Untitled Poem

I hear you.
Voices
whispering in my ear
taunting
disturbing
the aura
surrounding me.
Vicious.
I cringe
tongue lashing
striking
finding chinks in the armor.
I try so hard
not to scream in defeat.
Nails
talons
hook my soul
pulling forth
wraiths
dancing with the devil
tears shatter on my cheeks.
Bereaved
on my knees
unable to forget
head bent
submission
why oh god
why
can I not obliterate
the memories that I carry.
Prostrate
I lay upon the alter
blooded laments
anger stirring
rage
consuming.
Wanting nothing more
than to dismiss….
fear
pain
doubt
conjuring….
strength
time
belief.
I struggle to my knees.
Supplicant
hands raised
forehead bent
touching the cobbles
I cannot abate
let loose
fall free
of the person I am to be.
November 3/18
Photo by Eric Ward on Unsplash
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Plain Jane-Broken Down

***Continuation of Story poem. Previous poems are in order here:
She did it to me again.
Always
with the leaving me entrails
destruction
things I must clean up.
I am the one pummeled
cold baths
shock therapy
increased drugs
increased watching of the patient
never allowing me a chance
to unfold.
If I am locked like this
drugs
cuffs
complacent
how ever will she reappear?
Until court
when I must answer for bloodshed
for death
that I did not cause
I will be sedated.
Badass Jane
she is writhing on the leash
wanting to come out
to play
to protect
to get her revenge.
Sept. 7/18

Return from Hell

Abandon hope all ye who enter here.’
Steep steps
chiseled
hewn from black stone
back lit a flaming red
globs of lava thrown about
while demons howl
not with shame
not with fear
with blood lust
as the hunger bleeds through.
Crawling downward
ever downward
each level passing
as I search within the gloom
there is one I want
one I will kill
for all the pain
all the anguish he has caused.
At my back
demons scream
throwing bolts of flame
illuminating the darkness before me
I grimace
scorched by fire
but revenge shall be mine.
Finally the one I seek appears
bolted to the wall
fear
pain
sadness
soaking through my desire
my need
my retribution
I squint with fear.
In lowering myself
in giving in
to satisfaction that will be felt
I demean
I debase
the marrow of my being.
I draw myself up
strength returning
I look him in the eye
‘There shall never more be hope
I release you to Satan’s care.’
Head thrown back
he screams in terror
seeing the disjointed maws
black
salivating
thick gobs of spit
spun out as ropes
further tying him to the wall.
Stand aside
watch the horde rush in
my hands
clean they will remain
as I climb back up the stairs.
Aug. 19/18

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

Within the Darkness

These shackles I wear

they are of my own design.

The lashes against my back,

the hair shirt I wear,

the loop of disdaining voice

played over and over

eroding my faith.

This addiction I feed

this need to sedate

comes solely from a desire to be;

to not feel,

to not face,

the imperfections of my heart.

There is no relief

only brief interludes

where sanity does reign,

but when the darkness falls

and my tears begin,

my soul has already become undone.

Cycles of love and laughter;

pain and fear,

depression and happiness;

they blow through this life,

and some days I am good

and some days I am not.

Within this all,

one emotion remains true.

I am brave

and though oh so scared,

I will rend this curtain

this veil that I wear

and I will find sunlight 

within the dark.

Jay-lyn Doerksen

December 25/17

Grim Reaper

The Grim Reaper we fear

creeping through the night

phantom of our dreams.

He is not the one

we should watch for,

no,

but the predator on the streets….

He stalks and whirls

encased in black

shadows are his home.

Creeping and crawling

into our hearts

bleeding dry our bones.

Living on our fears and hatred

gorging on all our despair.

He mocks and sidles

not even trying to repair

but dividing and punishing

all the good people here.

Believing he is a demi-god

master of all

bowing to no one.

Captain of his fallacy

chartering a path to hell

to confront the Grim Reaper

and challenge him for his crown.

Jay-lyn Doerksen

©Dec. 1/17

A Child, A Mother, An Addict

Displaced, 

tears crystallizing on my face

I claw and I scratch

my heart burns with regret.

I am helpless in your embrace.

A lover’s cold arms.

Holding,

cradling my soul in disgrace

talons finding chinks in the armor

that I wear to protect my heart.

You eat away,

eroding the foundation,

the very truth of myself.

Calling forth the beast within

making me confront myself.

Mirror image

a horror to be seen.

A sneer,

a snarl,

lips curled in defense

I raise my hand and shatter the glass.

Mirror mirror

an image I can’t compete

a child, a mother, an addict

a soul withering in her embrace.

© Jay-lyn Doerksen

1/27/16

***Another poem from 2016 that I love