Writing to Survive

When I was 14, I started writing poetry almost every day. It was the only way to get the pain out of my mind where it threatened to overwhelm me. I owe my 2nd grade teacher a great deal of gratitude because she helped me realize my love for writing and expressing myself when I was 7. In the beginning of the school year she handed out journals, and she told us that every week we would be asked to do writing assignments in them. I enjoyed writing about my experiences, and soon I began to fill another journal at home with poetry and stories. My parents encouraged my love of writing as well, which seems so ironic now.

In 1995 when my depression kicked in, I spent most of my time in my room listening to music and writing poems. I fell in love with free verse because it allowed me to just write and not worry about form. Sometimes I rhymed, but I found that internal rhyming and alliterations were what sounded right to me. Throughout my teenage years I filled multiple journals with my truth; it was the only outlet I had. However I had to write some of it very cryptically because I knew my parents searched my room and read my writing sometimes. A therapist I had when I was 16 told my parents to buy me the book Courage to Heal (I don’t recommend it, it’s not well written… It was ok for a teen. I hadn’t even told her I’d been abused because I was scared and dissociative. But all my therapists thought I had PTSD and were trying to get me to talk). Anyway, my parents reluctantly bought me the book, but a few weeks after that therapist retired, the book vanished from my room. Five years later, I found it hidden in my mom’s antique chest in her bedroom. She had tried to steal my courage to heal. Lol, she’s a coward.

So here are the shitty teenage poems that saved my life. Well, this is probably about 5% of them. I wrote like I needed poetry to breathe. It’s hard to share them because I was just learning to write, and I played around with words and ideas. But they all contain clues, pieces of the puzzle that validate me to this day. A lot of these scary images reappeared ten years later when I wrote in my twenties, and then again in my thirties. I’ve included some of my later poems as well. The creepy thing about that is I had forgotten what I wrote in my teens. I used to remember, and then forget, and then remember the scary stuff again. It was a never ending cycle, I felt like a goddamn goldfish with a five second memory. And that is why these poems are so important, because they were my truth on record, my fragmented story. Now that I don’t forget anymore, the fragments have come together to form terrifying and clear memories… almost like snippets of horror movies that play in my head. But before I could get to that point, this is where the story started being recorded by me and other parts. It’s actually a big deal for me to let anyone read them, especially because they’re so raw, and I was so young. [Note: If you see this (…) in a poem it’s because I removed some content, otherwise this post would be even longer. It was hard to choose which ones to include]. I also don’t really expect anyone to read all these poems. This is mostly for me, because now our words are going to be permanently recorded on this site. That’s very empowering for us. Instead of hiding our story in journals that have been locked away for decades, we are finally not afraid. It’s also incredibly powerful for me to use my writing to see how far I’ve come in my healing journey, because now I understand everything so much more clearly. The memories don’t have as much power over me anymore. I feel free.

Grinning Walls of Pain (December 1995)

I close my eyes

to shut out

the morbid pictures that

come again

into my brain

scream

I yell

knife in my side

I fell

save me please

grinning walls of pain

are all I see

They don’t need me

Can’t breathe

This black smoke

Tied to a wall

it laughs

I scream

Knife in my side

come again

into my brain

I deserve it all-

all this pain

in the devil’s hall

I’m a devil, all

I do is scream

for death.

breathe in

breathe in

all I can do

is breathe in

my lungs

full of black,

black smoke

they burst

my yellow lungs

my angry thirst

the grinning walls,

the devil’s halls.

We Let Ourselves Drive on a One Way Street (October 1996)

To step into darkness and see this world

is to fall through the cracks of time,

and time is full of cracks; it’s a

man made bridge about to collapse,

And we let ourselves drive on a one way street.

Listen to the falling sky; it talks to you

like when truth visits the insane.

The rain reminds me of tears and blood

both of which I have shed

for my buried angel…

you’ll find the hope in your superficial life…

And to come with me would mean certain death,

and to understand me, you would never be free.

Closed Falling Minds (September 1996)

Dull ache and guilt,

where am I going?

Somewhere below life, I’m

out of my body- scarred,

red and stinging-

I’m somewhere, nowhere…

forget me,

forget my scars

because the blood

has washed away

shattering the day;

I am among tree savers and

closed falling minds,

nothing lives and

I can’t die-

I’m somewhere, nowhere…

Let me go.

