Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Untitled (Raw and Unedited)

This emptiness is killing me
carving me out like
A pumpkin right before Halloween.
Scraping my insides out
and throwing them away
without any regard
to how they felt
to what they meant
to who I was because of them

It feels like a part of me
was taken away
and I wish I knew how
or what I could do to
get them back. To
make myself
whole again.

I try to gather my
thoughts and bundle them into
something
something more
something, palpable
yet I consistently come up short
Empty.

Something is missing
And I wish I knew what
Because that'd be easier, right?
The knowledge of why
is so much easier to fix
if you know what it is
that you're trying to replace.

But maybe I'm not missing anything
and it's all in my head
maybe, this is who I am
This is how I have to live
and this is what I will be
Forever.

Maybe emptiness is eternal.
But maybe it's not really that bad
Maybe it's bearable
Maybe
Maybe
Maybe

Maybe I'll survive
But God does it hurt
It hurts
It numbs
It's painful
It echoes
It feels like a pinball going off
hitting everything.
Hitting
Everything.

Sometime emptiness comes from the lack of feeling...
But the worst of emptiness comes from feeling too much.

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Untitled - Cody Roecker

The pressure inside of my head is building up like sedimentary rock getting stronger as it pushes itself into the layer before it. Like the rock, my head is filled with many facets of pain that aren’t all visible on the surface.
On the outside, you have my smiling face, my enamoring giggle, my sad eyes that illuminate and draw people in.
    On the inside you have the realities of the world. You have the beautiful nightmare, the corrupt swirls of something that looks beautiful, but has a hole in the center, a black hole, that sucks every last thing up into it.
    On the outside you have my fuzzy exterior, my chubby cheeks, my thick body, my larger-than-life personality.
    On the inside you would be able to see how I feel about all of that… That I hate it all. I love the comfort I provide others, but do I love myself?
    On the outside you have my facade, of a perfect, happy life.
    On the inside you have the effects of depression, presenting itself in the form of a tumor, growing ever so slightly, and every time we cut a little bit off, or we think it’s finally going away, it grows, stronger, bigger, more protruding into my everyday life. I cannot escape it, no matter how much I try.
    But anymore, I cannot tell what is on the inside and what is on the outside, the two parts of my existence have begun to bleed into one, and I am fearful of what it could mean. I am afraid of what could happen to me. I am frightened.