Horror Author
self-esteem
is what i need
i can’t get it now
screaming please
on my knees
really, really loud
can’t you see
to be free
i must feel proud
with no pride
i can’t deny
i sink to the ground
i hear lies
in my mind
i am breaking down
as i cry
i wonder why
no one cares now
with this dream
i must bring
myself to the clouds
only then
can i mend
my heart inside out
without a doubt
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
I put myself
Through Hell
Working so long
At a nightclub
I felt I
Paid for
Past sins
I committed
I broke up fights
Protected others
Put my body
Through brutal punishment
I had crimes
Weighing on my soul
Serving my community
I would be absolved
What crime
Would require
Such a debt –
I was 14
I indirectly
Helped my father
Beat my mother –
I felt nothing
No sorrow
No joy
No ambivalence
No emotions
I was a
Cold, dead
Robot
Beep –
It took years
Before I realized
Exactly what
I had done
And I accepted
My punishment –
I think I’m still
Paying for it
I learned a lesson
I don’t watch people
Get hurt anymore
I try to stop it –
From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.
I stand upon the stage
Protecting anyone who may enter
I don’t want them to fall
To be hurt walking off the stage
Literally – walking off the stage –
I am one – a solitary light
With no companion except
A darkened theater
Though some believe
Ghosts roam the seats
And the catwalks
I’ve never seen them –
A lonely task but
I execute my mission
Every night without
Breaking my resolve
Because it’s temporary –
During performances
Or rehearsals
I sit in a corner
And allow
My tired wires to rest –
And every night
My light shines bright
Watching over my stage
And theater –
There is no business
Like mine
From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.
James Pack 