Call Me Disturbing

Call Me Disturbing is a simple story about a young boy trying to find his way in the face of many deep rooted family issues, personal insecurities, and a national pandemic. The collection undergoes a

Call Me Disturbing

By Rowan Finn

Dripping Paint

Human howls at night

Painted rocks scattered

Lying just beneath sight

You remain prepared to shatter

I try

to live the lie

That world said was okay.

I can’t help but sigh

when my mind relays

the non-existent graduation

that was supposed to be mine.

Wandering through

blinding darkness

a voice crackles

under the strong steel treads

of your boot.

Sparks of compassion

and courage ignite

off the quickening flame.

Fear becomes reality

Laughs turn to sorrow.

The world turns grey.

Yet every gallon of grey paint

has a drop of silver lining.

Here is mine:

Table of Contents:

Part 1: Ghosts

Remember Me

Okay

Mosquito

We the Murderers

Cracked Knuckles

Dandelion

Guardians

Crows Call

Blinking Line

Human

Part 2: The Men

Walls

Soul Slayer

Charred Ash

Selective Favoritism

“That’s What I am Saying”

Ukulele

Tug of War

Bend

Meri Go Around

Accommodate Me

Part 3: Lump of Clay

The Devil’s Reflection

Chocolate

I do not like Cherries

What Am I?

Poetry+Passion=Purpose

Barren

Part 3: Legally to Be

Blank Name

Which One

Mindful Mindlessness

My Mask

The List

Dish Water

Silhouette

Dirty Fingernails

Tremble

Stagnant Seconds

Crescent

Let Me

Part 4: Infected

Holes

Dots

P

Almost 18

Disclosure

Guiltily Ill

Break the Unbreakable

Sour

Kick and Chase

Paradise on Earth

No Overnight Parking

?

Four-Legged

Part 5: Sterilize Me

Forgive Me

I am Sorry

Bruised not Broken

Healed Hands

Dear COVID 19

Modern Medicine

Scar Tissue

Clarity

Tomorrow

Universal Truth

I am Okay

Finale

Part 1: Ghosts

Remember Me

My town has held me in

Shielding me from beyond vision

A place of ignorant sanity. 

The one thing that let me forget

stripped from my grasp

In a world not my own

A false reality

Superior not true

Everything seems wrong. 

But who am I to say

What is

is simply a game of

shame and guilt

I have seen it. 

I have felt it.

For some, there may only a few months left

To breathe and smile

Why I wonder does the world not remember?

I was chosen 

To be different

And yet, there is denial

I feel like a target

You win if you hit the bullseye.

Okay

Parked in the concrete

of my youth

My young self

Playing with a smile of innocence

Jumping on the playground

of my normality.

Up the wall

Over the bars

Down the slide.

And then,

I trotted up toward myself

and whispered,

“It’s okay.”

“Wait!”

 I stammered

but it was too late.

He was already gone.

Black Cat

The world laid at our feet

All that we have ever known,

and all that we have ever been.

Our lives turning

sometimes faster than the world spins

The final year

sunrise to sunset

We sat listening to the soundtracks of our lives

Staring at the darkness that lies beyond

Attempting to focus on how

we are where we are.

Watching the last sunset of our childhood innocence

fall into the impending darkness.

Quite suddenly out of the neighboring bushes

leaps a black cat

its cries louder and louder

as it scampers to our knees.

Our realities dictated

by more than superstition.

Mosquito

My nails dig ever deeper

irritating my already imprisoned skin.

The unbearable itch finding its way

through the labyrinth of my veins

cannonballing into my heart

and terrorizing my brain.

Day by day

I itch

for the moment when everything is fine

or at least, for the time I become blind.

I itch

for my mother to be finally treated as she deserves.

I itch

for the nights I can sleep absent

of the immense regret I feel toward my unsatisfactory.

I itch 

for a time where the mosquito bites

laced upon my withering body will no longer cry. 

I itch

for the self capability to be confident

even when I am covered in red bumps.

I wonder

if the world is like my body

itching for a time free from the

bloodsucking human beings we are.

