Stagnation [POEM]

I will breathe it in.
Tar like lifeblood.
Clawing into nothing
Until it hits bone.
Bitter and putrid
Is my mouth.
Drool tumbles into
Webs for spiders,
Cradling into my
Lifeless body.
Stagnation is too light
A word for me.
Self loathing too
Gentle a sensation.
Inevitable desctruction
Looms above me
As my ever
Consistent sky.

It falls like Dawn I [POEM]

It hit again. Like a rock tumbling to me from a cliff edge.
Not so far away to be invisible to me, but far enough that
I felt its presence coming, strong and fast.
I lay there waiting for its weight to crush me, and found
Myself a willing cushion for its heavy blow.

What is the trick to living, with this constant wedge
Held against the door of my mind. Here I am, sat
Upon my own misery, a throne of sorrow.
I watched all of this coming, from the dusted ground,
But I was unprepared, or complacent to stop it.

 

 

[POEM] Itching gears

I’m a wind up toy that doesn’t understand the difference
Between excitement and fear. Between loathe and love.
Mechanical gears itch forward without any deference
To the true meaning , but if the hand fits the glove…

A thrill tickles against my rib-cage, with high notes,
Paving the way for a panic of horror, despite my smile.
Humdrum chaos surrounds me while I focus on dust motes
Praying those bashful grey things distract me for a while.

If my heart beats strong, it will eventually beat in fear.
If my breathing quickens, slowly it embraces mania.
I become faint, from fervent wishing that I not be here.
But here I am, indeed, succumbed to my brains’ megalomania.

[POEM] Cross yourself

Cross yourself with due diligence,
Marking off each of your sins
One by one until they ring in your
Head, drowning out every sound.

What, then, do you hear?

Flimsy plastic sword of intelligence
Battles the stifling outs and ins
Of your demons, bitter and sour,
Stuck firm and tightly wound.

Who, then, is near?

Broken ribs creak inwards to
Crush the fluttering heart
That dies to break free so very
Desperately. Pain. Just pain.

Alone, even darkness shuns you
And leaves you far apart
From the world of mortals, nary
A breath or soul looks in vain.

Let me pass.

[POEM] It is back

It has reared its ugly head again.
I would say it was sadness, but it is pain.
I would say it is a dip, but it’s a trough.
It feels as if I will never be enough.
It has crawled its way into my heart,
Hoping to tear my progress apart.
As long as it has taken me to move on,
It suddenly feels as if it’s never been gone.
My self control is waning every second.
I can’t help but fall into this fecond
Pit of material comfort. I would rather
Crawl out than stand, buried, than gather
Dust down here.

Down here alone, and failing.

[POEM] And into the forest I go…

And into the forest I go
To lose my mind and find my soul,
Never letting up or letting go
While I stop my pills and drown at shore.
I see the sea miles away
But bubbles and salt fill my lungs
More and more day by day
Where air once caught and deadly hung.

She sings a song that no one can hear,
Whether miles away or so very near,
The lady of the dark so lost and alone
She withers away to dust and heavy bone.

So into the forest she does,
To lose her mind and find her soul,
Never letting up or letting go
While she stops her pills and drowns at shore.
She sees no sea miles away,
Salt falls on cheeks, fear fills lungs
More and more day by day,
Where are once sat, she deadly hung.

She sings a song that no one can hear,
Whether miles away or so very near,
The lady of the dark so lost and alone
She withers away to dust and heavy bone.

Away from the forest they go,
In fear of their minds and eternal souls,
Letting up and quickly letting go
While she suffers their failures and drowns at shore.
They float atop the sea, far away,
Salt floats beneath as they sing songs,
No more troubles as they sway,
On wooden boats while she is wronged.

She sings a song that no one can hear,
Whether miles away or so very near,
The lady of the dark so lost and alone
She withers away to dust and heavy bone.
No one will know that she died alone.

[POEM] Trembles

My skin trembles like badly made lines
Drawn onto cheap, crumbling paper.
My insides feel barely drawn in to these
Makeshift shapes, as if they could spill out.

I shy away when the sun beats and shines
Down against my inconsistent labor.
My attempt to live. My avoidance of peace.
Makeshift existence that I can live without.

Shakes wrack my thoughts and physical
Form constantly. Sometimes noticed,
Other times ignored through the heady
Sensations of another day loved.

Voices in my head again, all eligible
For my attention. The closest, focused
Shrieks they let out overcome just any
Other noise, drawing my heated blood.

 

[POEM] Living in other worlds (inspired by “Other Worlds” by Trivium

We’re dreaming in color
But we’re living in other worlds
Breathing in other worlds

“She’s drowning”

His eyes light upon his found prize.

He has searched through heaven, with hope in his heart.

And there he found her, next to his body, far gone from his spirit.

Her eyes were vacant as they stared through him,
Gold leaf painting the sky as it bled for her, for them.
Every cloud was finished with a murder red trim
As if someone had sliced off each one’s hem.

Blind, and breathless, a cage for a bird was her body,
No longer a vessel for life, as she found herself lost.
Living in another world. Breathing in the other worlds.

She choked on this grey sin, though he was holy.
Her form, cut with hues, was crippled from heavy cost.
Dying here, while her soul reached out to other worlds.

You’re like a song within a nightmare
A thought within a scream

Lances burst through with colour on solid flesh,
Desperate tears run ink black down pale skin,
Living within her own mind, she finds the colours
Of her torment painted on the sky, in its spears
And dripping languorously. So beautiful. So Fresh.
Eyes wide, she had seen her fate before, akin
To a dream, unlike a nightmare, fleshed behind doors.
Her fingers tremble against her death. It burns. It sears.

His knees grit beside her broken body, fingers seeking her relief.
His hands coat in her purple and red ink, her black tears of paint.
His eyes watch, as the dark figure of death swirls like a thief.
His soul prays, hoping this world lost traveler finds a saint.

To rid her of her colorful sin.

To mend the broken bird of her suicide.

To heal his knowledge of her, and forget what he knew… That he knew she would choke and die in this world, when she was connected to so many.

We’re dreaming in color
But we’re living in other worlds
Breathing in other worlds

Her, broken. He, welled with grey tears.
Fingers forever stained with her years
Of blooming, hue filled pain.
A rainbow of sorrow.

 

[Poem] Blessed

Finding the right words to express joy
When it has been a longtime stranger…
Learning to feel its elation through my bones
Is hard enough, but to entrap it with words?

It’s as if I have found an old childhood toy,
And am struggling to make it work. Danger
Is in the back of my mind. Chance blown
As my fingers clumsily untangle it in thirds.

The tip between happiness and pitfalls
Is far too near to rest easy within glee.
But I still clutch onto it, not too hard,
In hopes I can keep it near.