Let Me Out (1996)

I have been beaten from my senses, this emptiness

is a tiring and invisible ghost, and there is nothing

in this world that can hold me here; no chains, no one.

I am unhappy without the rain because it cries with me,

it covers the sun in my mind, in the sky… let me out.

I don’t know why I still wander around the dead;

I don’t know why I cling to this pain,

And the splintered bones of a thousand deaths haunt me,

but I just can’t leave.

And I don’t know why I can’t imagine blue skies,

but I love the unlovable, trying to

reach the unreachable. It stings.

Yesterday I cried for the first time in what seems like a thousand years,

but all it brought was more emptiness,

And I have no reason to fall and give up,

wasting away in a puddle of blood;

I have no reason to suffer, but still I do.

And is that my fate, is that all?

Last night I was pulled out of my body

and I slept among sadness and dark clouds.

Hours later I awoke and screamed in my crazy six foot ditch;

They left me there, in hell, all alone.

Things Can Only Get Worse (1996)

There was a time when time ended

And there were days of peace,

trapped in a wooden box

six feet under ground,

And the sun shined down on

our bleached bones

with a happy face,

and the birds flew in

careless spirals above us,

blessing our empty skulls…

It’s as if I’m going down hill-

things can only get worse

It’s as if I deserved to burn

in the insanity of my mind,

things can only get worse.

I run from the glare of these

empty shells of people

only to find that they’ve

trapped me in their

restricting box again.

THINGS CAN ONLY GET WORSE.

Remember (1996)

My mind repeats a familiar phrase;

Let me go, Let my bones break

and fall to the floor

under welcomed gray clouds

Please let me go

and let my body burn

and let my soul die.

Summer’s sun fades,

and my funeral cry

will embrace the rain,

I am real enough

to deserve the pain.

I don’t want to be

the hopeless one

who gave up, and

I don’t want to be hated,

But wherever I go

the blood of a thousand sufferers

will flow through my veins…

I live on,

keeping lost souls alive

in my diminishing memory.

Summer Hate (1996)

My words assail themselves

with sharpened wooden sticks

and I remember his eyes,

and I remember the skies

of running red blood.

I want you to know

that I don’t trust

your smiling face.

I am dead,

there’s nothing left

but emptiness;

you’ve taken away

my love, my life,

and a knife

isn’t sharp enough

to cut through your heart.

Kill Me (1996)

I cringe with the thought of past reveries

flashbacks from a different life.

Memories seem further away than death,

like dark images you just can’t reach,

hidden behind the doors in your mind,

locked away in no-life stasis.

Who am I to open my eyes

and stare back at your emptiness?

Steal off of me, steal my strength

as I shake a thousand times,

crushing my head against the walls,

I’m hidden in the corner,

hidden in my exploding mind,

so calm with no voices to

intrude upon the placid waters,

Steal off of me, steal my peacefulness

and my catatonic state,

take in my energy and

become the cannibals I know you are,

but what do I get in return?

Give me my space as I writhe in pain

and call out, Go Away!

Give me space so I can breathe

in and out, wanting more than oxygen,

wanting more than this twisted life,

Give me space as my mind

reaches past your distorted faces

and into the depths of

subconsciousness;

Hold out your hand and blood will flow,

Be sure to and you won’t die

from the metal spikes and guidelines.

And too bad my mind carved

out my skin like it was paper,

red ink flows like a river, give me space,

give me space as I shake,

And you cannot kill me,

you cannot fill me with the facts

that you think you thought you knew

because your words are empty

and punish themselves with hypocrisy.

I’ll tear down my mind and

build it again, all without

you, give me space,

you cannot kill me,

pale faced ghosts of

society’s weakest.

Let me go, let me fade

into the darkness, the only

thing I can see,

Turn away…

turn away and tend to your other

victims

screaming for salvation.

You cannot kill me.

Gravestone (1996)

What’s wrong with your decapitated head?

It cries and it screams

with vulnerable pain

like a dying soldier

in the falling rain.

And I can’t do anything for you

when you lie there

under the understanding

of an oak tree.

You say it speaks to you

and I don’t disagree

but there are times that

you just can’t see me.

Run, please run

before your soul deteriorates

below the oak tree and the setting sun,

please run.

