Figments in Ibiza

I’d like to say I’m back, but let’s be honest…

Figments in Ibiza
JCD Kerwin

I could have been
in laser lights, magnified
by my own
euphoria.

I could have
measured my worth
by punches,
not by sad songs
echoing late at night.

(And I bet
my PF Flyers would
have worn out long before
the brown
from my eyes.)

I could have been a hero;
Instead, I play pretend:
I make paper beds
and in my head,
these pencil sticks
are cigarettes,
and with these pens,
I slay regrets
like I’m a knight
in forever armor.

But I’m nothing but a dreamer,
and I feel a little weaker
while I keep reaching
in garbage cans
for stars.

I could have been
invincible
if I wanted:
just let go a roar and
watch my breath
move mountains.

I could have been…
but I ended up like this.

(September 2016)

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Untitled

It came to me in a rush.
It’s probably not even good.

[Untitled]
JCD Kerwin

I’ll stab this pen
a thousand times,
to make my stories
run red with blood.
My heart will look
like a tattered valentine,
but the moon will shine
through its holes
like a billion stars,
ready to dance,
in time,
with your heartbeats.

March, 2015

B-Side the Fire

Er, it was a dark day. O_O…

Also, ten billion points to whoever can guess where I got the title of the poem from! I’ll give you a hint, my favorite band is U2. :O

B-Side the Fire
J.C.D. Kerwin

I set the same song on reply.
I glue the button down
with blood and spit and tears
to make the track rerun because
right now (since how long, I can’t recall)
it’s been the only thing keeping me from
falling into vomit I am puking from my heart.
There are no words, just
the same acoustic refrain
as if it sends me far away
from whatever this
is supposed to be.
(“Reality,” they tell me.)

At least in my head,
I can’t get hurt and
I don’t wear a frown
quite as hard
as the PF Flyers
I’ve worn holes in.
I keep running but
I don’t know which way
to chase a daydream.
It’s like trying to catch the moon
at dawn.
I’m told we’re all
a little crazy,
a little sad,
a little weird and a little mad
sometimes.
But all I really am is desperate.
I just want to crack
these goddamn headphones in half
and climb inside the music notes
to find the Neverland I dream about
every time I close my eyes;
to see the faces that aren’t real
to everyone else but me.

I’d like to suck a couple drops
of caffeine nicotine and see
if an imaginary friend will come
skipping out to talk with me.
Perhaps he’ll reflect computer screens
and we’ll recite binary while
people think I’m drunk, but won’t
it be fun when I’m finally gone and free?
Oh how I wish this cord
led to a 4-D world instead of a little red
music box player that made me wonder
of perfectly imperfect impossibilities.

(January 2015)

Bayoneting Sustenance

This is non-fiction, fiction.
…Figure that one out.

Bayoneting Sustenance
JCD Kerwin

I stay up all night,
watching the History Channel tell me about
all the presidents and what made them
(or didn’t make them)
a great leader.
It’s a marathon,
a marathon of watching me
grow more apathetic with every
click of the goddmaned
ticking machine.

(I hate that clock…
I guess I don’t care—
enough to get rid of the clock,
I mean…)

I live off coffee and cigarettes
like some teenage model with
anorexia.
But I’m content,
to thin, and
sink farther into upholstery.
Maybe by the time I emerge
as a tattered little butterfly,
the world will be long-gone.

Maybe I’ll find an unused stick
of cancer
buried in these cushions.
Worth a shot.

Or two.

(Sept. 2014)

Shuffle and Replay

Broken headphones by nessieblack09 (deviantART)

Shuffle and Replay
JCD Kerwin

Sometimes (a lot of the time),
my favorite part
of each day
is when I’m ignoring the world
with tunes.

Because sometimes (a lot of the time),
it’s nice to pretend
I’m not me
and I’m not really sitting here
at all.

(Sept. 2014)