Rending

Locked in my mind
vicious voice
rending my soul
my belief
in self.
Denouncing the strength
the knowledge
riding over affirmations
burying them in the cemetary dark.
I am lost
I am tired
I am afraid
to look down this road once more.
My knees shatter
I offer up beseechment
leave me alone this time
I won’t fight the next.
Thick mimosia
clinging
wrapping
entangling
knock me from my feet
blood flows
tears collapse
as I shudder beneath.
You silly bitch
hissing voices scream
you have no control 
you have no ability
to rid yourself of me.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
July 18/18
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Soulless

Look into the maw
gleaming blackness
shrouding your fear.
See the ghost gliding
walking forward
silent feet.
Faces flash
one after the other
nightmares of your past.
Open your mouth to scream
to denounce the burden
when it jumps.
On your back
blinking
the ghost
nay a demon true
hunkers on your chest
and inhales.
Long deep breath
feel a shifting
a tear at your heart.
Lone crystal
trickles down curved cheek
as the soulless
devours your soul
alive for a brief moment
leaving you dead within.
Jay-lyn Doerksen
July 10/18

Worthless

Why?
Why do you
why do I
believe that we are not worthy?
Worthy
Of love
of happiness
of kindness by others.
We shun
spurn
destroy
rather than allow others close.
Easier
to not feel
to act the fool
shy behind a confident mask.
Tears
falling drop drop
head turned aside
ignoring the gnawing pain
that resides deep in out hearts.
Trust
reaching out
admitting need
want to be held
struggling to find the words.
Why?
I want to be found worthy.
I want to be found to love.
I want the happiness

that should be mine.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

July 9/18

Nothingness

Tears seep
tracing the curve of my cheek
trailing
salty kisses on my lips
pondering
why I feel this way?
Nothing wrong
no sense of impending doom
imagination
spiraling out of control
when I know
I may have pushed too far?
Overstepping
infamous for I am
reading too much
into too little
building my fairy tales
only to knock them down.
Self destruction.
I am not crazy.
I am not insane
even though I portray myself this way.
Easier to hide
behind a sinister mask
than brimming with bright smiles
allowing the hurt
to become a dull throb
one I cannot placate.
Never crumble
never fall
ideas ingrained in my mind
not worth it
undeserving
voices playing over and over again.
Happiness
ever fleeting
skims through my life
touching lightly
only to bounce off
leaving me bereft
clutching at faded memories
of time we spent.
Hopelessness
sadness
raging pain
loss
fear
the emotions I live with
every day.
Does it get better?
Does it ever end?
This feeling of……
nothingness.
©Jay-lyn Doerkson
July 8/18

Within

I once was lost

yet now I am found

for within

a strength resides.

Blackness has reigned

demons gorging

breeding

upon my self-consciousness.

Death grip strangles

tears fall unchecked

abyss at my toes;

heart in tatters

where do I go?

From within

determination.

From within

love.

From within

confidence.

From within

dreams to be followed.

What I sought

has been found

Independence is mine.

Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash

I am a Queen

Trying out this new thing;
Called Adulting.
I seem to have grown once more
without even realizing it.
No longer do I feel worthless
no longer do I feel alone
no longer do I speak to myself
degrading
causing panic dear.
Oh yes
the blackest voice is there
whispering
hissing
making me doubt….
myself….
my abilities….
me.
Countered with
a litney of good:
Funny
Smart
Beautiful
Independent
words to some
lifelines
to keep me sane.
I stand
the pier soaked beneath my feet
deep cleansing
breath in breath out….
Golden Girl.
Golden Queen.
Golden Princess
no more.
Queen of my life
Queen of my destiny
Queen of my confidence.
Queen of my Soul.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
July 2/18
Photo by Matthew Brodeur on Unsplash

Dark Voice

Do you wonder
what it is like?
Would you care to know?
What it is like:
A sullen voice
whispers in your ear
telling you
exactly why
they do not like you.
No matter
how many times
you recite
affirmations
knowing exactly
what you bring to the table.
It hisses diatribe
digs beneath
rending mended scars.
Yet nothing can be worse
than admitting
that the voice you hear
is the one with which you speak.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
June 26/18