We the Murderers

I admire how the grass always grows back

especially after it has been

 cut, killed, and conquered

by the lifeless, improbable human expectations

we all carry so tightly.

At rest the blades sit

anxiously awaiting for their inevitable striking downfall

implanted by our faulty attempt

to one day be perfect.

Cracked Knuckles

My knuckles stained

with blood

cracked from the pressure

to be sanitary.

My skin too tight

It might tear

My burning palm clenched.

The world has

been cracked by COVID.

The palm of the world

remains tightly tortured.

The road

is long

and it will sting

but it is paved

beckoning for us 

to follow.

Dandelion

Surrounded by blades

Threatening to slice

A glimpse of hope.

Desperate for light

to open its heart.

Locked into a life

unchosen.

Dominated by greed.

A weed

it was born to be.

Doesn’t mean

it can’t bloom.

Guardians

A leaf glistens in the newborn light

strutting its green

perfect for all to see

fitting unnoticed in the pack 

dancing among

their sacred guards

standing watch

over their arching shadows.

The forces of nature proved too powerful

when the wind blows

and sky huddles

Breaking from its home

falling free from its protection

left subject to the open world.

Droplet after droplet

bury the life once lived

until it cannot be found.

The essence remain

in  spirit it will live on

twirling in the wind

dancing in the rain.

Its duty to be

the new guardian.

Our tears are like rain

full of downpour and destruction

But eventually it leads to maturity and growth.

Crows Call

I take a step outside

the air damp

clouds shielding the sun’s vision

streets lie empty 

calling for life. 

For the first time in my life

there is no sound

Except for one crow 

that calls out my name.

As my skin warps

I fear

not of being alone

Rather I fear 

having a lonely soul.

Blinking Line

You,

it says.

Use me, do not abuse me

it says.

I lie awake

pondering how

to create beauty

out of letters?

How to inspire a world

overflowing with

anguish? 

And when I finally

have the courage 

to put

pen to paper.

I don’t understand.

Human

In perfect tales

the hero wins

morals perish evil.

In life

superpower is only a dream.

light only thrives 

buried deep within the heart of darkness.

Human vulnerability

creates strength

but nobody tells

why are there no stories

of the human hero?

My bravery

leaked into

the sewer.

Only on paper

can I try to

possess tenacity

In this city

Simplicity is unavailable

I wish to reverse

the modern fate.

Double Vision

The vision of a reality entirely my own

My internal desperation invisible

to the stranger’s eye.

Resolution is worthless

in the face of existential loneliness.

The broken lense encased over my eyes

only exchangeable for total blindness.

A double vision reality

I cannot see the world for what it is

only for what I believe it could be.

Part 2: The Men

Walls

When we talk

my voice goes silent.

Against my will

An invisible wall

blocks normality

So high

impossible to climb

Too thick

to penetrate

Instead we fall

into the same old

mindless rhythm

of victimizer 

and victim.

Soul Slayer

You place the

problems of the world

onto my frail shoulders.

When I cry for help

you turn your back.

Anger fills my lungs

I gasp for breath

my heart collapses

Impossible for you to listen

yet I pray.

Charred Ash

Singed to a crisp

colorless and black.

Our intertwined core

brittle and fragile

Your words are the gasoline

awaiting to be lit

by my eager hope

kneeling for your demonic spirit

to finally evolve.

Selective Favoritism

A one way mirror

of acknowledgment

A conversation of manipulation

Validation for one and only one

Can’t you see

every time you choose to ignore 

You hurt

You damage

You distance

our hearts and

 our relationship.

I listen to the ways

She is slowly hammered down

into a deepening rut of deception.

I am never noticed for what I do

but as soon as your biology enters

validation is plentiful.

Tireless days and nights

you refuse to look beyond, 

Your lack of gratification

can kill.

I do not want to be dead.

Please recognize my name

and her sorrow.

“That’s What I am Saying”

The phrase itself

ridicules the other

and boasts the self.

Every other line

you employ the tool

to make all else

feel less than your

notable self.

Ukulele

Tighter and tighter

you twist me

my screams become higher and higher

until the human ear

cannot hear

no more. 

