All That You Ignore
By Jason Wallace Poetry
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Published by:
All That You Ignore
Copyright © 2016 by Jason Wallace Poetry
You’ve left nothing here
But this souvenir,
This scar
That hardens my heart,
Tearing down into my soul,
So far,
I’ve been hidden behind the shadow
That rests near that heart.
I’ve been washed away,
Worried that I don’t
Matter so much to say
That I could be anything
Like you used to think I was.
I haven’t found the way to
Be half of half enough.
You’re blistered.
You’re bliss at times that I
Can no longer have for mine.
I only wish you’d
Be with me, at least, half this day
Just so I could finally get you
From all of this decay
And maybe work out my own way
To be better than you seem to think of me.
I wither. I slither
Through this life that looks so much like Hell.
I intended so much more than this,
So much that I could no longer tell
Where the fantasies ended and this life wasn’t blended
With all of that and was some reality, in fact.
I meant so very well,
But you’ve given me nothing but a sore spot that
Reminds me of how I failed.
If you could, just find some time to finally set me free.
This isn’t like anything before.
I’m alive and not so well
And have so little for me in store.
I used to have some happiness, somewhere in myself.
I used to not feel so empty and not compare me
To absolutely everyone and everything else.
I’ve already forgotten what it’s like to ever
Have something more than just this pain.
I’m ready to be forgotten
And to know that I don’t have to remain
In this, all of this, all of it, all that I can
No longer know how to endure.
I don’t grow stronger. I just look in me for a cure
To this sickness, this sentence, this emblem
Of everything so impure.
I’m everything impure, and I’m all that you ignore.
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If I’m to Blame
If I’m to blame,
Do I take that fall?
If crying is the crime,
What do you have to say?
Do you now
Have it all?
Time and time again,
I’ve had to be the one
That’s had to walk away.
But no hurt in a while
Has made me break back down.
I’m used to it and can even smile
When you only wanna drag me into your Hell.
If I’m to blame,
What do I say?
Where do I stay to
Stay away?
If I felt a bit of what you admit
You want me to feel,
I could not be
Who I am, who you’ve made me,
And I would rather die inside all over again.
I will not submit, but I will not quit.
This one last appeal is to calm your heart,
Your bitterness a bit and still
Have some shot at all the naught
That this is coming to, that you’ve unglued, to finally end.
Where is it that you’ve
Taken yourself away to like so often before
When I could only hold my head in my hands
And breathe heavily to not ignore but simply implore
Some better judgment of myself, to not break out,
To do my best to deny the rest of all of this emptiness
And maybe, just maybe, understand.
If I’m to blame,
I take the shame.
I take the cold, staring circumstance.
I don’t know who you are
Or what you want or when I wasn’t some
Wasted days, some yesterdays that
Should’ve been but have gone and come and gone again.
Are you at all like me,
Sitting in a car, in make believe,
Wondering why the worst of it never leaves
And why it is that you can’t find relief
From a life you never intended to pretend to need?
When it was all hanging on a rope,
I found a part of you and found some hope,
But I hoped too hard, and it came apart,
And I never left, but I could never be
The mat you asked to lay on the ground to wipe your feet.
I might have a persevering heart, but it’s still a heart that bleeds.
I’m in agony. I’ve been deceived, but
If I’m to blame,
I take it all for no less but maybe more.
I take it all the same,
If I’m to blame.
Though I was right, and you were wrong,
I… waved goodbye because I…
Walked in on
A time when you were
Already gone, giving up, and
No longer strong,
Taking back all
That tore you up and
Tearing up all the
Paper strings of a
Not enough kind of
Do it rough sort of
Life you
Could not love,
So we never were and
Never truly could be
What you want, so you
Put me down
Because you
Put me up
Too high in the sky on a
Pedestal that no one could
Stand on in the rain that you
Poured out of your
Bitter cup.
I’m bruised enough to
Be no more used too much,
And… if I’m to blame,
Do you remember who I am?
Do you remember my name?
I guess I’m to blame.
If I am, If I’m to blame,
I’ll push it away again and
Into the holes in my veins
Where my blood has spilled to nearly kill me
Once and for all, for all of the same,
Because I’m the one to blame, I guess
I’m the one to blame, so,
If I’m to blame,
So be it as it may, because
If I’m to blame,
It no longer matters what I say.