Seven years ago,
that’s when the problems began.
I started self medicating,
with a Tennessee brand.

At the top I had it all,
married with two kids.
I was finally in six figures,
when the **** began to skid.

Love had grown cold,
and became an abyss.
A couple of drinks to ease the stress,
but I felt ice in every kiss.

It became a routine,
when you simply shut down.
The drinks helped me forget,
but they also helped me drown.

Then one day we were strangers,
who were sharing a life.
I didn’t recognize the woman,
who I had asked to be my wife.

Then came the eruption,
and the stones were cast.
The family tore apart,
and WE became past.

Fast forward a year,
and I’m being let go.
The company’s closing,
and I’ve nothing to show.

Then goes the house,
and the car that we owned.
Everything is stripped now,
and I’m down to the bone.

Self medication,
is what helps the pain.
You were cheating the whole time,
and now you’re with what’s his name.

Now the medication,
is what’s causing the pain.
I’m trying to stop,
but I’m stuck in this lane.

Self medication,
self destruction in disguise.
Hospital visits,
simply wanting to die.

Looking back now,
it was a nightmare it seems.
One I couldn’t wake from,
that still haunts my dreams.

I wasn’t an alcoholic,
I had a mental breakdown.
I used the alcohol,
so I could help myself drown.

It took a long time,
and I’m still healing slow.
But hell came to earth,
and I was part of the show.

So forgive yourself,
and try to move on.
Let go of that pain,
and realize that it’s gone.

If you’re trying to forget,
then you’re lying to yourself.
So do yourself a favor,
and put the bottle on the shelf.

The weight of the world,
has settled at last.
The world shifted on,
as I fell to the past.

I open my eyes,
but they do not obey.
I taste copper in my throat,
and the sweet scent of decay.

I can hear splashing,
so faint it’s a dream.
I can also hear breathing,
and I just want to scream.

My arms will not listen,
when I tell them to lift,
and something is scraping,
with small groaning shifts.

The breathing is closer,
and the breath is so foul.
It’s trying to speak,
but its voice is a growl.

I’m trying to scream,
but my voice is a squeak.
Then my blood runs cold,
as it finally speaks.

“Payment”, it growls,
in a gravely tone.
And then I feel its touch,
and shiver to the bone.

The shape shifts away,
and the weight is now gone.
I open my eyes,
and am blinded by the dawn.

I blink at the figure,
hunched over the oars,
and stare out at the water,
looking for shore.

I want to ask the question,
but then I see his hands.
There’s no doubting the decay,
of the limbo ferryman.

I stood in the rubble,
and felt the heat from the flames.
Searching for taillights,
but the glow never came.

Our life slowly burned,
that we built as a team,
and a nightmare slowly grew,
where there’d once been a dream.

I didn’t know what to do,
once I knew you were through.
So I just watched the carnage,
and lost my mind too.

I didn’t understand,
but I think now I do.
You was the broken vase,
and I was only the glue.

I thought without me,
you would just fall apart.
I never considered,
you lied from the start.

I never fixed you,
like I thought all along.
Your sheer will held the pieces,
and that illusion was strong.

You went through the motions,
but not out of hate.
I know that came later,
but maybe it was fate.

Now that my heads clear,
I can finally see.
I can see the spiral,
that was once you and me.

I believed we were fine,
because I simply had to.
I think deep down inside,
I always knew.

Now that I’m clean,
I can’t lie to myself.
I can put aside pride,
and look up at that shelf.

The shelf built of lies,
that kept me alive,
as I slowly killed myself,
and drowned on the inside.

I can see now,
that it’s flimsy and frail.
The joints are all rotten,
and the paint has grown pale.

All that’s left to do,
is to tear it all down.
I think one hit will do it,
and crash it to the ground.

I’ll do it tomorrow,
if tomorrow should come.
At least I know the truth,
and you know what you’ve done.

I’m wearing a smile,
but the smile’s a lie.
I’m holding back tears,
but my eyes remain dry.

They say the way to the soul,
is seen through the eyes,
but if that is the truth,
then you can see my soul’s died.

I’m emotionally weak,
but too stubborn to break.
I scream at myself,
for being so ******* fake.

No one would know,
how broken I am.
Lying is my art form,
and self hatred’s my jam.

How can you love yourself,
when you hate who you are?
Hiding behind falseness,
like skin behind scars.

Maybe one day,
this disguise will explode.
Then you’ll see the real me,
and my world will implode.

Till then it’s my secret,
between me and myself.
So just look at my smile,
and ignore everything else.

I stopped falling today,
and I’m finally free.
I reached the bottom,
where it’s too dark to see.

Panic and fear,
no longer have hold.
The anxiety’s gone,
all that’s left is the cold.

Now I can focus,
on the climb that’s ahead.
But for now I’m content,
that I’m alive and not dead.

