5am

By edenscancer

When did I become

a man?
It echoes like a wounded cry through my tired mind
as I shower at 5am.
I remember watching cartoons on my belly and wanting to be

a power ranger
did it change when my heart was torn apart

girl after girl?

I remember playing in the overgrown yard at my parents house.
did it change when I realized my father wasn't god?
Right now I'm naked, and writing in magic marker on the bathroom wall.
in my apartment shower stall.
wondering when it changed
I'm disgusted at the naked man.
his large hands and bulky muscles.
I feel sick and get light headed.

how pathetic.
I do this when I think of what I am.
when I shower at 5am

I smoke a pack a day and watch my relatives grow old and die.
I go to college and work and try my hardest to support the ones I love and fail over and over again
and I'm naked in the shower crying at 5am.
My lover and I fight like my parents did
and we're older now than when we were new
I watched my
grandmother
disentigrate
in front of me,
both of them.
Is that what waits?

And If I was to do something new It would feel like old while the shower is cold and I'm pathetic
at 5am

and the cold bulletin boards and chat are a cry for help and My music is a scream
like .... shut the fuck up...not you ...

... me

This is truth, and a rant and not poetry.
poetry is beautiful and this is ugly
but sometimes the words flow
and I don't know where to put them
they go where they go
and I write in rhymes like a death-rattle possessed
sometimes pretty
and sometimes old and distressed
and I'm just a sick sad old corpse of someones son sitting in a cold shower crying at 5am

If you knew me you would agree
but you read
and read
and call this pain poetry

and this in the end is all I am

I'm written on the wall while someone else writes me,
at 5am

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
© 2006 edenscancer
Published on Sunday, June 11, 2006.     Filed under: "Depressed" and "Poetry"
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Comments on "5am"

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  • boneplate On Wednesday, February 2, 2011, boneplate (56)By person wrote:

    This is truth...and beauty......reality, no sugar coating....in your face reality....great work...

  • Ladyhawke On Wednesday, September 22, 2010, Ladyhawke (392)By person wrote:

    I dont see how you think this is ugly. Its so freakin beautiful. Your works are so amazing, im speechless when i get done with any of them.

  • climaks On Sunday, August 16, 2009, climaks (7)By person wrote:

    Your diction is so amazing, it was like i was immersed in your shower and caught in the dispair of an eternal 5am.

  • technicolour-girl On Thursday, November 6, 2008, technicolour-girl (21)By person wrote:

    Im speechless.

  • Mari On Monday, August 18, 2008, Mari (419)By person wrote:

    ''sometimes the words flow and i don't know where to put them'', that was very realistic and easily relatable. i sensed the torment in this, and for a small moment, i kind of felt it. what you were portrsying here. write on. mari

  • verablue On Tuesday, November 14, 2006, verablue (106)By person wrote:

    "I'm written on the wall while someone else writes me, at 5am"...sometimes its the ugly writes that show the most honesty and talent. its harder to make words portray ugly. i loved this peice. especially the ending.

  • little butterfly On Tuesday, July 11, 2006, little butterfly (36)By person wrote:

    what ever this is it shows heart and concern for your self and a sense of really deep sadness

  • A former member wrote: Not a poem. Not a rant. Not words just thrown together. This is art. Thank you. `Div

  • BrokenButterflyWings On Wednesday, June 14, 2006, BrokenButterflyWings (33)By person wrote:

    I see things in this other people dont see... I saw truth before you wrote the word...

  • A former member wrote: Damn, i wish i could be something this powerful at 5am, but you are just amazing ~Tamara

  • A former member wrote: you are fucking amazing.

  • Dei On Sunday, June 11, 2006, Dei (663)By person wrote:

    -hugs Eden- wow. this was powerful. It had no specific style it came off as a rambling in a diary. questioning yourself and life and why we innocense.

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