Jordan A. Burgh
Bio
i write quotes based of my life as seen through my mental illnesses, i share most of my writings in snippets and quotes. follow my instagram for more posts @jordan_burgh
Stories (9)
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The Interrogation
Some well seasoned bar veteran sat down next to me an one day after observing me at the bar lately. He abruptly shifted all focus to me and simply asked me, “what makes you happy? Why are you the way you’ve been these last few month. Why do You come here and just sit silently. Like seen something unforgettable and clearly some unforgivable?” I answered initially with this feeling I cant seem to replicate any way. This feeling I never knew how to describe or even could find words for. As I told this old head at the the bar packed with music blasting in the distance, that hopefully drowned out the sorrow in my voice. He hung on to every syllable that followed as I spoke with at first the biggest lies I ever told to hide my now mended heart. Mended poorly with just a small improvised bandage like the ones worn by soldiers made of cotton and loosely tied up. Yet he persisted in his interrogation. Finally giving into to his brutal questions no one asked me before. If not for those aforementioned question, I snapped into a serious a tone. Ive tried to hard replicate such a vocal tone since and have failed. The moments that followed I answered as honest I could after the lies betrayed me for so long before. Trust me, I tried to dodge such interrogations with everything I possibly could’ve come up. Simply I caved and let my heart. Opening this door to a man who now knew I hid behind more layers the most, Something about this old marines interrogation, broke through to a man than rarely gave in like this. To me, Ill never forget what I said “Ill never have it again” was the first words out of my mouth. Even as I write my heart out, trying to replicate the story of an interrogation of the deepest kind of emotion that couldn’t have ran deeper It unfolded before my eyes that night. All I remember was talking about a night, spent cuddle on a couch and I saw things. Crazy enough, I saw my future ten year from now, twenty from now. I saw it all in her eyes. I described in such detail from where I sat. I saw things in her eyes, Ill most likely never see again. I remember what we watched, the music that played, the feeling I felt and most importantly the future I saw. Ill never see that future again and thats what tore me apart the deepest. I saw this future, and a most importantly I saw home and a person I wished stayed. As a tear rolled down from this man eye, all he could do is buy me a shot and shake my hand and said “well put”. What i said under my breath, i simply went “I wish somebody would just stay a while longer.” For I am so tired of starting over and over and with new faces with the same eyes.
By Jordan A. Burgh4 years ago in Poets
Desperation
When you see the desperation of mankind and how it changes one’s perspective of life. We all have seen it, rarely do we recognize it. You’ll first notice the truly animalistic nature of the human brain at its most emaciated for attention or nourishment of any kind. Ive lived through it. Ive been there, it changed me more than anything else. We all can make it through our worst, most demonic senses of entitlement for the most basic of life’s necessities. Yet the part that I find the most fascinating is the people who have it all and become something far from human and far from animalistic, they become monsters. This monster that rival are darkest fears and turn us into the anxious shattered imagines of ourselves. The will some will go for more than simplicity of staying alive, the will some will go for the luxuries of attention with their monstrous intent. An intent so strange to me, as all I every wanted was simplicity and happiness
By Jordan A. Burgh5 years ago in Poets
The Temporary Man
Temporary man By Jordan A. Burgh The temporary man in your lives is me, the man the holds the scissors. Im the healer of lost souls. The damages and damned come to me when no one else will listen to their cries. Im the one who heals, advices and tugs ever so lightly on the strings of trauma that hold them high above the ground. I help them cut the strings of puppeteer that wants nothing but to hang them ever so above the ground dangling for help. I heal them only for them to run free and be happy. They leave me so I can help the next soul and for that Is the gift and the curse of the temporary man that holds the scissors capable of cutting away our deepest most negative thoughts. It’s a responsibility, I hold dear and close to my lost soul
By Jordan A. Burgh5 years ago in Poets
The library of souls
“Imagine if you will, there is a library of lives. Bare with me for a second, just one second I swear, think of each book in this enormous library contains a story, a perspective of life from each soul that ever lived or will. A library with countless aisles that seems to go on infinitely, Imagine how many of these books you’ll never read or even impact the particular course of their own history or the path its heading. Picture if you can how you’re nothing but a side character or a supportive role in all the lives you influence on a daily basis and vice versa. How many lives you’ll only read about and how many have never even been written yet. Even worse yet how many stories are nothing more than a rerun episode, you’ve read a millions of times and are tired of reading.
