Lost in the malestorm
sucked down the eddy
braving bleak thoughts
seeking always that peace.
Knowing that there will be a day;
when the pain,
will no longer be in control.
Days when I shall see the sunshine,
hear my own laughter
and not be crippled
by anxiety and depression.
Those are the goods days.
The ones I cling to.
For when that blackness enshrouds;
I remember that there
will always be
a better day coming back to me.
I walk through the greying mists
seeing vague shapes
to the right and left of me.
But when I call out
my voice becomes a mere whisper,
slighter than the flutter,
of a Monarch’s wings.
My tears are but shards of silver
pecking away at my heart
Uncovering hidden losses
and the pain I try to hide.
One day there may be comfort.
One day I may be free.
But until that day I shall fight,
to come back from the albatross
that hangs around my neck.
I went for a walk and saw beauty in the bleak desolation of an empty beach and pier that only the day before teemed with life. And though the wind nearly blew me over I found myself drawn to the roaring waves and wind sculpted sand. I needed to take these pictures.
I always wanted to paint but lack the talent to take what I see in my mind and bring it to life on paper. Now I have the ability to take the pictures that draw me in and edit via my phone. This is just the start.
Razor thin lacerations caused by silver shards of rage
black and bleak, thunderstorms boil overhead.
Lightening pierces the evening sky, wordless pain and triumph
yet still I lay here, unable to care.
Bruised and battered is my soul;
broken and shattered is my heart;
If only you had beaten me;
the words you spewed would not reach me.
A thrashing I could have taken.
Bruises and blood fade to remembrance
broken bones can be set and healed
Angry words spoken
leave a chink in the armor I wear.
I cried tears of anger and despair
I cried tears of blood and mayham
I cried tears…..I cried tears…..tears