XXX –What’s Next Assholes? (1996)

What do you expect from me

If you take away

my colorful light and

try to make my copied shell

benign and submissive, what

do you expect from a lifeless

being, what do you

expect from my still heart?

Stand still in my head

and take a look around

at the excruciating memories

on the shelves.

And what could I be

now I’m nothing?

I will not follow your

lines of assimilated machines;

I will not let you

destroy me.

Don’t Turn Around (1996)

Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

That’s a risk you shouldn’t take

conversing with the devil,

full of silent evil,

I see the hate in your eyes…

And it’s too late now,

the blood has already been spilled,

silent liquid on the silent dead.

I wouldn’t turn around now

because your past is full of mistakes

stained with your peaceful brutality.

And you do not seem to care,

but the whole world wants

the chair…

Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

Heaven hides and hell’s gates are open…

He’d kill you in a second.

Modern Homicide (1996)

More flowers are crushed innocently

by the enraged fist,

All they saw were three X’s

before darkness and death

like three dead eyes

laying down a sentence

they have already been through.

And what has become of your

seeds of modern drama,

where are the flowers of humanity

that make you so proud?

It was not me who deprived

them of life; it was not me

who ripped them from the ground

because they never grew,

and they never knew

the meaning of life.

What do you expect to grow

from such devastated soil?

Looking Down a Flight of Stairs (1996)

I close my mind to protect

our world from

the ravaging thoughts in my head

And like a funeral ghost

I sit among a thousand tears,

some of which never fall,

entangled in the accusations

of those I try to protect.

I wish it wasn’t this way, but

some days I hate more than others

while the beat of a tired drum

pounds through my head,

not willing to set me free.

And I always find myself looking back,

wishing I were somewhere else,

hidden from this satanic mess.

Satan’s Happiness (1995)

Walk proudly among your fellow demons

and hold my broken skull up high

because there’s angels on the ground

and the devil’s in the sky

smiling down at all he sees

as you crush my hated soul

burning my worthless body;

Nothing’s right when I lose control.

Can’t Reach the Ground (1996)

A broken glass bottle

lies ten feet away

among the dead oak leaves,

and the stench of rotting flesh

creeps around the trees

overcoming the moon’s power,

swaying in the wind

with tired bells and a

rusty collar of metal;

small white flowers hide

from the drip, drip, drip

of salty red…

And the flies gather

like a dark face mask

dotted with crawling white stars;

I have not given up,

but time has begun to sting.

from Reasons for My Cracked Skull to Believe In (1996)

There were times when I

was just a shell,

with no pull of the moon

to guide me along…

But I am grateful for your power

because you govern me

with the sharpened claws

of your mind,

and you hold me under

the dark waters of life

until I drown and live

and drown again.

Uncovered (1996)

I am standing in the sunlight

reaching back into my mind

falling further through the years

until I hit another unknown area

of darkness, a place that blinds me.

And it is like no other place

that I have visited, so full of traps

and pain and hatred.

Standing in the sunlight

I am oblivious to the external warmth,

only the coldness of

my self, concentrating on the

hidden flashes of vision.

If there is anything to find

I will be sure to find it

and it will no longer be locked away

and the pain will have been worth it…

the stinging does not leave.

Sunday Morning Burns Me (summer 1996)

Let my brittle hands choke on faded ribbon scars and sadness

Hold this tired head up from the stems of my shaking body

Can you hear my burned lungs shiver as I breathe cold hate,

Can you feel my breaking skin scrape away from fingertips?

Nothing but flowers are born from ashes

And sand is helpless in an ocean wave,

crashing and flying above my head,

Rolling and crushing and scraping stone,

It hurts but nothing feels better

than the pain that visits me every day.

Sometimes my eyes are black and empty

Sometimes sadness holds me close to death

But nothing lives in my heart anymore;

no one loved me when I fell to the floor.

The Offspring of Abortion (summer 1996)

Let the fetus rise up above

the pale moon of a hunter’s prey

(fly high)

Let it wander down the halls

of a frayed mind,

I am the devil’s advocate,

I am this nightmare’s hope.

Can you see its clouded eyes,

its decaying brain

that could’ve been more

so much more

than endless guilt.

Now there’s an army-

strong and immortal-

ready to strike you down,

And all you can do is

Run from their un-lived lives.

Chaos (summer 1996)

I hated the purple flowers that grew around my heart

I had to kill them all,

I had to cut them down.

