A storm of thought and vitriol
Storming around my head;
Self-harm practically habitual,
What others could do in my stead.

Thoughts

Thoughts

Thoughts

Nothing good, nothing healthy;
Vile and horrid and tempestuous noise,
And constant begging to be free,
More noise. More noise. More noise.

And then

I see you

And for just a moment
Everything's okay again

Nearly five months now, I've worked this way,
And it's finally taken it's toll.
My heart was open.
My soul is bared.
And now my mind is bare.

A full year was beyond me,
But I'm satisfied with what I've done.

I strive to create,

Yet my canvas remains clean.

Curse this temporary fate;

As an artist, I feel second-rate.

Clear, ever flowing,
The river coursing through me;
Carving it's own path.

A void brings nothing but pain,
This, I find, rings true throughout me.
A heart split in twain,
A stomach running empty.

Yet it's when my head feels full,
That it chooses to announce dismay;
It racks and beats against my skull,
And announces intent to stay.

Music of the soul
Carried aloft amidst winds
Leaves me feeling blue

Pen touches paper
As the sun kisses the horizon
Fulfilling an empty promise
To see this ritual through