The Hole

I am empty.

I am an endless hole, out of control, mind on parole and a wandering soul, life took its toll and now I’m enrolled in a bowl of hot mess and distressing pests of demands, commanding me to stand when I want to fall, when I’m feeling too small to be tall.  After all, I can’t articulate what I’m feeling when I’m dealing with a war, so my body keeps the score as I’m torn apart every day and night, fighting for the will to keep up with life and live in light.  I’m so stuck in the dark, it’s hard to see who I can be if I were free from this degree of blackness, a madness so insane to practice, a hole so deep you could sleep for days, contemplating ways to stay away from the grey that fills your day, what a way to say I don’t care, life’s not fair, I won’t dare to spare myself the words that it would take to claim my mistake of making my life this way, but what can I say to make the pain go away?  To make the skies less grey?  To bring light to my day when even the sun is dark like a work of monochrome art in the sky?  Why can’t I just be alive?  I feel like an endless hole, barely there but out of control.  I am empty.

Image

I didn’t know who she was, but I’d never seen someone so complex,

dancing around reality in a long black dress, she seemed unimpressed

with the rest of the best, undressing the idea of expressing

her desires and needs, but please, don’t let them see the

scars under her sleeves, bleeding her serenity on the bed of her insanity,

a calamity of the girl in the mirror, staring her down in hopes to disappear her,

she looked me in the eye and I met myself for the first time.

 

Bipolar Rainbows

Tip-toeing around temptation

every moment’s a revelation, a sensation

of euphoria and glory to floor me

once it’s over and I fall over into a hole,

the bipolar controller has been stolen

from my grasp, and at last

I’m in the dark without my heart, torn apart

from the highs and lows. Everyone knows

there’s no such thing as rainbows.

Decay

I was thinking of grabbing the eraser,

smearing around the words on this paper

and throwing away all the hard work that I’d slaved over,

beaten myself into a grave over

because my time can’t be erased

through time and space I’ve traced a dotted line,

one that you’ll follow and come to find

yourself back where you started,

for I departed where

I came

to the conclusion

that happiness must be an illusion,

an overzealous philosophy

of what we’d all like to achieve but we cannot have,

for it is not a constant anyway,

floating away on a rainy day,

watch it all decay.

Lost


I closed my eyes

And a storm brewed quietly,

as I concentrated on why I’m here and where I’m going. 

Then, without knowing, I looked up and there the sun was showing,

Speaking to me through rays of hope and direction,

A secure connection to the sky. 

And now I know why;

I know where,

But at its rays I cannot stare

For the glare may blind my vision of the truth as the sun sets,

and I discover the youth of the night is not so frightening 

when lightning illuminates the sky in a cry of thunder. 

It’s no wonder I couldn’t find peace in sleep, 

because I dreamt too deeply. 

And now, as I sit beneath the sun, I am no longer lost; 

I am finding out how to end a beginning 

as the glorious sun paints a picture worth envisioning. 

Escape

Words flying off a keyboard 

in swift fluid motion, 

colder than snow 

and steeper than the ocean, 

a promotion from reality, 

rather, 

insanity, 

as I breathe in and out on a cloud, 

floating above a fantasy so loud it is silent, 

leaving behind a thought of violent nature, 

indeed, 

it is this freedom that I dream of, 

relieving me of the go-and-hurry race of this place, 

where I can’t keep up with the pace 

of my own thoughts, 

and I thought I’d thought of all the ways to run, 

but none of the options seemed very fun, 

I’m still trying to be number one,

but I’m done. 

No one can escape the race 

without their face being erased from the planet,

so if you need an escape 

then there you have it, 

grab it and go as fast as you can,

I’ll meet you back here 

in runaway land. 

Grief

Standing in the shadow that’s left of you, I wish I knew

I wish I knew what I could do to save you

I wish I knew the secret ingredient to your happiness

I wish I knew what went on underneath the surface,

inside your mysterious mind… what would I find?

But I didn’t know.

And everything I did know has done me no good

because it did not serve any purpose in the end.

My friend, I am pretending to be okay

when in fact my heart is hurting

as I’m learning, once again, how difficult it is

to say goodbye.

 

Process

Who would have thought that 4:30 AM would be calling my name,

awakening me from a sleep filled with visions of a bloody horror lying unconscious on the floor.

Who would have thought that tears would flow freely at the memory of what happened a while back, but what seems like two minutes past.

Who would have thought that I’d have little progress on processing a horrific reality that is mine, stumbling through the time it takes to “get over it” and “move on.”

I am still on the floor, cleaning up the blood,

I am still drying tears and clearing up the flood.

I am still processing, and that’s okay.

I am only human, and today is another day.