When you are erased write your lines back into the poem of existence – when ignored step up and swing the bat on the front lines – organized religions a sham a mechanism of control – I can’t remember yesterday but I remember tomorrow – I wonder what he is doing right now – slap myself for being pitiful – the lecture drags on my mind island jumping from thought to thought wind leafs dance in the absence of the son.
What do you do when you want to flee yourself hide in the darkness from your own hope – hope hurts more than despair – today hope causes my soul to shrivel – I want to know if my hope has a chance – I am afraid fear will kill that hope – I don’t know how to rationalize or compartmentalize this as I have done other things in my life – lacking the ability to do so terrifies me – it’s how I dealt with family and friends small hurts and long years piled on one another – it enables me to survive – if I can’t control this hope like I have controlled other things I fear it will devour me – the darkness of despair has already eaten at me a little – I feel that wound fester brighter than the ray of light that hope brings – I can’t outrun myself.
I am afraid of the future & ashamed of the past – not any future nor any past – I do not delude myself into believing I care about the grand scheme – my future & my past I wish to ignore – remain lost in the labyrinth – should I pay the piper or dance with the devil or make up my own soulless saying – the past taunts – the future crooks a finger – I hug my knees & howl at shooting stars – what else should I do.
I am tired of wondering what your weight would feel like on me
I am tired of wondering if this will pass or continue to haunt
I am tired of wondering what your hands could do to me
I am tired of wondering if this is pointless
I am tired of wondering what you mouth would taste like
I am tired of wondering why I scare you
I am tired of wondering how your tongue would dance
I am tired of wondering how you could fill me
I am tired of wondering what it will take to stop wondering.
A stain marks the spot – all that is left of someone’s existence torn down to a stain in the carpet – the neighbors did not hear the end – they were too busy with their own sordid lives – the landlord is replacing the carpet on Tuesday – today is Monday – the next tenants will never know about the ghost that remains in the living room under the east window – some things merely cease to be – to have ever been – once that happens nothing will bring those proofs back.
Flying in the rain – skin dry heart sobbing – the rain in the dark closing around the sobbing – dryness among the raindrops – some things touch you others pass by unnoticed.
If I enjoy being lost does that mean I am not lost
I live in a tiny little yawn of a town that rests unnoticed by most on the side of the interstate
Trust yourself and explore where IT takes you what IT is doesn’t matter
The words together make a painting with no definition
Pancakes and chocolate cake with two-day-old coffee the breakfast of champions
Please do not tell me about the other girls you like I can only take so much.
It used to make me cry – the tears on her face & the rage in his eyes – voices raised loud & I hid in whatever corner I could find – froze till I became numb to it all – later it made me rage against him – especially after brother left – but I can’t blame him for leaving – just for not taking me when he went – then he had no one to stop him – to give him pause – I was too small to save her – yet something stopped him from coming at me – except for once – that day I cried my heart out – the friend who held me has hated him to this day – that friend is gone from my life – another unhealed wound that festers when touched – I wish I needed her now but I don’t – not as much or at least I didn’t – defenses shattered again this summer – left in tiny shards of black glass – she cried on my shoulder & asked me if I thought he still loved her – I can’t reconcile the hate I feel for one side & the love I feel for the other – need to put the shield back up because I don’t think I can take this – I don’t want to take it – if I don’t pull what’s left of the ice together I will lose what’s left of the love in the hate – & then the remnants of my heart will shatter again – put the shield back up because it is easier when no one is able to see beneath to the girl hiding in the corner with tears on her face – need to be numb again so that no one can see how easy it would be to worm their way in & break me – like he once did – like he still can – maybe the friend has a reason to hate him still & I have a need for her that has never gone away – those days are gone – it is my battle to save myself.
How does a color whisper to my soul – cry tales of past lives with a wailing voice – eerie echoes of varied hues haunt my heart’s despair – collections of memories shatter my glass compartments – everything unsolved floods into me – I can’t swim just sink deeper and deeper beneath the surface of warring emotions and raging memories that I don’t recognize as mine – take a breath lungs fill with liquid memory – above the surface colors dance in mad hues begging for me to listen.
Time jumps – grasping – life moves on into the nothing lacking all definition – fear – love trembles in my hands choking on false air – pain bleeds into blank skies filled with crows – moaning – tears water plants withering life with no design – deconstruct the whole see what lays beneath the flesh – see how many ways you can put it back together – completion fails to exist a nonsensical concept – death brings no end – hands cramp around a pencil longing to be on flesh instead of – outside white walls people live sobbing meaning evades.