moon_lite - Hello Poetry

When dawn descends into dusk I am caught in moonlight clutches claws digging deep into ever so suggestible flesh — like the werewolves I see while sitting on my porch basking in the days last puffs of smoke. I similarly am going up in plumes of carcinogenic madness, brain ravaged with thoughts of aliens coming to steal me away — thieves in the night. Such is this twisted tango danced, with the familiarity of lovers interwoven in my brain — tarnished neurons, friendly fire dopamine, spilling over into visions — but not the kinds of sugar plums. no, this fruit is rotten; bearing gnashing teeth, breathing fire. But this phoenix will rise from ash from the remains of deluded thought of broken tongue words misplaced and slithering figures in peripheral vision with their monochromatic hue I will be rainbow reborn, the full spectrum anew, because every storm will pass — and I will not be beaten.

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Dec 10, 2023

Dec 10, 2023 at 1:51 PM UTC

managing my mania

When dawn descends into dusk I am caught in moonlight clutches claws digging deep into ever so suggestible flesh — like the werewolves I see while sitting on my porch basking in the days last puffs of smoke. I similarly am going up in plumes of carcinogenic madness, brain ravaged with thoughts of aliens coming to steal me away — thieves in the night. Such is this twisted tango danced, with the familiarity of lovers interwoven in my brain — tarnished neurons, friendly fire dopamine, spilling over into visions — but not the kinds of sugar plums. no, this fruit is rotten; bearing gnashing teeth, breathing fire. But this phoenix will rise from ash from the remains of deluded thought of broken tongue words misplaced and slithering figures in peripheral vision with their monochromatic hue I will be rainbow reborn, the full spectrum anew, because every storm will pass — and I will not be beaten.

36

Mother Gaia is crying Her tears kiss my skin as I pollute my lungs on the porch in a T shirt She should be twirling this time of year all white-flake wonder-eyes fierce, cold unapologetic skies but we’ve been polluting Her lungs for years and so She cries — warm, December rain while I smoke on my porch in a t shirt

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Dec 10, 2023

Dec 10, 2023 at 1:21 PM UTC

warm december tears

Mother Gaia is crying Her tears kiss my skin as I pollute my lungs on the porch in a T shirt She should be twirling this time of year all white-flake wonder-eyes fierce, cold unapologetic skies but we’ve been polluting Her lungs for years and so She cries — warm, December rain while I smoke on my porch in a t shirt

17

I feel your departure in thoughts of alien abductions stolen away in the night leaving nothing but the lingering puffs of smoke from my last cigarette in slinking shadows — white ghostly figures just out of reach like the days last rays of sunshine as the sun goes down my sanity bleeds. each month, we dance this haunted tango just me and my 3000 dollar tourniquet against the world enough money in my deltoid to pay the rent today, I’ll be too tired to leave my bed but in a few weeks I won’t be able to sleep till golden rays filter in through window blinds finding my solace in sunbeams when you fade away, my demons take hold the complicated part of dancing with demons is sometimes you get burnt third degree pains holding my brains in a chokehold when all I’ve ever wanted is to breathe (in, out)

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Jan 9, 2023

Jan 9, 2023 at 7:46 AM UTC

ode to abilify maintena

I feel your departure in thoughts of alien abductions stolen away in the night leaving nothing but the lingering puffs of smoke from my last cigarette in slinking shadows — white ghostly figures just out of reach like the days last rays of sunshine as the sun goes down my sanity bleeds. each month, we dance this haunted tango just me and my 3000 dollar tourniquet against the world enough money in my deltoid to pay the rent today, I’ll be too tired to leave my bed but in a few weeks I won’t be able to sleep till golden rays filter in through window blinds finding my solace in sunbeams when you fade away, my demons take hold the complicated part of dancing with demons is sometimes you get burnt third degree pains holding my brains in a chokehold when all I’ve ever wanted is to breathe (in, out)

30

age 6 you said “this is what friends do” and placed a kiss on my lips tell me how a kiss on the lips became hands in pants became “you can’t tell anyone” when you saw my nervous excited scrawls about what we did in my diary age 6 shame? but I thought this is what friends did I know now I’ll never tell my mother age 7 you said you’d catch me a salamander “okay” I slip away a little more each time age 8? 9? these years are a blur I know your brother touched me too still never got that salamander age 10 your fingers still ghost my skin year to year “i won’t bully you anymore if you be my girlfriend” enough is enough i slam my full body weight on those ugly hands age 12 “I know what you did” says your friend I haven’t seen you in two years yet you still come up to haunt me age 14 “hey, you still live down the street? We should date” how do you not realize what you’ve done age 22 “Was he hot?” an old friend asks, probably on drugs I show him your picture, shaking later on I break an 8 year silence to ask you why. “it didn’t happen again after that” “it had a lot to do with age” why can’t you just say sorry. age 24 I still think about the things we did you did friends don’t kiss friends don’t put their hands in each others pants And I’ll still never tell my mother

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Jan 7, 2023

Jan 7, 2023 at 2:18 PM UTC

salamanders and broken promises

age 6 you said “this is what friends do” and placed a kiss on my lips tell me how a kiss on the lips became hands in pants became “you can’t tell anyone” when you saw my nervous excited scrawls about what we did in my diary age 6 shame? but I thought this is what friends did I know now I’ll never tell my mother age 7 you said you’d catch me a salamander “okay” I slip away a little more each time age 8? 9? these years are a blur I know your brother touched me too still never got that salamander age 10 your fingers still ghost my skin year to year “i won’t bully you anymore if you be my girlfriend” enough is enough i slam my full body weight on those ugly hands age 12 “I know what you did” says your friend I haven’t seen you in two years yet you still come up to haunt me age 14 “hey, you still live down the street? We should date” how do you not realize what you’ve done age 22 “Was he hot?” an old friend asks, probably on drugs I show him your picture, shaking later on I break an 8 year silence to ask you why. “it didn’t happen again after that” “it had a lot to do with age” why can’t you just say sorry. age 24 I still think about the things we did you did friends don’t kiss friends don’t put their hands in each others pants And I’ll still never tell my mother

46

peeking through slowly, carefully through the cracks in my brain the cracks of reality how would it feel being present in my mind and my body feeling real, feeling safe my brain is vicious, seeping poison running through black tinted veins i am Alice falling down the hole again

0

Aug 8, 2016

Aug 8, 2016 at 6:01 PM UTC

sanity

peeking through slowly, carefully through the cracks in my brain the cracks of reality how would it feel being present in my mind and my body feeling real, feeling safe my brain is vicious, seeping poison running through black tinted veins i am Alice falling down the hole again

16

you wish that you could fix everything but you are just one human living one flawed existence you've made your mistakes and I can't believe you managed to do this you left the girl who wrote i love you's in the snow and kissed your cold lips for six months over an ill-conceived thought formed by the disease devouring your brain you let the impulsive mania take over quickly devour all the love that she had for you all of the time she gave to you and spit it all back in her face and left me with the mess that you made

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Aug 7, 2016

Aug 7, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC

dear past self

you wish that you could fix everything but you are just one human living one flawed existence you've made your mistakes and I can't believe you managed to do this you left the girl who wrote i love you's in the snow and kissed your cold lips for six months over an ill-conceived thought formed by the disease devouring your brain you let the impulsive mania take over quickly devour all the love that she had for you all of the time she gave to you and spit it all back in her face and left me with the mess that you made

10