The pain that I held,
deep inside me so long,
is finally receding,
as I accept all my wrongs.

No more tears or shame,
they can’t reach me anymore.
No more hateful thoughts,
waking up on the floor.

Now I know I can do this,
I just need find my feet.
But for now I’ll just lay here,
where hell and bottom meet.

I’ve forgotten a time,
when pain used to hurt.
A time when it didn’t encompass,
my every day and thought.

I’ve forgotten the feeling,
of what hope was like.
Taking for granted the times,
when I just assumed everything would be ok.

I’ve forgotten how to act,
relying on reacting to things instead.
Realizing my defenses are already up,
they are simply just shattered and broken.

I’ve forgotten what happiness feels like,
what living in a moment is.
Every day has just become a struggle,
a fight to make it to the next, and the next.

Pain used to be my measurement,
how I would remember moments.
Now the pain is constant,
and the days are all one.

Love...is a memory,
one I can’t quite trust.
I think I had it once,
but perhaps it was just a lessening of pain.

Perhaps tomorrow I’ll remember,
if tomorrow should come.
Or perhaps the pain will end,
and I will have to decide which is worse.

Bottle an emotion,
or put it in a pill.
I’m trying to move forward,
but I’m only standing still.

Past becomes the present,
but my presence is in the past.
A nightmare that’s grown teeth,
to tear me apart at last.

What do you see in him,
that you didn’t see in me?
Why was I so horrible,
that you had to get free?

Now I need medication,
to fill the void that’s left,
but I cannot find the colors,
that left my soul bereft.

Am I really crazy?
I only ask cause I can’t tell.
Every day that I wake up,
is like waking up in hell.

Emotionally castrated,
full of wounds that never heal.
I wish I could be normal,
but I’ve lost the ability to feel.

It breaks my heart to think,
that there is no going back.
Because the past is now the present,
and the colors are all black.

So I guess that leaves the future,
and all I can do is hope.
Hope that my future past,
will allow for me to cope.

“Do you remember this place?”, I ask as I sit down in the grass next to you.  You look over at me, the sunlight glinting off of your hair as a soft smile spreads on your face and kisses your eyes with warmth.

“I could never forget it,” you say.

   We both stare out across the pond, drinking in the setting sun in a silence that seems eternal and comforting.

“How long do we have?” I ask.

   You look over at me, smiling once again, but this time there is sadness in your eyes.  “Not long,” you say.

   I nod.

   I look over to the church, the light glowing off the whitewashed boards, and sigh.  Memories flash through my head.
Good memories.
Perfect memories.

   “Do you remember my vows?” I ask, looking over at you as you pick a flower out of the grass.  You nod, and smile.  “I stayed up half the night before our wedding, trying to find just the right words for that poem.  I had already picked out the frame and told the people that I wanted to put that picture of your parents with the poem up front. I wanted to make sure they were there, for you, even if they really couldn’t be. I thought I could just wing my vows.”

   You look at me, a single tear falling from your eye.

   “Once you were there in front of me, and the moment was there, I couldn’t think of a single thing to sum up what you truly meant to me.  So I said the only thing I could.  That you are everything to me.”

   You take my hand, softly squeezing as another tear falls.  “It’s time to go,” you say.

   I look at you one last time, and lean over and softly kiss your lips, taking in the life one last time that I always wanted.

   “Goodbye my love,” I whisper.

   Then you are gone, and the last ray of light dies away.

   You were everything to me. Everything.

I close the door,
but it swings right back.
The latch has been broken,
and shot full of cracks.

I try to fix it,
try to take it all back,
but then it opens on darkness,
and I’m consumed by the black.

I want to step through,
to see if it’s still the same,
because it beckons to me,
softly calling my name.

That’s when I slam it,
and try to hold the **** still,
as something tries to turn it,
and break through my will.

That’s when my fingers,
grow sweaty and numb,
and I can feel the pressure increasing,
and I start to succumb.

The **** starts to turn,
and I start to lose my grip,
and then I stop fighting,
and my fingers slip.

I step away,
as the latch softly clicks,
and the dark whisps escape,
growing feelers to lick.

Then I am lost,
and stepping through the door,
hoping that it won’t shut,
but not caring anymore.

I’m bathing in nothing,
and I feel the memories cut,
as somewhere off in the distance,
I hear a door slam shut.

Today was a bad day,
and tomorrow will be too.
Yesterday was tragic,
and I don’t know what to do.

Every time I try,
I slip further away,
and even though I’m standing,
I just want to lay down today.

Lay among the pebbles,
and simply forget everything.
Till I wither away to nothing,
and my body’s claimed by spring.

Actions have consequences,
so why shouldn’t mine as well?
Why shouldn’t I just give in,
and make my way to hell.