By Jordan A. Burgh5 years ago in Poets
The wolves
"THERE COMES A TIME IN OUR LIVES, WE DONT SEE IT TILL ITS TOO LATE.WE'VE GROW COMFORTABLE IN OUR CHOICES,ACTIONS AND THE PEOPLE WE ARE SUROUNDED BY.I KNOW THE TIME VERY WELL AT THIS POINT,WE CAN CHANGE COURSE AND HOPE FOR THE BEST,CARRY ON WITHOUT A CARE IN THE WORLD, OR LET THE WOLVES,CREEP IN AND RIP US TO SHREDS.EVERYONE WANTS YOU TO GET RIPPED APPART BY LIFE, PICK YOURSELF UP AND STAY ON YOUR OWN.FUCK THE PACK,FUCK THE COMFORT,AND DEFINITELY FUCK THE PEOPLE IN OUR LIVES,THEIR OFTEN THE WOLVES IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING" - JORDAN A. BURGH
By Jordan A. Burgh5 years ago in Poets
The Jump
“Im stuck somewhere between apathy and a big heart. The more I fall, the more I want to hold onto the reality in this apathetic life than the dreams of falling for you. Its like I’m a mountain, just to find myself wanting to jump to what seems to be a better tomorrow. Ive already grasped the ropes of safety harder, as the dangers of nosediving for you become more and more tempting. As your eyes stare with the innocence of wanting me to jump, yet they are ever so plagued with dangers of lowering the walls, of this caged off heart to let you in. Im so split with the consistencies of safety then risking it all. I find this dream of hoping you’d catch me when I says f***
By Jordan A. Burgh5 years ago in Poets
Her
Her Part I We ran into each other for the first time in far too long, nothing but this simple heartbreaking “hey” passed between our mouths as this chance encounter echoed our last conversation and memories flood the gates of our heads and heart. we said nothing more as we stared in a mutually guarded state of wanting to walk away again or say something more than a walled off greeting ether way we carried on as if we both held ourselves back from the words we couldn’t say as if they were on the tips of our bitten off tongues. You feel it in the room as if there was a cold war brewing the tension in the air between us, as we both wanted to say how much we regret it all, how much we wished our lives could’ve been different. Nonetheless, we carried on for our pride in the most painful unanswered silence, that was our curse for we cared too much for each other to speak up.
By Jordan A. Burgh5 years ago in Poets
Her
If You ever heard of “chasing the dragon” and if I’m being honest with myself, you’re the dragon, ill never catch. Furthermore,I frequently find myself deep in thought thinking introspectively, about you, me, the pursuit and the dragon. Its off putting to me that I find myself thinking about how I dream for this day to walk in, walk out, leaving you mystified and entranced in what could be.
By Jordan A. Burgh5 years ago in Poets
Her
“It wasn’t in the words we exchanged, Rather the looks we gave. Our minds left us standing on the edge of the walls we built years ago. The power of our longing to say what we couldnt was matched only by our hearts and bodies as we welcomed each other as something deep down pulled us in. This silent void between our guarded spoken words was filled by a simple curious smile, hand wave like the tail of dragon guarding her most valuable treasures and flirtatious glare that could ignite the room, its was beautiful in its own regard as it was perilous. Each step we would take the next time we lay our eyes upon each-other, with stares could only start wars, for she was my Helen of troy, my red beautiful dragon. For that enough left me shook to my core for every silent moment felt like a war brewing between us. That war was coming to fruition and we would be the spark that started it all. For it was tragedy so dark and we found a light in the flames of our hearts”
By Jordan A. Burgh5 years ago in Poets
