Arid Waters

Arid Waters

Drink of the water of the sleepless.
The water which within itself tastes dry.

A thirst that cannot be quenched
but by the bourbon of another’s thoughts;
by the whiskey of another’s dreams

Getting drunk on thoughts and dreams
does naught but catch the mind
in nets like spiders webs.
Made of the lines
that once formed letters,
that once formed words,
that once formed thoughts.

Twisted, tangled, messy and chaotic;
the web of strings of letters and words
touches me like one would touch a lover.

A soft caress – a gentle kiss.

And the senselessness of twisted words
becomes clear within the passionate embrace.

In chaos there is order;
In madness there is sanity.
And drinking of another’s thoughts –
tasting of another’s dreams –

Is getting drunk from an arid well.

©2015 Alex Hicks

We Fight and We Will Win

I push and I push and I push
You push everyone away.
I push away the people I love.
But not her.
I’m afraid
you’re so afraid
That she’ll leave me.
Just like the rest did.
Yet, she promises she won’t.
So why do you keep pushing?
 
She hates seeing me like this.
You hate yourself like this.
She tells me that she loves me
But you don’t love yourself.
She says she wants to be with me
But you don’t want to be with yourself.
And more than anything I want to be with her.
Then you know what you must do.
 
I can’t fight it alone anymore.
You never really had to.
Anxiety has taken so much from me
Then don’t let it take any more.
I’m going to make one final stand
You won’t be standing alone.
I won’t let this win.
WE won’t let this win.
 
This battle may be done
You’ve lost a lot of ground.
But the war is far from over
We’ll stand behind you always.
I fight so I can be with her
We fight so you can be with you.
I fight so I can be with me.
We fight to keep your sanity.
 
She’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me
you really love her don’t you?
Yes, she is my everything.
Then we fight so you will not lose her.
We fight so I will not lose her.
We fight and we will win.
We will win.
 
©2014 Alexander J Hicks

Betrayer

Betrayers of the heart, contempt
Each a monster in their own respect
To twist and turn the bloody knife
Ready to plunge it in your back
After you help them reach their goals
You get stepped on so they can climb
Earning the name of the traitor
Regret will be their downfall

©2014 Alex Hicks

A Window to My Conscience – Entry I

I’m going to do a series of posts that won’t be poems. A sort of writing project. A series of thoughts. And I’m inviting all of you to take a look in my brain and take from it what you will. I don’t know how many parts this will be, but this is the first one.


Two weeks ago…my girlfriend ex-girlfriend broke up with me. Initially, I said we broke up, that it was a mutual decision. I’ve read articles on how to get through a breakup, and now I realize that it wasn’t mutual. She broke up with me, and the sooner I accept that, the sooner I can change myself and move on.

Moving on…

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Some of my friends suggested trying to get her back…to chase after her. I won’t do that though.

Why?

Because. Because, I want to move on more than I want her back. These past two weeks I’ve felt my heart pulling me to chase her, and my mind knocking me on my ass. One pulls one way, the other pulls another. Tearing me apart. Clean in two.

And it hurt.

It hurt like hell.

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But I want to move on.

Work has been a nice break…a break from the emotions, from the pain of the loss, from my heart and brain splitting me down the middle…a nice break…a clean break.

But it made me think. We are all so busy in our lives, jobs and paychecks and money, that we forget what we really need to be happy…we forget about love and about friendship and self worth.
busy living life

I have to look back. Before I was old enough to be interested in girls. Back when girls were “gross”. I didn’t hate myself then, not like I do now. I was confident, and full of myself. Foolish, and filled with pride. Then I grew up, and the world changed.

School said they could teach it, Parents said they had lived it, but I knew kids that had more happen in their lives than my parents ever did in theirs. So had they really lived real life? The answer is no. No one has lived my life, and no one but me ever will.

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Love is one of those things that no one can live without. Everyone has to have it in some way or another. Whether it is from themselves or if it is from someone else, everyone needs love.

In one way or another…

And 2 weeks ago when She broke up with me, I felt like that was gone. People keep asking me if I’m okay and I say I’m fine. I’m better than before but I’m not okay; not yet anyway.

“I can handle this” means “please help me” and no one seems to notice. So I drown myself in my work. The only thing that keeps me sane, keeps me safe from the call of the void.

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Oh trust me, if I could save myself from drowning, I would; but right now I can’t. right now I’m drowning in this ocean of emotions and I can’t even see the water. I’m too caught up in staring at the darkness in my own heart…the darkness that’s taking the place where love had once filled. The hole that people look through and see their own monsters.

Ambitions drowned by fears, love replaced by darkness, happiness and its twisted smile. Its treacherous grin.

I know that right now, I’m not okay. Right now the dark surrounds me. But it won’t be there forever…it can’t be there forever. Until the day when the light returns to where love once sat in my heart, the place where darkness right now sits, I’ll keep running.

Running from the emotions, running from the monsters, running from the darkness, running from the pain and running from myself.

Running from myself.

empty bed

But I know I will be okay. Some days are harder than others, and some days I’m filled with energy and life. Someday, I’ll escape the feeling of emptiness and truly move on with my life, and when that day comes, I’ll be ready for a relationship.

