A Mourning Poem | Poem

"Mornings, or Mournings...?" - Steven O. Lynn

Backstory To Be Told....

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This is a poem for the days I awake from my bed, mourning...it's morning and the snooze button has been played over my alarm's warning, because waking up today doesn't feel all that rewarding

This is a poem for when all the lights in my room are off, and the darkness reflects how I feel most often

I offer my apology in advance, for I don't like complaining to strangers and friends, I'd much rather just keep it all in

Not even the page or the Gmail drafts on my phone get to know the things that roam, I mean, prey on my brain

This is a poem for my depression, it's a prettier way foe me to say aggression, because I'm mad as hell, at myself, for waking this way again-

And again and again just go out into the world to pretend that nothing is wrong within

This is a poem for the hopelessness, that chokes the motivation I had from the night before like having faith in myself is a revolving door and making a difference in my life is something it never knew how to stand for

This is a poem for when I'm bored, bored everything, bored of me, bored of my job, bored of people, bored of writing, bored of YouTube, bored of excuses, bored of showers, bored of doing virtually anything, more to fact, boarding myself up in this room I'd much rather do

Letting the sun loom through the windows as I'm lost to the sounds of lo-fi to make these low vibes at least somewhat bearable, frankly speaking, I feel terrible

This is a poem for how suicidal ideation seems so right and feel so wrong

When I know that life goes on, when I know I can go on, and I don't want to do it anymore

Not saying I wanna die, I wanna live, but I'm asking, for today, can I give in

I want to stay in, to not have to pretend with a grin, forced to give away boundless Happyness, 'cause when I look at someone with the same sad features I can't help but console them

Let my words hold them, show them a brighter day is possible just for them because you are here today, and what a shame it would it be to not give yourself another chance, for your worth, far as I'm concerned is much more than a couple thousand bands

Like that, I've raised their bandwidth, and I see their eyes begin to light up

Their smiles turn genuine, their voices begin lifting, and I accept their hugs I'm given which I admit, feels brilliantly appreciated but soon after, I feel hollow again

This is a poem for the days I want to do better, but can't seem to make a decision on how to do it

Maybe I'm thinking too much, or too deeply, maybe a part of me enjoys seeking, or sinking, but I'm fully aware I don't like these feelings

Most times I don't know what to do with them, how to convert it into energy to do better, transfuse it into energy to feel better, GoD knows I wanna do better, I just wish he'd give me something to help me do better at being better, for most times I my esteem be equivalent of the lesser

I think deep down I don't believe in GoD, because if I did I'd probably fuck his ass up for letting me get this far in the dark...okay, maybe that was a little too dark, a smidge too sharp and stark, a bit rude and unfair to say, fore he's not all to blame for how things been going these days but I needed to get that shit off my chest today (is that okay?)

This is a poem for the days I feel this way, when I can't get out my own way, when I can't help but sit in one place, when I keep pulling myself up out of bed when again I'm late for myself, for work, for everyone...

I ask myself: Why do I even bother to rise up from this resting space? I guess I believe that there's reason, that even deeper than deep down I believe in the idealing, that it's never too late...and I think that that's something

'Cause like I said, I wanna live, to live in the way that I've always dreamed of living in my heart, where the thoughts as described before don't tear me a part, to not be confined to a perspective devoid of light and color, and yet, even in the shadows...pull beauty from it's art, forming from it a sense as to why this moment, is just a temporary arc

This is a poem for the risings where I don't know what to do, when I realize I don't know what I'm doing, and yet I'm trying, I'm writing, to release these feelings from me so they do not consume me

As the rainy, thundering day outside I have to face and race to that bus stop to a job I wanna cut off so damn badly, I admittedly still feel dim

And wet like these tears I finally let go, opening my mouth and say "I'm not fucking okay", being honest not to complain, that right now, I don't fully know what to do

That I'm feeling confused, how I wish that I felt as strong as my loved ones tell me I am

Because I know their telling the truth, despite being comfortable with living lies for a life that has become more true all because I first assumed that those realities were true; What is the truth? I am greater than what I've been through, and this too shall pass

This is a poem for me, for giving myself another chance, a sonnet reminder to me...to try again, to accept everyday is not going to be sunny skies nor rarely will I always see a rainbow, so I have to hold tight to my own light, and do the job of fixing my own halo

This is a poem for everyday I've felt so distant, when misery is my own and only company, my favorite cuddle buddy, and the ideas that keep an identity of insecurity in tact, because that's all I knew

This is a poem made for us, who feel like making this day our last dance, but are still willing to give ourselves another chance, a chance to just be, as we take this moment to grieve, create a new moment to breathe, and maybe with time, allow for another chance for the life we hope to achieve while we shape our minds to have a stronger means of leaning in to possibilities...

Of being more than these snippets of my life I chose to outline in this poem

A poem, for the mourning

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A Mourning Poem by SoL

Performance was STAYonLIT

Lyrics were Composed in SoL

Published via Embold with SoL

Written on Thursday, February 16, 2023 @ 10:13 AM | Untitled Morning Poem

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MESSAGE FROM THE ARTIST:

This Artistic Piece of Literature is the Sole

Intellectual Property of The Original Author &

Copyright Owner by name of Steven O. Lynn

bka SoL aka Mista STAYonLIT; All Rights Reserved.