But now the space is so empty that I run forever

through the fields of yellow heads dying and red

looking for that hated color,

looking to fill this empty chaos.

I am just another guinea pig, another rat

with the symptoms of an epidemic

I am just a nobody knowing nothing

who opens up to take on misery.

Will you let me fall into chaos,

Will you let my heart go,

Will you leave me alone,

I’m strong enough to walk on my own.

I am strong enough to face death and live,

I am strong enough to understand chaos

Where nothing comes back and nothing cries.

Burn the Dress (summer 1996)

Hate those memories so old and gray

Hate the material as it faded

Nothing was ever right,

but there you were

Inside your broken skull

You were there, waiting,

Waiting for me

You held out your hand

And I screamed

You held out your arms

And I ran

through the doors of stars

through the streets of driving eyes

And I ran

like a frightened animal,

instinctively.

Looking down, the cliff was deserted and lonely;

I cried,

and I held out my arms for you.

from The Stinging Does Not Leave (1996)

You know it burns but you have to fight it,

The lights move closer and closer to numbness

Let the voices just take you away,

Let the faces rest in your mind.

Torn Hands (summer 1996)

Unimportant memories

show themselves to me

like an unending game.

They pop up again and again

like maddening jackals,

but their meanings are so far away.

Here in my mind the

nightmares form with torn hands,

and the broken flesh,

images make me insane.

Dark words turn over

capturing new colours,

but they always turn out

just the same.

Stenciled Hearts (summer 1996)

Broken strings and worn picks…

the ice doesn’t work

and my heart beats on towards

empty pyramids of bodies

that capture my dead eyes

and hold them still,

while eternity’s forever

writes itself into a corner.

I was only two

when an invader

stenciled a heart

onto me and

let the paint dry;

it was poison

and the image

has begun to fade.

from No More Wounds Just You and Me (9/17/96)

Dark windows open their eyes

and spit a figure’s shadow

into my unwanting mind.

I can’t turn away from

its haunting stare,

And even when it’s not there

the image destroys me.

Cover the Ground (1996)

My pale hand looks dead among the brightness

of the unliving snow, my head is alive but my

zombie eyes follow snow flakes as if they

were part of an unworthy machine.

Oh god, what a storm of pain…

immobilized, I focus on the sky

as tears appear and fall like ashes,

how should I know who’s burning at this minute?

Fire has such a menacing presence

in front of me and behind my eyes,

I know no more fear.

And so the ashes and snow and bodies

cover the ground

mixed with blood and tears;

humans know nothing of heartache

until they have watched lives die

a million times.

Calling (1997)

I hold her head up and try to quiet her pain

There’s nothing to do but listen to her tears fall,

and I must put my sadness behind me.

I see all kinds of conflicts behind her eyes,

none like mine,

but still threatening the delicate flame of life;

I listen to her cry,

feeling like I will break-

glass shattering upon the floor.

I hold her head up

while suffocating my tears;

I must put my sadness behind me.

There are complex answers for simple questions

some of which try to paralyze my mind,

digging in with sharpened teeth,

holding fast,

I cannot scream,

I cannot cry.

Still I hold her head up,

and listen to her tears fall.

Paralyzed (1997)

Another day of paralysis and

random thoughts

trying to find some energy

to breathe

staring into space

fear overwhelms me

can’t loosen my grip

can’t be called

back to reality

what a strange feeling-

when you can’t move

and thoughts are jumbled

and everything’s blurry

can’t remember much-

how much time fell,

I don’t know

Count out the columns of days

on your number chart

because I find it hard to care anymore.

October 1999

S(HE) wants to see me crushed

she wants to hear the bone splinter

he wants me to scream

A loud piercing scream that

echoes through her body and

sets them on fire…

S(HE) cuts me deeply.

from Paranoid (1999)

Today the paranoia set in,

haunting me like a tired ghost

I’m only afraid to die

because they will find my mind and cut it up,

They will crack my ribs open and find fear

embedded in a still heart.