Everything I see,
is ruined by my touch,
till I’m left in the ashes,
and it simply is too much.

Too much hurt,
and too much pain,
causing both,
with so much shame.

I am always sorry,
in my head and in my heart.
Now my engine is broken,
and has simply blown apart.

What the **** has happened,
to the man I used to be?
Which voice do I listen to,
when it’s speaking to me.

I just want some peace,
and for all of this to go away.
So I guess I’ve given up,
and there’s nothing more to say.

Panting and moaning,
your breath in my ear.
Running my hands,
over fabric so sheer.
The touch of your skin,
so warm and smooth.
Exploring your curves.
and every groove.
You’re biting my lip,
while I pull your hair.
gasping and sweating,
but neither of us care.
Silky and soft,
my fingers explore.
You grind against me,
like waves in a shore.
Grabbing your hips,
you match my pace.
Kissing me deeply,
enjoying the taste.
Harder and harder,
both holding our breath.
The ****** finally comes,
as I’m deep in your depth.
You’re clawing and scratching,
your nails down my back,
and screaming my name,
begging me “please Jack”.
Now we’re breathing hard,
and you shudder under me.
Enjoying the moment,
of pure ecstasy.

Lately I’ve wondered,
about everything.
I still try to make sense,
of an unwoven string.

Why does it still hurt,
when I remember you?
When I remember us,
before it all fell through.

Is it even possible,
that you used me so long?
Or did you say that to hurt me,
and justify your wrongs.

Did it help you to think,
that I didn’t matter at all?
Did you secretly smile,
knowing that I’d fall?

I cannot believe that,
I refuse to hate you.
I refuse to give in,
and accept a false truth.

I refuse to accept,
that I didn’t know your heart,
because if I accept that,
then it will tear me apart.

We both turned into things,
we should be ashamed of,
but even till the end,
I was still in love.

Now each day is torture,
trying to lie to myself.
Now I’m the one being fake,
trying to love someone else.

Is that how it felt,
when you were with me?
If it was then I understand,
and I can finally see.

She is sweet and kind,
and loves me so much,
but I have no more to give,
because I yearn for your touch.

So I’m doing to her,
what you did to me.
I’m not being fair,
but her loves imprisoning.

Going through the motions,
now I understand,
and I forgive what you did,
when you let go of my hand.

So I’ll just keep going,
and love you from afar.
Maybe one day it can change,
and this will just be a scar.

“Do you remember this place?”, I ask as I sit down in the grass next to you.  You look over at me, the sunlight glinting off of your hair as a soft smile spreads on your face and kisses your eyes with warmth.

“I could never forget it,” you say.

   We both stare out across the pond, drinking in the setting sun in a silence that seems eternal and comforting.

“How long do we have?” I ask.

   You look over at me, smiling once again, but this time there is sadness in your eyes.  “Not long,” you say.

   I nod.

   I look over to the church, the light glowing off the whitewashed boards, and sigh.  Memories flash through my head.
Good memories.
Perfect memories.

   “Do you remember my vows?” I ask, looking over at you as you pick a flower out of the grass.  You nod, and smile.  “I stayed up half the night before our wedding, trying to find just the right words for that poem.  I had already picked out the frame and told the people that I wanted to put that picture of your parents with the poem up front. I wanted to make sure they were there, for you, even if they really couldn’t be. I thought I could just wing my vows.”

   You look at me, a single tear falling from your eye.

   “Once you were there in front of me, and the moment was there, I couldn’t think of a single thing to sum up what you truly meant to me.  So I said the only thing I could.  You are everything to me.”

   You take my hand, softly squeezing as another tear falls.  “It’s time to go,” you say.

   I look at you one last time, and lean over and softly kiss your lips, taking in the life one last time that I always wanted.

   “Goodbye my love,” I whisper.

   Then you are gone, and the last ray of light dies.

   Everything.

This lack of emotion,
is what has shaped me.
It’s made me seem cold,
but I’m not what you see.

First funeral at thirteen,
one of my dads good friends.
Stabbed by his stepson,
such a horrible end.

Next year it got worse,
that’s when grandma died.
I remember the funeral,
and forcing myself not to cry.

Then two weeks later,
my dads best friends heart quit.
I held back the tears,
trying hard to control it.

Then six months later,
they found my grandpa.
Loaded gun in his hand,
his memories on the wall.

I started to crack,
but didn’t let it show.
I had to be strong,
so that no one would know.

Then three months later,
my uncle died.
I tried to control it,
but finally broke down and cried.

Running away,
till my dad caught me by the hand.
Then saying I was sorry,
when I could barely stand.

I didn’t want them to worry,
when they were hurting so much.
But it finally broke me,
my fathers touch.

I wept in his arms,
and could feel his tears on my cheek.
He was trying to comfort,
and I was ashamed to be weak.