Your grasp amplifies

until my lifeline

snaps with a loud crack.

Unfixable and useless

I become.

If only you would listen

to the elegant music I was

born to play.

Tug of War

Exhausted from living my life

as a tightening knot

at the center of a tug of war.

Pulled by the two people

who should love me most,

Only under unachievable conditions

will I instill external calm.

My greatest fault lies in the failure

to maintain internal peace in a world

of eternal conflict.

The most devastating world war

rages on inside my wrongly compassionate

heart. 

Bend

My body

stiff and rigid

Point to a part of me and
I’ll tell you what's wrong.

I daydream when

I could do anything

run faster than the wind

remain dry in the rain

jump among the clouds

Now I am stuck

in a casket

called Cancer.

Treatment lied

Should be called abandonment.

My body does not bend

It will only snap.

Meri Go Around

Round and round

our words spin

Expertly you twist my tongue,

molding it to fit your manipulative and greedy desires.

Through the center of the Earth, I can dig

until I will, at last, discover the true color

of your heart. 

Never will I be able to read

the devilish language off your lips

Why do you say what you

do not do?

I am no longer a child

Stop spinning me on this 

Meri Go Around.

Accommodate Me

People say

My brain works differently

I want to believe

I am normal.

but something within me

does not allow

regularity to persist.

Contradicting forces

constantly at work

If I am special

something is wrong.

Yet, everybody struggles

to be the same.

The world seems to

drive around me

as if I am the center 

of a roundabout.

Never touched by the dirty treads

but glared at by all.

surrounded by concrete

I stick out brighter

than I wish to be.

More efficient

if I was a straight line.

Deconstruct me

and repave.

Part 3: Lump of Clay

The Devil’s Reflection

Adrenaline rushes

when I step

on the plastic devil.

It shouts numbers

at me

With covered ears

Something scampers into

my brain

and toxicity invades.

I want to smash

to starve

to cry.

but I don’t.

My breath filled with furocity

at the devil reflected

by the evil scale.

Chocolate

My teeth hurt when

I eat chocolate.

I keep eating

 anyway.

Cherrish Me

I want to share

I dream to be rare.

Why do I even care?

When it only is a tear.

I want to be more than rubbish

I dream to be published.

Who says when I am established?

All I need is to be cherished.

Drifting in the Wind

I am scared 

to touch

the world

I am supposed to

explore.

Instead I walk

without gravity.

What am I

I exist on a screen.

To be a teen

I am not.

I am my words

My words are me

We are each other.

Maybe to be read

Maybe to be abandoned.

Poetry+Passion=Purpose

I am an equation

that can’t be solved.

I have no solution.

I am a canyon with no river

dried from the wandering wind

climbing up my walls.

I am a jack in the box

unable to sing.

twisted too tightly.

I am noise

that blocks the sweet sound of music

I am unknown to myself

Only in solitude can I hear

the soft whisper of

my faint voice.

It is a shame that to be alive

means knowing when you are dead.

I may be dead but I am not dying

for as long as I have this subtle power.

Barren

My most concerning thought

is that my shaking hand will never 

do justice to my

mindless and emotional, self inflicted war.

If anything, I dream

for you to let this

be a beacon of light

in a world of uncertainty.

Part 4: Legally to Be

Blank Name

How to spell

My lines never straight

so simple, so sweet

yet, unwritten

Sometimes 

I feel like my name

is not my own.

Never available for purchase

too rare

too insignificant.

I wonder if life

would be easier

if I left my name

blank.

Which One?

Is mentality

my reality?

 Is reality

my mentality?

I know I am mental

Am I real?

I want to be real.

Mindful Mindlessness

I cannot decide

if I would rather be

mindful or mindless.

Knowledge is a privilege

and should never be abandoned or obstructed

but it would be so easy

so simple

to be ignorant.

My Mask

Demanded

to cover

our identities.

Original voice

ferociously filtered.

We conceal

the smile

tears to be displayed.

Little does the world know

I have worn a mask

for years.

The List

Double digits,

Issues boil out

Every surgery

resurges.