Can You Understand Me (1999)

Can you/ every word cries/

the moonlight looks crazy/ far away yellow that never reaches me

face us and grow/ I am hate in your skull planning the next attack

Fire bled from my eyes/ I hear everything/ I know you are here

waiting for my heart

to close forever/ swallow down the birds/ dyslexic mind progressions

feed on nerves/ they are starving for dopamine/ white slice won’t off me

fast enough

I have been waiting all night for your lunacy cutting like silver moons

around us

lungs choke and say welcome back stranger/ I never had control

screaming shakes me/ what is me/ not this shell

just this hell they call conscious thought

do you feel that boy/ does that sting

pulling weeds from my head/ dead hairs one by one

I will be bald like the moon/ darkness so thick on my surface I smile to hide it

behind me is everything I could’ve picked up/ find my goddamn pulse/

where is my freaking pulse when I need it

I feel like I was born without a voice

living in the age of toxic pharmacology

exactly how many will it take to pull me in too deep

you are not god/ you are not dangerous/ you are a figment of my imagination

they didn’t have the words to save me/ you have no words to save me

remember that next time you take on the intensity of the moon/ it knows more than

I

am the one chosen to drown/ I’ll show you what you are missing

do you feel that boy/ does that sting

does it catch in your throat and drag on the flesh/ I am hooks in your

conscious flow

watch the bird tumble down to earth/ it takes a coward to

shoot down a dream

do you feel that girl/ does that sting

you found my vulnerability and you dug in deep

I am dragging up bile from your stomach with words

I can live a dream/ attack me

I want all pain to go away

go away daggers

go away you bitch in black go away mommy go away daddy go away

you hold your hand out to me and when we touch I am contagious

Lightning likes to strike the same place/ it roams the earth looking for that same place

I wish there was something someone could do

I am sinking thousands of feet in the cold blue waters of the moon

light

shadow

darkness

be still.

1999

The people who remember you are fading away

hold the day

murder

play it over in your mind til you get it right

Pain

play it over in your mind til you get it right

Rage

play it over in your mind

white teeth red with blood

white

teeth

white

chipping away at splintered bone

red with

blood

bone is so porous it soaks in my pain like a sponge

if you play it over

and

over

everything slows down

my mind has many circuit breakers

which one will switch off today?

It is never over (1999)

Cold inside my heart

This is not my body

These are not my scars

Cold inside their room

Please tell this child

It’ll be over soon.

Untitled (1999)

My heart does not hurt

in its greatness of faculties

exercised organ of bloody love

throughout my mangled frame flows

red

and purple for its royalties- life giving

plasma strolls these avenues

swims languidly pouring into

fleshy caverns,

a cut, a soft abrasion

my blood escapes- freedom from

these oppressive threads.

4/20 (May 2000)

On the twentieth day of April the skies opened up

And flooded me with pain

poisoned and lost I crept closer to unconsciousness

A stomach full of charcoal brought me to the floor

Vomiting the darkness in my heart

Foul liquid gave me another life

It is May and the sky still cries all my tears

It’s May and I’m throwing my second chance away

on too many trips, too many hits

I’m flying in a car faster than my body comprehends

Nothing hurts because I am dead

A week ago he broke into my apartment

I saw the face of evil through the haze

I saw them all behind my eyes

Loneliness crawled into my heart

It stopped the beat, it’s here to stay

How do you explain death to the living

It is everything still, dark, and empty

It is everything that is nothing

It’s May and there’s another birthday lying in wait

What is there to celebrate?

This disconnected shell, this product of death?

Another year of being stuck here,

far away but visible,

An obvious ghost in limbo, a crackpot, a joke,

Life’s ode to death

I open my mouth to scream.

Mindless Masses (2/3/04)

When I write

the whole world disappears,

all pain is forgotten, and

I am left with only

pen and paper,

subconscious thoughts fighting, straining

to be heard among the

deafening roar of everyday

Nothingness

I am empty until the black ink flows,

a shell of a being,

blending in silently

among the masses of

mindless figures twisting and screaming,

such a faceless mob

of muted voices

dreams devastated

by the permanent grip of time,

silence watching over all of us,

those who must be heard,

those who strive to leave a

memorable mark in life,

fighting their fears of disappearing

into dust, unheard and voiceless.

When I write,

time slips away

The burning white hot light of the sun

and the cold, stern moon glow

contributes nothing to the interruption

of the stumbling procession of words.

No longer here (2004)

Side streets littered with lost souls,

needles in a haystack, a Monet painting,

sunset diving down,

crashing into the boundary between earth and sky,

following our footsteps as we walk the line

of the horizon.