A Promise

Poetry to me
Is the words without the sentence
The way each one flows from your mouth
With all the grace and serenity of a dove
But still holds all the weight of a thousand lifetimes

The way it somehow touches your emotions
Without directly touching you
Like a phantom of the feeling used to write it
A ghost of unexpressed love
Or a spirit of forgotten fears

To some people it’s just words
But to me it is emotions
In the physical form of words
A feeling in my heart
Making a promise with the universe.

©2013 Alex Hicks

I Need a Superhero

Break in case of emergency
 
I need a superhero
To beat away the dark
To show me what the truth is
And tell me where to start
 
I need a superhero
To guide my falling star
To help me realize that this evil
Isn’t all we are.
 
I need a superhero
To pull me from my past
To ease the torments of my mind
And let me sleep at last.
 
©2013 Alex Hicks

My Hate

It wasn’t such a long time ago
That I was deep in my own version of hell
I pushed everyone away
I wore armor made of jokes and sarcasm
I pretended to be having fun
When i was secretly fostering hate
for everyone and everything around me
And openly fostering hate for myself.

It’s not a pleseant feeling,
Feeling that there’s something there
Or rather that there is nothing there
Where there should be something.

Something to fill the hole in ones heart
where love had once stood
But had been ripped out of you
Over the span of five years
Ripped out of you
By someone who you wanted to care about
Who wanted you to care

And at the end of it all
When I ended it
I felt nothing
You had made me numb
Dulled the senses
Numbed the pain
Removed the part of me that could love.

But over time I got it back
I built up walls to keep people away
So I could heal
So my heart could heal

And it did.

Sure I still foster that hate sometimes
It’s a remnant of my past
A remnant of those memories

And sure, when that feeling arises
I worry that I’ll loose control
That my mind will go where that place in my heart went
And then?
She speaks…
She comforts me…
She speaks softly to me…
And everything is okay.

The hate in my mind stops hating and just listens
It laughs with me when she tells a joke
And it stares with me when I stare

The voice that calms the savage beast.

So sure, I worry about that hate
But never while I’m with her.

©2013 Alex Hicks

Part VIII: Echoes

Part I: Voice of an Angel
Part II: Dreamers Vice
Part III: Return to the Dream
Part IV: Illusions of the Moon
Part V: Beneath the Cherry Tree
Part VI: Face of an Angel
Part VII: The End of a Dream
Part VIII: Echoes

I wrote these two poems a while ago, and I completely forgot to post them. They’re a continuation of the series of poems I was writing at the beginning of this year.
 
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I realize now the hidden truth
The facts about my life
Life
Life
 
The closing doors the final scores
That cut me like a knife
Knife
Knife
 
The dreams I had where she would speak
The ones where I would cry, so weak
Weak
Weak
 
And the times she lightly touched my face
Then disappeared without a trace
Trace
Trace
 
I decided to leave the real world behind
Not because of the people but because that I find
Find
Find
 
It is the only place that we can be one
To prevent my life from coming undone.
Undone
Undone
 
My dreams is the only place for this love of mine
That the only place that she exists and now
 
So do I.
I
I
 
©2013 Alex Hicks

What Makes a Poet

What Makes a Poet
Writing a few lines of verse
Doesn’t make you a songwriter
Just as a few letters on a page
Doesn’t make you a book writer

Rhyming words strung together
Does not a poet make
Nor are you a singer
With a few notes on the page.

But every poem must start
By a single written line
And expanded with experience
And tempered over time

The ability to write
does not make a poet
You can know what a pen is
But not know how to use it

See, what makes a poet
Is not the ability to write
It’s the emotions of the artist
It’s the driving will to fight

It’s the experiences had
That really make them think
Emotions boiled over
In some simple drops of ink

©2013 Alex Hicks

Promise


 
I’m the kind of person who is happiest
When making other people happy.
 
If I make one person laugh every day
Then it will have been a good day for me.
 
This poses a small problem for me
 
When someone tells me
That they’ve had a hard life
I don’t know what to say because
Nothing I could say would make their situation
Any better.
 
So I just sit there in silence
Watching
Waiting
 
I don’t know what I’m waiting for.
Maybe I’m waiting for them to get mad at me
for not saying anything
Maybe I’m waiting for the tears they’ll inevitably cry
Or maybe I’m waiting for the moment to insert a joke
Or anything that I think will make them smile
 
But that moment rarely comes
 
There’s a time and place for everything
But there rarely seems to be a time and place for me
 
In the moment,
I’ll sit in silence watching your face
For signs of what you’ll do next.
 
Whether it be tears of sadness or rage
Or a scream
 
But I don’t speak
Because you’ve heard the lies before
“Everything will be fine”
“It will all work out in the end”
“I’ll always be here for you”
 
I won’t speak those lies
Because everything won’t be fine
It may not work out in the end
I may not always be here for you
 
But I’m here now.
That’s a promise I can keep.
 
I’ll be the ears to hear that scream
The shoulder to cry on
The foundation to hold you up
 
But I can’t promise to always be there for you
Because I don’t know if I can keep that promise.
 
©2013 Alex Hicks