Category: poetry

An Original Poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell

“Welcome Home”

I am a fan of the melancholy,
the morbid,
and the macabre.

A glutton for the gore and the grotesque.
A shameless slut for a slasher or two..
I’m hoping this is also you.

See I find it easier to write about
what I know and I like.
If I hit a bump or two and I cannot seem to write a thing, I like.
I just look into the dark for a spark.

If you make friends when the sunshine dies where the sidewalk ends…
Where creepers find a home to crawl,
You are in for a treat.
Take your seat.

This is my homage to the strange,
the odd one out,
the girl who forgot her shout, and
the boy who had her back but never his own.
You are no longer under attack. 

Welcome home my sweet outcasts. 

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An original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell

“Still I Forget”

I feel insane. It has been four years. 
But still, I forget that you 
are no longer here. 

Unable to pick up the phone,
Can’t plan a weekend trip,
Can’t meet up to do shit.
Got a cool story to tell, 
but you’ll never be able to fucking 
hear even a part of it .

Everyone around me talks 
about their mothers, what 
they are up to, where they 
have been, what they do for fun,
their jobs and, what 
their moms do at them. 

I get to sit in silence once it’s my 
turn cuz’ my mom is 
fucking Dead and, no one 
wants to hear about it. 

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“MeaNmEAn”

An original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell

Some days I think I wish 
to share a brain with my lover, 
a super close friend, even a family member I still speak to.

To be able to share with them the pretty 
little thoughts you have 
about them at random,
in writing, and visits to your 
dreams. 

To share a funny 
 maybe…
Not appropriate, impulsive 
response before you swear to only you 
you’ll remember to mention it.
And forget within a minute. 

Yet the days do come were
your thoughts aren’t so fun.
You begin to think things that 
are on the bad side of mean,
out of 

Ch

    Ar

        Ac

            Te

                R,

and even 
obscene. 

You are glad the privacy 
your brain provides exists. 
You cannot control the 
thoughts that come and go 
Even doing so as they please.
You do not wish to put 
the ones without meaning 
out for show. 

Those will be the ones remembered. 
The mean you didn’t mean, 
not the 
Pretty little things.
you mean and meant to 
send to them.
Sealed with love and a hug
to those aforementioned above.

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An original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell

“Past Petty”

Now that I got that out…
the scream the shout, 
followed by my petty 
but comical spiel.

You must know I act out 
when I truly care. 
Then you dare to 
cause me hurt and pain.
What a sham,
I meant shame. 
Although, we
are both to blame.

The initial lashing out
and the second 
go are over, so 
here’s your goddamned 
closure. 

I am still fucking done… 
we had all our fun 
Then we ran the spout dry. 
No, I won’t call the repair 
guy 
not this time.

I’m done covering all the tolls,
bills, and tills, your days of paying in 
I-owe-u’s 
consider history. 
the end…
All good things meet him.  
Now shake his hand and, 
don’t pretend you couldn’t see
him coming a mile in advance. 
Look, you had your chance.

Now,
I want you to eat, be well, 
and all the good shit but 
Not around me 
no, never 
Again…  
You and me just ain’t a win. 
Me and you just know how to 
sin.
Let’s call it in, and hope we never 
meet again. 

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An Original Poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell

“Mountains”

Take me to the mountains.
let me see the lay of the land,
point me toward the sky at night,
Prop me right up by the fires light.

Give me at least a day or two.
Help me settle back into my skin.
I will come back good as new,
if you just take me out of this city.

Give me a mountain view,
a hike or two.
Okay… more like a few.
A week off work, will work.
No cell service,
a waterfall to sit beneath,
with a cool stream to tap my feet.

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“Past This”
An original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell

Been working on myself and center
Like gravity it is a tragedy, pulling you towards me…
Away again and back alas.

Please just let this pass!

I won’t unlock the door, won’t pick you up off the floor…
Settle the score
Return to the masses, I must get past this.
Continuing this route only ends my life,

But I will surely share the strife.

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“Extra”

An original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell

Everyone I’ve ever met… is afraid they are not enough,
but what happens to those who are too much?
Time and time again I’m reminded of my extra… baggage.

I’m lost at the intersection, and it always comes to this..
My confessions my obsessions are far to intricate.
What once enticed often intrigued you, was the same thing that chased you away.

I never meant to be too much… to loud… to extra.
I never meant to have too much baggage… to many relationships failed…
To. Much. Trauma. I never meant to be too much. I never meant to be.
I never thought I wasn’t enough… It always comes down to the same thing.

One day I will learn to water myself down,
Empty vodka bottles at the age of fifteen taught me this: No one will ever know the difference.
One day I won’t be too much… you won’t need to chase me with coke… you won’t need to water me down.

I will hold back the tears until I choke.
This isn’t a lesson I have never spoke.
We are all starving for a connection, except me,
Lost at the intersection begging to stop my confessions.

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“You Wanted Me to Love Me”

An original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell

You wanted me, to love me… so where is your love?
You wanted me; to love me… so why do I love me less and less?
You wanted me, to love me… so why do I always find you leaving?

You wanted me, to love me… Yet I’m here second guessing all the words you’ve ever said.
You wanted me, to love me… Yet you lie to me while I cry for you.
You wanted me, to love me… Yet you are leading her on, stringing her along.

You wanted me to love me, so now I must move on.
You wanted me… to love me… so I’ve learned to love me.
Loving me was beyond your grasp, though you wanted me, to love me.
Or so you say.

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An original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell

I cannot wait to see your name, followed by no,
Feelings, regret.
With no thought to complement, no,
Worry fluttering, butterfly wings,
Hopelessness; Replacement of happiness,

This was bliss. I’m happy I fucking lived for this.
I do not expect you to come, or furthermore you to…
Sense the sarcasm lingering on my tongue,

No longer do I linger at your finger,
I am no puppet but,
That didn’t make you less of a master.
I couldn’t even tell you what I was after,
But this story wasn’t full of laughter.
I had a picture, frozen in time… etched in my brain,
You were not the one, I was insane… too think the same.

Maybe… I really am to blame: for loving someone so wild..
With intent to tame.
All I want is to feel feelings… the way I did,
Before you crept into my brain… sunk into my skin.

Pour some more gin so I can tell you that you win…
Even though you will not… give in… go away…
Get. Out. Of. My. Brain.

Sheer moments feel like eons, time wasted my love for you… on another.
When you are what I was after, how will there ever be any laughter.

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“Parentless”

an original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell

You asked me once how bad it hurt…

                          So bad my father noticed, and he doesn’t know me… 

                                                                                                or notice me.

                             I never grew from that pain… never learned anything. 

                                      I could not call one, repercussion a gain. 

                                      You were simply another boy to blame.

                                                   She left like the rest…

                                      Even though in death, it is not the same,

                                                       it hurts, nonetheless.

                                      I will use it to fuel my words’ future fame. 

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