We understand the darkness

We see it all, together,

Hearing her yelling in between the notes of the music,

those milliseconds

where our lives hang on in silence,

our minds struggling,

part of being human,

putting up a good fight in vain,

mirrors closing in on us

who can explain the way we cry

or why

everything is so backwards

Cold chill, my heart shudders,

trapped in a deadly dance,

the black and white arachnids

like sunspots behind closed eyelids,

a cigarette, a beer, green glass,

resin stains distorting my concept of time

Side streets littered with truth,

discarded because

no one cares anymore,

there are a million of us with tarnished souls

green like an old penny,

chasing another plane of existence

a place where light beams radiate from our fingers

and everything we touch turns to gold;

a million with black hearts,

cold stony glances,

locked away in a distant world,

every nerve calm and warm

like the two hours after a burn finally cools,

and the blood begins to flow freely

Today is the day I realized

that we are no longer here,

that these shells do not contain us,

dull drugs and a lifetime of disappointments,

sweating and shaking and

expelled from a private high,

a lifetime of measuring everything up to that moment,

the peak of greatness, the mythological mystery,

where suffering does not exist,

time to forget, to give it all up

to the feverish moon,

perspiring like a cold glass of water

in a hot kitchen

dizzy from the sickly heat, I dance on the sun

’til it goes down again,

swimming behind my torn eyes.

bloodshot (2005)

tonight we are still, another calm summer evening

the air hangs over us, thick with humidity, drawing tar from

our charred lungs, nothing is moving,

the woods are quiet, we dare not breathe,

tonight she is held down, a

childlike figure, helpless hostage,

drifting slowly in her mind

like the leaves she saw outside, in the sun,

the ones he explained were Aspen,

as he walked with her through the garden,

and now she sees them, lost in their mechanical sway,

the wind, power over their movement,

she’s fighting for air and equilibrium,

like all unbalanced things, youthful innocence,

i-think-therefore-i-am bullshit, she thinks she is somewhere

inside the inner eye of storms,

watching hope die, like the slow flicker of the light outside my door

telling moths to go home, the party’s over,

hypnotic dance, leaves calling, no-named child,

mind-over-matter, but where’s the ground? Inevitably, she’s

giving up, no more movements resembling life,

and the leaves are still-

as if the wind had dissipated, denying flight,

too tired to try, she is overpowered, a hurricane of force,

breathing water, letting it fill her,

seeing trees instead of monsters, who cares what’s real

floating calmly now,

no more fighting,

no need to breathe,

blue eyes bloodshot.

eyes (2005)

sometimes, when every day is that same day,

years gone unnoticed,

when the air is dead and the leaves are still,

after she came back to life,

just to cast off confusion, cut out sound,

becoming the trees that have unknowingly fallen,

she would lie under water,

just below the surface

to remember her calm death,

to shut out the loud vicious roar

of her world,

childlike, rag doll, no-named ghost,

floating in the bathtub, the water red with bloodshot eyes,

she lies,

just below the line, the meeting of water and air, boundaries like the rings of Saturn

running circles around circles behind her eyes,

seeing nothing but leaves dancing, swaying, then dead in the air,

oxygen she need not breathe again.

Untitled (2006)

Knives/ suicide/ blood/ torn/ racing/ thoughts/ ice/ cold/ ropes/ listen/ trees/ stars/ dead/ leaves/ moon/ animals/ pieces/ wooden/ stakes/ heads/ decapitated/ stare/ wide/ eyes/ opened/ I/ am/ opened/ gutted/ screaming/ bleeding/ lost/ digging/ ditches/ somewhere/ help/ me/ help/ her/ she/ cries/ eyes/ covered/ faces/ eyes/ can’t/ move/ hands/ wrists/ arms/ legs/ ankles/ burning/ numb/ dead/ listen/ fire/ and/ laughter/ drowning/ can’t/ move/ cut/ me/ eyes/ roll/ towards/ cracked/ skulls/ buried/ suffocating/ restless/ death/ walk/ into/ fire/ gagged/ insane/ wandering/ floating/ grounded/ watching/ hating/ one/ day/ gonna/ die/ young/ DIE/ now.

