I was told (once) that if I could only make up a perfect story, that, that woman, who stole almost everything from men, would fall for me; would, maybe destroy me and leave me for dead. Would, maybe, ship me off without my pen and belt, and force me to paint her with no training. She’d want something that resembles something by Claude Monet; Do you know how difficult that is? That’s the fun though; she’d cut me off so many times; she’d remind me how many others could paint better; she’d explain, in beautiful detail, just how useless my hands were. Well, I hope she’s satisfied with my work; I’m sorry I finished early; I’m really no man; Goodnight, goodnight, I hope you’re sleeping; so I can finally leave.

who am i?
what am i?
Do I really exist?
What form of life Do I have here?
Is my identity really determined by my actions?
If so, that makes me someone who'd rather write than live.
But is that all i am?

I am creative and self-destructive
naturally skilled and unproductive.
I am fragile yet tough as a man,
struggle thru life with no real plan.

As each day passes I can feel it,
I'm slowly losing a part of my identity.

My friends are all screaming;
"who are you!?!"
"is your mask anything like you!?!"

My head is hurting,
I don’t know how it’s still on.
I'm still aching,
After all the breaking that has been done.



© Copyright Tyler Atherton

i have let those i loved
convince me i am nothing.
instead of giving up love
i continue to do so wholeheartedly,
as long as i never forget
to love myself

She came to me broken,
shattered like a priceless vase,
she was whitering away right before my eyes,
like a long lost puppy without a home,
she said she fell in love,
we found each other in darkness,
with our hands held out we found our way,
but little did I know that her love was rotting day after day,
even though when I found her I was also half dead,
I ripped myself apart to make her whole again,
I loved her more than love thought possible,
but it was never enough,
she threw me away,
cast aside where I belong,
a worthless love,
now I lay broken,
now I lay dead

Then with all her strength
And all her might
She attempted again
To take her life

But to no avail
Again she failed