Untitled Poem #8

There is a lump in my throat
panic filling my body.
I cannot breathe.
Were you to see me
you would never know
the thoughts rearing through my head.
There was no good morning.
No hello.
No good night.
Immediately that voice
sneering with derision
begins to babble in my ear
how I could have fucked up
between last night
this morning
this afternoon?
(when has it every worked?)
I close my eyes
to erase
to cease
to freeze
the voices inside my head.
Deep breathe.
Neither help
to collapse the pit
forming in my stomach.
Logically
I do know that I am a fool.
Emotionally
the voice hisses
reaping
gorging
breeding
on my fear
my worries
my tears
self-doubt making me crawl
within my own skin.
I remain quiet
not wanting you to know
suffering the dark voices
tears slowly seeping
from the corner of my eyes.
***I originally wrote this September 6/18.
I reworked it today to include the Word of the Day Challenge
Dubious.***
Photo by MMPR on Unsplash
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Massacre

I hate you.
Seriously hate you.
As I sit in my my car
weeping
screaming inside my head
for you to shut the fuck up!
I cannot take it
not much longer
why can I not be allowed
this happiness?
Why must you dig in
claws crooked
shredding
tearing
massacring
me?
Locked within these black walls
cavernous
lost
scared to move
tentative steps
hands stretched out
afraid of what is in front of me.
Hear the scrabble
tiny claws
skittering towards me
giggles
echo around me
nails on a chalkboard.
Surrounded
tiny imps
all wearing my face
pointing
ascending
digging beneath my skin
ripping at my heart
until
there is nothing left.
Just me
staring blankly at these four walls
entrapped in insanity.
November 14/18

Untitled Poem #4

Pacing
nails bitten to the quick
waiting
dreading
the words that he will speak.
Heart is racing
can feel the blood in my ears
pounding in my head
I am dizzy
I am aware
I am afraid.
Though I have been flippant
making jokes
deflecting questions
with questions of my own
I have cried
I have screamed
I know that I did this to myself.
Years and years
of abuse
of pills
of anything that would numb
it had to catch up to me eventually.
Truth be told
today is the day
when finally I can admit
to more tears
to more fears
than jokes
and quick witted remarks.
Nov. 5/18
Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash

Chaos

Chaos.
Beautiful colors
gold
mauve
crimson
dance around my arching body.
Weaving my fingers
colored trendles pulled near
I make a tether
a leash
to keep me close
to Chaos.
With Chaos
I find reason
I find understanding
I find truth.
With Chaos
I cry
I rage
I forgive.
Chaos
rainbow colors
twisting
tying
pulling me close.
A lover of color and light.
Sept. 29/18
Photo by Petra Brýdlová on Unsplash

Subvert

**I submitted two poems to The New Yorker. This is one of the two. I obviously was rejected but I can say with pride I was rejected by The New Yorker.***
There is an evil rot within
leaching from the heart
any illusion
that there remains some good.
Time and time again
it has been proven
that society has become doomed
trading away
ethics
morals
basic humanity.
Twisting and subverting
with each falsehood told
embraced
with zeal
religious fevor
becoming the very demon
decried as the enemy.
We have failed.
We have lost our way.
One by one
we have been corrupted
by lies
by slight of hand
and the tears that are wept
fall between the cracks
in this desert land.
©Feb. 23/18
Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

Silver Tears

Everyone thought that they knew her.
Her story
her beginnings
her middle
but none dreamed of her end.
A beauty
like Helen of Troy
men at her feet
showering her in adoration
jewels
money
yet never love.
Slate grey sky
matching stormy eyes
if only they knew
if only they had paid attention
if only she had told them.
Wretched blackness
clings to her soul
reminding her of the past
the abuse
the agony
but on her lips
an enigmatic smile plays
dazzling her lovers.
Under moonlit sky
she wept
silver tears of pain.
Oct. 5/18
Photo by Blake Cheek on Unsplash

Believe

Broken
I decided that I could take no more
allow no one any closer
for I could no longer
take the pain.
Torment
heartache
tears
so so many tears
that allowed me no release
from my broken past.
Than you.
You took my hand
you took my lips
you took my entirety
finding a place in my life.
not always wearing a cape
not always rushing into danger
can be that one person
who makes you believe again.
Sept. 11/18
Photo by TK Hammonds on Unsplash