It Won’t Stop (2018)

Butterflies all around me

And I can’t breathe,

I missed spring and most of summer,

The storms roll in,

Tornado warnings,

It rains in my mind,

Trying to drown out the screaming

Blood and nylon ropes,

Darkness invades behind my eyes,

No I won’t move,

Something calming about death,

Something peaceful about giving up

A little girl struggles

against the inevitable end,

a rush of blood to her head,

The the calm roar of the dead,

They move in, paralysis and poison,

like crows on a carcass

they tear her apart.

Rot (7/29/18)

It’s like being buried alive

All you see is darkness

The air is heavy and hot

It starts to disappear

The dirt piles up

And you are alone

Why try to fight

Claw at your coffin

break off your nails

Bleed and dream

Embrace the sleep

Forget and rot.

Sail Away (2018)

I’ve died a thousand times

darkness rolls in

my old friend

relief

You lose a piece of yourself

every time it takes you

Nothing but a ghost now

pale and empty

White knuckles holding on

so tight to life

It all slips away

Floats away

out to sea

sailing now

out of harms way

gray waves crash

letting go again

waiting for relief.

Stone Soldier (2018)

He likes when you fight. He can break you.

He likes when you struggle. He enjoys your pain.

So you learn to show no fear. Float away.

You stop fighting. Accept.

You stop moving. Death.

No signs of life

eyes roll back

slow beat of time

pain like lightning

far away it strikes

you feel nothing

no more pain. Dead inside.

Stronger than him. Even in pieces.

Hangman (8/9/18)

Calm rage,

stoic, holding back,

inner fires of anger and pain

I feel nothing

and then everything

fighting to breathe

ropes tighten

pull me apart

limb by limb

hang me out to dry

let the blood

drip, drip

onto the cement

pool of red

dry and still

I hang here.

Pieces of Me (8/21/18)

Right now write now

because your life depends on it

Noose hanging by your side

smiling wide, grin like the moon

when it’s full and cutting lines

bright and awake for days

And in the haze you see their shapes

horror shows play, don’t rewind the tapes

playing it back rips through my brain

All I hear is love and hate and

by now it’s coming down to pain

Hate rakes thought me and blood runs freely

Stuck in that room in the dark in my heart

Stuck in that tub with the blood

that never stops running even when

I’m humming my kid a lullaby

Bye cruel world

But there’s this little girl

And so I hang my head

without a noose

And run in fear, my mind wrecked

shell shocked, ripped open

trying to pick up the

pieces of me.

No Words (8/22/18)

Wash it all away

blood

so much blood

doesn’t stop

something’s wrong

And the pain

your insides on the outside

wash it all away

There’s death here

everywhere

Staring at the colour

of loss

Staring at the drain

I am open and empty

wash away my heart

red rivers run

Nothing left of me

You took it all today.

Rotten (3/22/19)

It’s all black and red again

Out of my mind, in time to see it dry

Inside this still heart I find it quiet

Listening to nothingness for days

Rip me apart and bury the pieces

Frayed at the seams and fade into

silence like lessons you never should’ve learned

It’s the twilight hour and they grow restless,

Clawing at their coffins and climbing to the surface,

Staggering like ghouls, they haunt me,

Their words in my mind, their eyes stare,

Fighting them back but I still hear their screams

Lost souls, trapped when the storm rolls in,

Fog and wet leaves, the damp smell of death,

Snap of the neck and blood on the grass

Crack in the bone, fractured and crushed

For him it’s a rush, for them it is hell

Helpless and frozen, it’s never over

Zombies that walk and burn in fire,

We’re so tired, this life is wrong,

We just don’t belong.

Hunter (3/22/19)

Shards of glass

tossed about

in ocean waves

Smoothed edges

some left jagged

spit onto the shore

buried in seaweed

lost in the sand

Ravens not seagulls

Moon shines brightly

its bald eye blotchy

restless fingers search

reaching through the

pieces of me

raking like claws

digging into my brain

I see blood again

lifeless bodies float

tossed about

in ocean waves

Untitled (May 2019)

Ravaging rows of singing nights

Into the lucky abyss

Darkness erodes the days

Rotting and falling to pieces

Bloody skies in my mind

Tornado pieces of chaos swirling around

underground or underwater

light and sound get caught and

sometimes slowed

They took the pain for us,

buried now surrounded by earth

red death and quiet eyes

They don’t stop, they never stop

Until we suffocate,

Faced with sunsets and ropes

Running from them

Forever.

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