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
into my brain
knife in my side
save me please
grinning walls of pain
are all I see
They don’t need me
This black smoke
Tied to a wall
Knife in my side
into my brain
I deserve it all-
all this pain
in the devil’s hall
I’m a devil, all
I do is scream
all I can do
is breathe in
full of black,
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 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.
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
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
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
Let me go, let me fade
into the darkness, the only
thing I can see,
turn away and tend to your other
screaming for salvation.
You cannot kill me.
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,
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
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
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.
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
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,
Looking down, the cliff was deserted and lonely;
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)
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.
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,
I cannot scream,
I cannot cry.
Still I hold her head up,
and listen to her tears fall.
Another day of paralysis and
trying to find some energy
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.
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
I have been waiting all night for your lunacy cutting like silver moons
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
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
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
The people who remember you are fading away
hold the day
play it over in your mind til you get it right
play it over in your mind til you get it right
play it over in your mind
white teeth red with blood
chipping away at splintered bone
bone is so porous it soaks in my pain like a sponge
if you play it 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.
My heart does not hurt
in its greatness of faculties
exercised organ of bloody love
throughout my mangled frame flows
and purple for its royalties- life giving
plasma strolls these avenues
swims languidly pouring into
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
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
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,
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
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,
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.
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.
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,
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.
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,
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.
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
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
out to sea
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.
stoic, holding back,
inner fires of anger and pain
I feel nothing
and then everything
fighting to breathe
pull me apart
limb by limb
hang me out to dry
let the blood
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
so much blood
And the pain
your insides on the outside
wash it all away
There’s death here
Staring at the colour
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.
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.
Shards of glass
in ocean waves
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
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
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