Inevitable

I think we're terrified of being forgotten. I think that as soon as an ounce of intelligence entered our being, our first instinct was to scratch walls and make art out of sharp sticks and stones; We wanted it to be known that we were here.

Perhaps when Adam ate the Apple he was more relieved at being able to die than he was afraid of God's anger, perhaps even the Gods hate all this immortality business.

We are here to die. And perhaps the only reason we aren't relieved at that is because we might just forget to do anything but continue dying, we might just forget to live.

So here we are: scratching walls or ourselves, trying to make it become something other than our own coffins at the end of this journey.

Wars end when wars do

Wars end when death settles

The graveyard was ready to receive me

I had so much to do still

I do not think I want to be here anymore

Here, I have found

Here is relative

Here in this life I feel small

To not want to be here is to acknowledge

There are things holding you back

There are things you do not want knowing your name

The battle cry was futile

No one wants to wait 

To experience the glory of all that bloodied violence

I am here

Living past things I was sure would kill me

Here

I am here.

I have so much life left to live still

- A.G.

(you can also read the poem from bottom to the top)

When I was little, I used to stay away from matches because I was sure I would set myself on fire. What I didn't realise was that I've been burning for a long time. You know how they say you're a sum of everyone you've met; everyone you've come across? I think I'm other people, more than I am myself. I still remember the phone number of my friend from the third grade. What do I do with the memory of that? That's the problem. I remember too much. I can never forget: numbers and people. I am a walking ache, I am a fresh scar; I am open wounds: always aching. I am hurt. My happiness is pretense and my sadness is a default. I have been hurt too many times and I can never forget it. I never remember my happiness. I remember too much of what went wrong and too much of all that hurt me; that's the problem. What do I do with all this hurt? I carry a lifetime of hurt. I think I will age backwards; I already hurt so much at so little, I am sure there can be no way this gets worse so I have to hope this will get better. As the years grow, I will grow. I will be taller when others are starting to hunch. How could I not? Where do you go from this ache? I am the ache I feel and I am the thing that hurts my heart. My happiness is always a pretense. I am always sad during the happiest moments of my life. Someone called me arrogant and I laughed at their face. I think some people are always sad. I am always other people and I have never been myself and I do not know what to do with that. I am a stranger in my head and my face is always a foreign image that surprises me. I remember too much. I don't know how to not. How do you forget? I don't hate myself, I just don't know what to do with her sometimes. She is a child and she is so grown up and strong and she is always grieving the loss of some part of herself.

Images taken via Pinterest

Love Birds (but like the Love is real and pure)

God declared guilt the day his image

Ran away from Him-

Grew red with fury,

Grew up, up, up, up;

Until he covered the sky.

Eve was not the one who brought damnation or sin, no,

God named sin the day

Someone disobeyed him;

Who is god if not a living thing?

Eve came in a storm shock,

Came a reminder for God

That one day

Thou shan't be

The Judge,

The Jury and

The Executioner;

Thou shan't be the harbinger

Of all this fury.

A woman carved herself a piece of sin

The day she walked out of obedience,

Walked out of being a mere accomplice to a man.

In an act of trust, Eve reclaimed herself;

Don't you get it?

Lilith ran away from the disgrace of submission

And God named her fallen,

Named her a demon,

Named her evil;

Wiped out the first injustice

From memory.

What is so bad about morality?

To know the good and evil;

The first humans bit into the apple

And the apple grew them a conscience-

Grew the thought that there was a body.

Grew the feeling of all of this being,

Being here,

Grew the thought that they were here.

The Garden shut its gates

And the humans wandered off;

The first act of foolishness will perhaps always be trust.

Eve trusted the serpent,

Adam trusted Eve

And God trusted something human.

A.G.

Maybe we will not be anything that aches when it is gone.

-A.G.

And how do we forget all this glory around us?

Playing God

The Gods, they envy us. 

We get to live and be done with it:

We get to die and leave.

There is no eternity hanging over our heads,

No forevers to roll the dice over.

We will not become Fallen Angels

Even if we forget our own morality.

We get to leave into the nothingness,

Become one with the Earth,

Get trodden in the very soil 

We claimed as Ours once before and then

Turned to dust in.

We become the dust;

The dust that is to us

The same as we are to the cosmos;

We are the nothing.

Galaxies erupt and entire worlds are created,

Stars explode and black holes collide,

So why does it matter that I fell from the stairs today;

Why does it matter that I stuttered in a conversation 

Or that I yelled out the wrong answer in class?

The cosmos are to us

As the Earth is to the dust specs on it;

We will be blown away and it will all still be here:

The Galaxies; the Earth within one such,

Packed with an entire Solar System,

Turning around one Sun,

They will still continue being//

In one form or another.

So why does it matter

That I will not be here

When all has been said and done,

I’d still have existed.