[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.



[POEM] The burning

My bones have wilted ‘neath
The harsh glare of the sun.
Limbs weak, gaze languid,
Stars blocked from eyes with
Grey storm clouds.
My tongue lies heavy in
My mouth, an unwelcome
Visitor in this casket that
Once lived so brightly. So very
Intermittently. A candle
Flickering, born and dying
Every hour, never able to
Make up its mortal mind.
It asks: Am I fire?
Or am I being burned?
Through the pain and
Self awareness it does not know.
I do not know.
But what is the different if
The slow burning pain
Feels just the same either way?


[POEM] Tether

This tether is tenuous, flimsy
As I swing against billowing wind.
Half sleeping wakefulness,
Drinking in my lethargy like the
Sweetest liqueur.

Swimming in syrup that chokes
Into my lungs, I can’t gasp
Or scream, though I desperately
Want to. Spitting out the bile only
For it to pour back in.

I can’t cling, or grab, or crawl,
Only swing at the mercy of this
Thin string of consciousness.
When will I be awake enough
To smell the Earth again?


[POEM] .

I can feel their grip tightening today.
Where reality becomes as tenuous
As the breath from my imagined
Demons. Which should I turn
My cheek to?

Reaching for their overdue pay.
They make living just as arduous
As the dreams that blackened
My heart. How should I burn
My sins away?

I curl myself into comforts that
Stretch as far as time, but penetrate
Shallow into my soul. When will
I be whole. When should I battle
For my life?

Vision turns angled and flat.
Sounds bombard me and reverberate
Through bleached bones. My pill
Won’t make me whole. Who will rattle
My chains for freedom?

Darkness and coffin surround
Me unseen, until I bury myself,
With only my imagination to weep
At my death. What has this
Sorry life become?


[POEM] Sometimes

It still strikes within my broken body
When I had thought it was dying a death.

It turns, grinning and moving wildly
And reminds me of its depth and breadth.

All consuming, it pushes in madly
Demanding I give it each ragged breath.

All sense of time and true reality
Leaves me, as does my soul’s wealth.