I Am

Apparently I haven’t posted this one.  I wrote this back in Grade 10 for one of my classes.  It was based on a template that everyone in the class got and we all basically had to fill in the blanks.  I’m assuming the teacher read it but she didn’t do or say anything to me after.  I probably would have.

I Am

I am depressed, alone.
I wonder what it’s like to be normal
I hear words of hate dripping off peoples’ mouths.
I see his face
I want him to notice me.
I am depressed alone.

I pretend it’s when I’ve gone to hell and back.
I feel afraid of getting too close.
I touch the soft mist of his aura.
I worry about myself.
I cry from rejection.
I am depressed, alone.

I understand true understanding.
I say life is without meaning.
I dream of even the shortest exchange between him.
I try to be myself.
I hope to make it.
I am depressed, alone.

Patterns/Untitled

Long, long ago, in a basement in East Van, my friend Bekki and I were fidding around with my keyboard while her seemingly schizophrenic cat would jump on our backs, embedding her claws into our skin.  I had suggested previous times for Bekki to write a song, since she was a singer and a pianist like me, but she never seemed driven to do so (also she claimed she wasn’t a songwriter even though she had never actually attempted to write a song).  But this time, for whatever inspired reason, Bekki took out her notebook or random writings over the last many years and we began to deconstruct some interesting lines of her poetry to construct the lyrics of a song.

While I worked on the music, she continued working on the last bits of lyrics, and eventually, this untitled song was born.  Unfortunately, we both thought it was terrible (especially the ending) and it was never performed in public.  That being said, I still remember how the song goes, even after these years…

Bekki had tentatively named it “Patterns” but I don’t quite agree with that title, so it’s still just “Untitled” to me.  Behold my first collaborative effort!

Patterns/Untitled

So it begins anew,
I start high but fall in rank.
So far behind, yet I run when called.
Detach me from reality.

You are simple but confusing:
A blank voice pulled aside from memories.
Stab my heart, but it’s too late,
Or maybe I’m just weak…

CHORUS
This bitterness, my only bliss,
this unrequited love.
The filtered sounds give names for tears,
City lights bind all my fears.

Never meant to drown the stars.
Come with me, rewrite these scars.
‘Cause time just seems to slip away,
I lose myself when you’re not here.

So it begins anew.
I started high but fell….

Where the Sidewalk Ends

It’s also where the streets have no name (okay, that seemed more witty in my mind).  This was one of the earlier songs I wrote back in the day, and it is based on a Shel Silverstein collection of poems of the same name.  I’m not sure how it somehow popped into my head but I do remember really enjoying his work in the 2nd grade.  I’ve pretty much forgotten about this song since I used the bridge of this song in “Let Go”, which I think is a much better song, both lyrically as well as musically. That being said, I still remember how to play it and how the melody goes so maybe it’s not such a bad song after all.

Where the Sidewalk Ends

Where the sidewalk ends,
that’s where I’ll see you again.
Jumping from crack to crack,
always wishing to want you back.

When the rains begin,
I’ll hold a candle and some things.
As the colored skyline fades,
I rush back to my mental cage.

CHORUS:
And I run down the street
All these thoughts and memories gently spilling out.
Leave me here to mend.
And I”ll meet you where the sidewalk ends.

Where the past will start
is when my heart departs.
Chasing fantastic dreams
and anything else in between.

How fortunes finish,
a mystery diminished.
Mixtures of low tides,
bottle up numbling then divide.

CHORUS

Fly away, I’ll fly away
Fly away.
These mistakes, oh, these mistakes,
Will I finally die today?

CHORUS

Where the sidewalk ends,
that’s where we’ll meet again.

Truth

Written sometime between September 26th and 27th, 2005

Truth

Is this what life is?
Cuz I’m disappointed in it
The truth seems so unreal,
but that is the shock of reality.

Will people learn the truth?
One cannot enforce it
One cannot handle it
The truth on Atlas

I am the wise man,
free from the world
And not contained by no one’s grip
Wow.  This is quite bad. [I actually wrote this.  At least I realize it]

When you learn to lose,
you learn the truth
After many hurts,
Truth will guide your way.

Only then will you learn
Truth.

Corner

The last poem written in the last class I ever took (which I almost failed… meh).

Corner

There is only room
in the corner for one;
Of course it just
had to
be
me.

Vine

Hooray for terrible teenage poetry.

Vine

Green tentacles of
the monster wrap
about the garden. Its
life is drained.

Picture

From the sheet of emo poems written in Math 11 class.

Picture

Who are all these people?
We are not like who everyone pictures
us to be someone else.

Final Closure

More emo poetry from this whole page of poems I wrote during Math 11 class. Here’s a picture!

Final Closure

My mind flows
consistently, never faltering
unless the pain arrives, brought
on by the sight of the
person who has hurt me
all these years, and
yet brought me more than I ever wanted, which
is why I must block you out.

Whole bunch of crappy poems

10 Defining Moments of My Life (so far) — #5: Being emo

5.  Feeling completely alone, ignored by my parents and ready to give up on life, I locked myself in my room, listening to a goodbye song from S Club on repeat while going through my big yellow scrapbook compiled in the second grade and crying.  When I got to spelling test with “not good enough” written on the top, I just bawled for a few minutes.

The Tower Card

Something old and emo.

The Tower Card

A cloud of uncertainty hangs above my head
I’ve been wondering for so long,
yet have never attempted it
but I guess it’s time now
For too long, there has been war
of all sorts
all around me
Suffocating the life from me
And when life promises to be kind,
it turns on its word
stabs me with a dagger of wickedness
until I can no longer sustain the injuries
So I may as well finish the job
I pick up the silver medicine
gleaming at me
taunting me to take it
to free myself from this everlasting pain
I take it gently and carefully to my hand
As the clock strikes twelve,
I am eternally asleep on the ground
With a devilish grin on my wrists
its mouth open
and blush words continually spilling out
“You can’t turn back time now”