My legs

black and blue

from my indestructible

nemesis. 

I strike myself

with kryptonite. 

the burn never lifts.

Hatred is not

justified

by the

exponential growth.

It is a shame

that to inspire

we need to suffer.

Dish Water

Yellow, and raggedy

an old sponge

I treasure.

Used for wiping up

leftovers

not chosen.

I clean

over and over

with hope for a

thank you.

Rarely does one come.

Sometimes I feel like

dirty dish water.

Silhouette

My words do not count

unless you choose to hear

The conscious effort

to help

To supplement your melting presence

only in your gain

do you finally have solidity

This house caged into a corrupted culture

How long will it take to see

that you are hurting those you surround?

We are nothing but a silhouette in your shadow.

Please look past what the eye cannot see.

Dirty Fingernails

“You look like a girl”

Why don’t you cut

My replies never suffice

the sharp ridicule.

What if I told you

I like the way

dirt fills my inadequate underbelly

I like the way

the grime makes me feel alive.

I hate the way

you chisel me apart

as if looking for a hidden gem that must lie beneath the shameful surface

My skin irritated and thin from your constant scratching.

My nails are long

to embrace the dead

you have erupted.

My bed is wrinkled

for the monster you have allowed

to live under. 

My voice is absent

because I cannot yell loud enough

to penetrate the wall

I have been forced to construct.

I walk

without you

to step on the

fatal pressures you press upon my face

suffocating my breath

and dampening my spirit.

My body stays asleep

for it is too afraid to expose

its vulnerable self.

My cuticles are

bloody and broken

but my fingers will never

be cut short

from your ruthless

self 

again.

Tremble

My hands shake to a silent rhythm

my veins bulge not to burst

I love it when my body trembles

because it reminds me how alive I am.

It is easy to forget

you are not indestructible.

Stagnant Seconds

White never mixes

with yellow.

For miles

infinitely

we can travel

Letting time drift by

waiting for change.

I drive at night

following the humble torch

 ignited by the

starving artist.

Crescent

Ticking away to the tune

of our pulsing blood and beating hearts

The timer of life

awaits for our fatal decisions

that either make us known

or forgotten.

To short to understand

To long to appreciate

Each moment is a blessing

disguised in material design.

It is your responsibility

scratch beneath the crest

and find the crescent that lies within. 

Let Me

I see pictures

of the perfect.

I wonder how,

if

truth exists.

Over and over

I tremble

My body hurts

It cries

I perform never

to the level I desire.

In the mirror 

my skin droops

acne dances

face remains disfigured

scars stick out like knives.

This time is terribly perfect

for the self

but no matter how excruciating

I try

it never

works wonders.

Let me have something

please.

C Words

First Cancer

now COVID.

This world, my world 

dictated by the cage of illness.

Come find me, if you have the courage

I will be your greatest regret.

Capture me, I dare you...

Part 5: Infected

Holes

My brain defined

by the two holes

that made me

nothing more than a

patient.

I try to cover up

what will never be

filled in.

I will always

live

broken.

Left never to be whole.

COVID is only

a number added to

the list.

Dots

My youth illustrated by

beautiful pictures created with nothing but

lines and dots.

Now, one moment

does not predict

the next.

Impossible to

connect the future.

Only backwards

can we make sense.

I wish

I could still

connect the dots.

P

Pain is power,

Power is potential,

Potential is purpose.

Almost 18

So close

adulthood haunts me

I am not ready

I do not want to be ready.

Leaving everything

I have ever known

for a life undiscovered.

Barely able to handle COVID

how will I survive

let alone thrive?

Disclosure

Cured I may be

Poison still lurks at my feet

One wrong step and

I will not be pure.

So sure I was.

turned out to be lured

to a fate unplanned.

My only tenure

is literature.

Guiltily Ill

I am guilty

for my liability

is my fatality.

The threshold of insanity

persists under my sacred veins

threatening to collapse..

The infamous sour sensation

of a metal cylinder

underneath my blank skin

morbidly excruciating.

Sick I am

I like it though.

