i wear hate like a weapon, tied
at my waist
consuming each step with depth
and purpose
would that I could burn this absurdity
to the ground, and dance upon
the ashes of what remains
with laughter on my voice
and darkness in my heart
oh anger, my deepest ally
my darkest asset
this stirring creates such pain
within my soul
and yet, i cling to you now as breath
to a newborn child
as revenge weighs heavily upon
my chest
Tag: pain
just a joke
just a joke
my face, my heart, my untethered
fleeting fate;
the folds of time that keep
this flame burning;
this life in its entirety…
just a joke
flying, falling, burning, rising
all just the same boring
proposition that leads
me back to the same place
within the heavens-
so why are these tears still
falling?
there’s nothing left to fear
as all that was, is ripped from
me…
i am no more
but a joke to behold
i thrive on the falsehood of
my illusions
and tie my heart to a failing
sun and waning moon
smote upon the ground
i am sometimes unwell…
i sometimes suffer at the hands
of mental abandonment,
and when this force of logic
is untethered from my reality
i am destined to crash
after i fly;
broken bones, shattered emotions,
chaos around me
burning all i’ve built to the ground
as i fall into a deeper darkness…
cycles of my mind swirl
like falling leaves within a tunnel
of whipping wind;
impossible to follow;
ripping at the frayed edges of soul-
until all that was, ends up smote
upon the ground
Haunted heart
i am lost to the tides
that have changed direction;
the moon’s sway moves my heart
as words, unintended, strike
at the center of me
and brandish a cold sword
of hate from within the darkness
of my pain…
would that I could dissolve into
the earth and let go of
all that makes me shiver so,
and release this haunted heart
back into a place where it could
do no further damage
willingly
pounding head, aching heart
nothing left but sorrow…
fallen pieces of what could be
linger now like broken rainbows
upon the floor-
and of this heart, i cannot speak,
the pain has choked the words
that might have explained my
broken dream…
though the sun shines, and birds
sing, and all that was good still
drifts upon the waves of fresh
and pretty air
my dungeon is in darkness
that no one can see
and here I remain willingly
metallic rain
cold, hard, metallic rain hasn’t stopped
falling in days-
so obviously different from the sounds
of summer’s thunder, warm and soft
to touch, full of breath and life;
now this piercing rain, uncompassionately
lands heavily upon this heart of mine,
each drop a reminder of distant pain,
hidden from sight, blackening the very
heart in which it clings…
hateful falling rain, tearing at the wounds
of time, mocking the very fabric
from which it stings-
there is no shelter from these sounds
of the past, echoed now within
the prickling drops pouring down
outside upon my windowsill
sanity
lost… lost… this mind
is lost to the echoes
calling me backwards,
dragging me to some
inane spot of time
that lingers in the backdrop
of painful memory …
unwilling to be released
and fighting against the hands
of time that slowly click
away the moments of morality,
this heart suffers at the sword
of thought that refuses to let go,
and will not give in …
this unending tug of time,
that cannot release the soul
from suffering,
weighs with each tick
a little heavier
upon the chest of my sanity
Shadows
silver dawn creeps between
the trees, playing hide
and seek with the moon;
as squirrels dart frenetically
around with acorns in their
teeth…
while dusty summer holds on
to what remains of light,
autumn will soon give way
to darkness, as she swallows
the morning and encourages
the night…
oh changing seasons, so indefatigable
in your constancy!
this heart of mine longs
for distance from the shadows
that darken it so
but just as winter steals bits
of day, so must we delve into
what lingers in the darker
parts of ourselves…
maybe
maybe i remember the low,
cold feeling of concrete
where i lay, sleeping…
maybe i remember how the ground
felt under my feet as i made
my way through tunnels of pain
to end up in that same place…
maybe i remember the room
and the peeling paint and the
ripped wallpaper as i stared into
the distance pretending
that you cared and i was safe…
maybe i remember how you left
that day- as if i was trash to be
thrown away…
maybe this bent mind would rather
forget you and that place and the
broken pieces that linger still
behind my face
crickets
morning sun remains hidden
as sheets of growing darkness
cover the dawn with gliding
fervor; crickets relay songs
of summer as they drift slowly
into winter’s sleep;
and how this heart of mine
beats quickly, remembering
the change in time, and how the light
slowly drifted from before my eyes-
as what was left of my innocence
was stolen by the marching of
soundless ignorance…
what was i before this breaking
that took my mind?
crickets still fight against the impending
darkness that will cause their demise
and I wonder, why couldn’t i?
the SIBYL'S SONG 