Strangled

Strangled by the threads of expectation

pushed on one’s self 

until they are choking

unable to articulate their screams,

because today nobody cares.

Pushed into the rubber room,

walls plush with velvet padding

tormented screams rent the air

as demons play games.

Games of love, 

only to be shown that love is not for them.

Games of torture,

voices grinding in their ears

until they can take it no more.

Strangled by the threads of expectation

unable to bear 

this less than perfect image.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

December 31/17

Welcome to Hell

It hurts my heart.

An ice cold hand

reaching between my ribs

squeezing,

crushing,

bruising;

and with a taut snap

rips free

the abscessed soul

plagued with hell spawn.

Savage teeth bared

ripping and tearing

at phantom viscera

gorging on putrid flesh

steeped and soaked in sin.

Wracked with guilt

tortured with the profane

I crawl forward,

my hand reaching out

grasping for shattered glass

ready

to plunge it into my breast.

To end this streaming vile

spewing of sensationalized news.

Snarls and roars fill the arena

as demons prepare to roast

the humans who feed their hunger

on the here and now

with no thought to the future.

Pain paralyzes my body

I can go on no longer

I am lost to the hoards

to the vast crowds

who stream through the entrance to hell

complacent in their own corruption.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

November 23/17

Days & Nights

There are days when I can walk free.
Days when I can feel the sunlight on my skin.
Days when I no longer wear sorrow
as a garment of my mourning.
Days where sunlight dapples the leaves.
Honeysuckle in the air.
The heat a lover’s caress
as I am able to pretend
yet again,
that you had not left me.
Days where our favorite song erupts from every station
where the scent of your cologne
permeates the air,
the water,
my very being
and I cannot break free.
Nights where I can fall to slumber.
Morpheus barely needs to draw
the line from my soul to my dreams
as he guides my fantasies along.
Nights where the thunder roars.
Rain slashing the window pane.
When the rage,
red and black,
filled me with terror.
There are memories
stored deep in the black of my mind.
Ones that I shan’t access
for should I;
my ability to wake, to live, to be,
would be as dead as you are to me.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
November 21/17

Chained

I know it is so hard to hear

that I am doing just fine

without you in my life.

That no longer do tears fly

as I sort through these memories

that you always scorned.

I know that this fact

is going to scorch your ego

as you see me reaching high

never again to be dreamless.

I found the curving pathway,

the spiral staircase 

I need to climb

so I can again find joy.

No more will I be enslaved,

powerless beneath your gaze.

I shall fly high 

on the currents above

dipping and soaring with glee

nevermore to be chained at your feet.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Nov. 10/17

Chained

I know it is so hard to hear

that I am doing just fine

without you in my life.

That no longer do tears fly

as I sort through these memories

that you always scorned.

I know that this fact

is going to scorch your ego

as you see me reaching high

never again to be dreamless.

I found the curving pathway,

the spiral staircase 

I need to climb

so I can again find joy.

No more will I be enslaved,

powerless beneath your gaze.

I shall fly high 

on the currents above

dipping and soaring with glee

nevermore to be chained at your feet.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Nov. 10/17

Love gone awry

Sometimes I go a little crazy
a wee bit mad
making all my castles
with quicksand.
Sometimes I dance little jigs
and you cannot see
where once there was harmony
now we have strife.
Angry words disposed to bite
left me nothing to do
but cry bitter tears
and feel ashes in my mouth.
I have loved you
and hated you.
I have cursed your name
for the damaged touch
while you played your game.
Living beneath a cloud of darkness
wrapped in a shroud of pain
I yearn for the bright sunlight
yet walk alone trapped in anguish
unable to break away.
©Jay-Lyn Doerksen
September 12/17

Sidling Shadows

She moves like a languid lynx

slinking across glass littered alleys

tacky with the tears

of so many shattered dreams.

Hard and heartless, she has closed down

using her body as a commodity.

To survive, to entrap, to getting what she wants.

Unsure that even she knows.

Men made her this way.

From a father who held her too dear

to a brother she fought with fear.

From boyfriend to boyfriend

each one always the same…..

It was only the faces and bodies

that changed.

Women too had a hand here.

A mother who turned from her tears

to a sister who could only feel relief.

From girlfriend to girlfriend

relationships found growing in rocky graves

mistrust and jealousy….

It was only the clothes and hair

that changed.

No time for tears.

No time for love.

No time for comfort.

Delving into the underbelly

schooled in trash

she moves like a languid lynx

sidling through the shadows.

Your worst dream.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

August 10/17