Break the Unbreakable

I will never

be the son

you want me to be.

Called

selfish and disturbing.

Words misalign

with your actions.

I can’t keep placing

false hope

into what we could be

and ignoring what we are.

An unbreakable circle,

the least you can do is

let me be free.

Sour

In my car

sipping

sour sweet

Cold rain thudded

Rushing water

dribbled

Till I stopped

to stare at

the foggy distance

blanketing the sloping hill

Minutes

Hours

Days

When will life not be so sour?

Kick and Chase

I was running fast, 

rain pouring, endlessly I glided,

my legs numb.

Life was

kick and chase, 

constantly hoping to be an impossible ideal. 

Brainwashed to follow

an invisible boundary placed upon an unpoppable bubble. 

perfect seemed to exist. 

but no matter how much I changed

nobody wanted to see, 

nobody could see, 

nobody decided to see.

Until one day

I snapped in half like a glowstick. 

unable to light, remaining grey, 

my life turned to a drizzle

a hailstorm. 

Until no more tears could fall from my eyes. 

Little by little my light was collected and rekindled 

the bubble joined together to finally see something past perfect. 

they saw me,

bald and weak, 

imperfect I was,

needle by needle we popped the perfect bubble.

Suddenly aware of myself. 

Each stroke hurt ever more 

until my legs became weightless

and my body shook until

at last I surmounted the journey that has given me infinite agony. 

My past and my present,

only allow a reaction. 

a descent it may be 

the bottom beneath me, 

grounding me, fueling me.

 

The trail may remain straight

yet it is destined to change,

for whatever comes my way

I know I can climb any mountain.

Paradise on Earth

Paradise materially

does not exist

Only in your mind

can you travel

the long journey

through the cave of nightmares

and the forest of regret

skipping over proud waterful

climbing confident peak

Eventually,

you will arrive

naked and afraid,

ready for paradise

to be finally real.

No Overnight Parking

If my trust

were a parking lot

there would be

No Overnight Parking.

Time after time

I open my heart

to the warmth of the summer sun

and the world never fails

to pierce my faith with

a frozen icicle.

I am ready for the cold finally melt

out of my veins.

Four-Legged

The chilled breeze and I

staring whole-heartedly

at the world I am left to paint.

The only paper I can write my legal name

is this.

My rhymeless words a comforter too heavy for me to lift

protecting my pale skin from the angry sun

My savior lying with me

four legs and all

seeing the me unknown

together we listen to the chilled wind of my words.

?

I lie to

feel better about

the disturbing truth.

Secretly my sorrow

has another reality.

What is real?

What is normal?

What is this?

So many questions

that will never be answered.

How can I continue?

Part 6: Sterilize Me

Forgive Me

Forgive me for the sins I have committed

Forgive me for the cage I have built around myself

and for letting the key sink to the bottom of the deepest ocean.

Forgive me for failing to be enough.

forgive me for being the problem in your life.

forgive me for me.

for the failing fight

I have gripped so tightly.

for the crumpled piece of paper

I have become,

and the wrinkled scars

that define me.

for being scribbled upon.

forgive me for the fate

fictitiously designed for my becoming.

Forgive me

and help me

find me.

I am Sorry

I am sorry

for the sorrowful excuse I am

of a man. 

Until I prove

what I am

I will keep killing the sensitivity out of me.

I will continue to stab my heart,

yet every time I bleed

my vulnerability only swells ever more.

I am sorry

 I will never be cold blooded.

Bruised not Broken

My legs are bruised 

from the needles that pierce 

my skin. 

Every night I question 

whether my pain will ever

be recognized. 

Forever I will do what

I have to do to remain strong and 

have hope. 

Knowing sometimes

that I may become bruised

and believing I will never

be broken. 

Healed Hands

Our grip

upon reality

strained.

Our grip

among each other

enhanced behind

bonding adversity.

Time may make

our fingers slip

but there will

always be somebody there to

catch our fall.

My hands

may have been wounded

but they will never be worthless.

Dear COVID 19,

I am only

a voice of the billions.

I am only

a boy fighting his own battle.

