Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow
You don’t know what it took for me,
to not be the man you don’t see
then to be the man that u see
you don’t know what I had to go thru,
to not be the man that I was
tho it wasn’t me
you don’t know how hard it is to sleep at night,
to dream the dreams that I dream
even tho they ain’t dreams
you don’t know how hard it is to look at you
and wonder what do you see
and if it’s really me?
Vanity stripped
my depth finally revealed
and all I’ve become
is my skeletons…
but
no more hiding
no more closets
no more caves
no more cases
no more cages
no more spying
no more eyeing
no more eyes
no more crying
no more nostrils
can’t be nosy
no more lying
no more ears
no more noises
no more mouth
no more voices
no more mind
no one minds
no more choices
paranoia comes and goes
but that’s just ghosts
you have no choice
we all have woes
just skeletons wearing clothes
How can you give me advice
but don’t know how I feel
you don’t know how I feel
you don’t know how it feels!
I’m edgy…
my toes are a weapon
I’m standing on ledges
tried understanding the death of a legend
just give me a second…
…
banging my head
while I swallow Excedrin
stalking an exit
talking is dreaded
I fear that the people who know me will know where I’m headed
they’ll know where my head is
depressed and suppressing my stress
that may manifest
more than distress
maybe by morning they all ‘ll’be mourning my sketch
don’t volunteer me a medic
whose less sympathetic
numb because to all of the people they see that regretted
just seeking attention
blood seeped from their wrist from the pain they inflicted
or pumping their stomach too full with prescription
you tell me the difference!
of making decisions
for when you’re done living
versus tragedies that take you out in an instance
fallen heroes…
they make do when they have a chance
they make you believe you have a chance
and that you can do anything with that chance
now all I ever wanted was just a chance
but imagine my circumstance
when my hero… was martyred by chance
what is the point of a plan
if your destiny’s stripped from your hands
losing control of the moments
that you’ve always honed in advance
I guess we only own the moment
because nothing is known in advance
likening death to a date,
hoping that when we go out-
we’ll have love holding our hand
You look at me now
think its easy huh?
I hurt all the time
you wouldn’t believe it
couldn’t give you truth in person
so I wrote it down
those things too hard to swallow
you feel going down
I struggle with some battles
could I ever tell you?
I can’t say the next line
I’m still wondering if I will ever tell you
Life is a box
everybody tries to fit in
but if you stand out
you can see that they’re all squares,
time doesn’t stop
no point in trying to blend in
so if you stand out
you can see that they’re all scared
remember looking at the sky
when I was like, what’s the point?
now I’m reaching for the sky,
like I’m held up at gunpoint
you gotta have faith
to manifest your fate
you gotta be brave
there’s some fears u gotta face
no one can make your dreams for you
but if u let them…
they can all take your dreams from you
“I write…”
I write
because I questioned what is wrong wit me
these worldly things controlling me
relations take a toll on me
pain don’t show diplomacy
cried an ocean openly
emotions put a hole in me
emoting from the soul in me
singing like its jodeci
I guess they call it poetry
but I ain’t know its poetry
poignantly…
just speaking from the po’ in me
the Edgar Allen Poe-in-me
I speak about it openly
pain enhances potency
I hope you feel it potently
just sip the potion knowingly
tho it opens you, it slows the bleed..ing
pain has a way of driving you-
turn the wheel
words can hurt and heal
best to embrace the worst
tasting all the pain dispersed
the only way to chase a cure,
is face the mirror…
you ain’t gotta name a demon
to know its a demon
you ain’t gotta know the reason
to know there’s a meaning
and having all the answers
don’t make u a genius
if you only do what you can-
its just convenience
it isn’t reaching
it isn’t dreaming
it ain’t believing
thoughts,
can be misleading
feelings,
can be misleading
words,
can be misleading
actions,
can be misleading
visions…
well, you get the picture
life can be a prison
instincts feel like redemption
gut, relieves the tension
don’t worry bout your feelings
just worry if you feel it
don’t worry bout the judgement
guilt is always building
shame built up to a building
fear is the pavilion
that shades us from the sun of dealing
so the dark is always so appealing
he looked beyond the Sun,
then said, I love you God
He looked down at the Sun,
then said, I love you Son
He looked down at the earth,
and said, I love you daughter
the world can build up dirt,
that’s why I gave you water
he looked beyond the Sun,
then said, I love you God
He looked down at the Sun,
then said, I love you Son
He looked down at the earth,
and said, I love you daughter
the world can build up dirt,
that’s why I gave you water
to wash away your hurt,
that’s why I gave you water
to wash away your pain,
that’s why I gave you water
to wash away your fears,
that’s why I gave you water
to wash away your tears,
that’s why I gave you water
now you can clean your hurt away
and you can clean your fears away
then you can rinse those tears away
now you ready for those rainy days
I write
because I questioned what is wrong wit me
these worldly things controlling me
relations take a toll on me
pain don’t show diplomacy
cried an ocean openly
emotions put a hole in me
emoting from the soul in me
I guess they call it poetry
but I ain’t know it’s poetry
poignantly…
just speaking from the po’ in me
the Edgar Allen Poe-in-me
I speak about it openly
pain enhances potency
I hope you feel it potently
just sip the potion knowingly
tho it opens you, it slows the bleed..ing