And I may be damaged

but I am not defeated.

You have taken,

destroyed,

and stomped

on many things.

However, I promised myself

to never let my pain

commandeer my life.

No matter how ruthless

your impact may be

My spirit will only glow brighter

and my love will only

become more indestructible.

My tears

foster my passion

to turn words

into poetry.

Modern Medicine

With every step

the plastic box

rattles 

in sync with my skipping heartbeat.

Crucial for my survival

I rely on the small

pills I do not understand.

Prescribed to a reality,

Saved from the coming darkness

Dependent on the 

Modern Medicine

that killed and destroyed

saved, and rebirthed.

I am unable to decide

what I have to do

only to react

with positive perspective.

Scar Tissue

Behind the golden pins

that mark my excellence

lies the 4 inch dotted line

where the plastic implanted above my heart

was stolen.

My jingling awards

bouncing upon my graduation gown

do not understand,

are not able to see

what my body truly looks like

how my determination artfully developed

by the synchronizing needles

of my vain vulnerability.

The scar tissue on my body

dries my tears.

Expensive Fate

Lost in twirling confusion

We are muddled

Looking to escape the tax called life.

Gaining what the other does not.

This is how you survive,

stammering over the softer voice,

stepping on the broken,

corruption is the lifestyle.

Sometimes I forget

if it is possible to live in

anti tyranny? 

Clarity

Perfectly still, water droplets

they exist

in a state of everlasting peace and ultimate content.

Fearless to be what it is

Prepared to roar if so be

With subtle transparency

the feeling of cold running water with absolute clarity

If only my mind could be such

but even in times of peace

the only clarity is confusion.

How can I close my dam?

How to shut the valve?

I will never run dry

for as long as I have you.

Tomorrow

For all of you

who don’t know

tomorrow. 

Remember

the voices that 

call out your name

and bathe in love for your individuality

is beyond precious.

Remember

the bittersweet smell of fine brewed coffee,

and sip with genuinity 

staring into the beautiful blue eyes of your fantastical friends.

Remember

the frustrating chirp of the twinkle birds

singing whimsical songs that do not need to be

understood. 

Remember

the person who grounds you and keeps you sane

even when the world may be full of war.

Feel the warm hug that comforts you

through pain and sorrow,

 and excites you in times of growth and celebration.

Remember

you are beautifully imperfect

no matter what others say

And nobody can ever

take that away from you.

Remember

your health is your heart.

the more you suffer the more you feel.

Your gratitude for

yourself, and the little

is everything

even when it may feel like nothing.

Universal Truth

Stories

the only thing

carried through time

Above all

are the morals and human heroes

that attempt to explain

how we should be living. 

The beauty

lies within

interpretation.

A noble knight

or 

a vicious villain

You choose

I am Okay

My life will never be the same

I will always have scarred hands and scarred skin.

My brain will remain hollow until I find the words 

to articulate what I feel I have lost.

Every moment,

Every day

is beyond terrifying

and I will cry,

I will tremble

However, the magical release of

poetry never fails to help me explain

what I struggle to feel. 

This makes me okay.

Please find yours.

Finale

My definition will never

be Cancer or COVID

My evolution will always be

writing. 

Call me sick or sad

Call me by name or not

Just please, do not Call Me Disturbing

because I am much, much more

and never again will I feel sorry for who I am.

My name is Finn,

what is yours?

Author's Note

I would love to hear anything you thought or believe it could use to make it better. Thank you.

Reviews

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I think what you can made better here is to make shorter. Mostly people here don't reading long writing. For example short stories are here ignored. I stop read it at part 3. If you divide poem into several separate writing. Maybe it will be more enjoyable and you also keep readers to come in to your writing. Anyway i like how you played with structure and form. It's make lines alive . I think what can also help to use ordinary words and expression . Something what reader known from his daily life. Don't be afraid to be also normal. But otherwise you are quiet skilled poet with flow and free expressions . That's quiet good start. I think it's quite refreshing writing here . You got very powerful emotions at your writing . I think emotions at poetry are more important then skills or profound play with words. So even i don't read it full text i really like it.