The moment I saw,
my sweet uncles face,
something broke inside me,
that I had kept at bay.

I still cannot think,
about that without tears.
It breaks me every time,
even after all of these years.

So if I seem distant,
then I apologize.
Just know that I’m weeping,
it’s just on the inside.

I’m aware that I’m unstable,
In every sense and way,
that I bring nothing to the table,
so it’s not something you have to say.

Cause I wake up every morning,
in a paralytic state,
with cautionary warnings,
willing my emotions wait.

My therapist says things,
like “post traumatic stress”,
trying to unwind the strings,
that’s a tangled ******* mess.

Stop giving me labels,
while I’m paying out your dimes,
if you can’t fix what’s broken,
then don’t waste my ******* time.

So let’s say I’m dishonest,
and I haven’t told the truth.
Let’s say I’m being modest,
about all my self abuse.

I’m a ******* contradiction,
and I’m lying to myself.
Wishing for a benediction,
while I pull whiskey off the shelf.

I battle with depression,
but that doesn’t mean a thing,
and answering your questions,
doesn’t suddenly give it wings.

You need to let me be,
and let me tell you why,
because there’s someone else inside me,
and he wants to watch me die.

He’s the one that breaks,
everything you fix,
and he’s the one that takes,
and gives those strings a mix.

The devil lives inside me,
and he likes what he found,
and he’ll scream like a banshee,
till I’m six feet under ground.

I’m tired of the *******,
of the same ****** up routine.
I’m tired of saying this times different,
when it’s so obviously obscene.

I’m tired of the poison,
that I pour into myself.
I’m tired of the fear,
and becoming someone else.

I’m tired of the monotony,
of same **** different day.
I’m tired of not being truthful,
with every word I say.

I’m tired of not remembering,
what I did the night before.
I’m tired of acting like it’s ok,
that I should wake up on the floor.

I’m tired of the pain,
and the stress of it all.
I’m just so ******* tired,
of the black outs most of all.

How many years,
have I shaved away?
How many tears,
have I cried through the days?

This **** has to stop,
because it’s truly killing me.
I tried not to see that,
but now it’s plain for me to see.

I’m living to escape,
but the escape never comes.
It just gets ever shameful,
when I realize what I’ve done.

So today I’ll make the choice,
that I dreaded all these years.
I’ve broken something inside,
and lost myself among the fear.

I’ve finally realized,
so I’ll finally put it aside,
because what I have been doing,
is committing slow suicide.

So if you are reading this,
and you can somehow relate.
Turn away from Hells entrance,
before it becomes too late.

I wake up every morning,
and I just ignore the sounds,
of the absent ******* echos,
of a mind that’s gone to ground.
The motions are insanity,
that repeat and verberate,
beating voices through my head,
like ragged nails across a slate.
It used to drive me crazy,
now it’s simply just routine,
watching ghosts around me,
as they move through my daily scene.
There you’re making coffee,
and a laugh just filled the hall,
there you’re singing softly,
hanging pictures on the wall.
Then my mind shifts left,
into what I think is true,
but maybe I should lose myself,
and try to interact with you.
I know that’d make me crazy,
but let’s face it I am there.
I’m ignoring what I see,
but perhaps that isn’t fair.
Reality’s a concept,
and I don’t care if it’s not real.
I’d rather love the ghost of you,
than live a life that I can’t feel.
So tomorrow when I see you,
maybe you’ll smile for me,
and we can finally be happy,
at the cost of my sanity.

“Try to be happy,
You shouldn’t be sad.”
Don’t you think I know that?
It’s what drives me mad.

“Just stop thinking about it,
and let go of the past.”
It all seems so simple,
but I can’t make it last.

“It’s mind over matter,
just think positive.”
Like I’m in control,
of my thought narrative.

“I used to be depressed,
so trust me you’re fine.”
Suicidal thoughts,
and remorse intertwine.

“Just call me up,
I’m here whenever you need.”
I called three times today,
and sent texts you didn’t read.

“Don’t do something stupid,
because it would crush everyone.”
Thing is I don’t want to,
but this weight feels like a ton.

I’ve said all these things,
to people before.
I didn’t understand depression,
or drowning on the shore.

It’s losing the light,
that others can see,
and drowning in darkness,
and you cannot get free.

It’s anxiety and shame,
of being a burden.
It’s struggling to breathe,
but that next breath’s not certain.

You cry out for help,
for what you don’t understand,
and you sink ever deeper,
in depressions quicksand.

I’m sorry for everything,
for becoming this way.
just know you’ll never fix me,
with words that you say.

I’ll stick around,
for as long as I can.
Know I’m trying my best,
to find the light again.

Giddy with excitement,
she fumbles with her keys.
As the key slides home,
she grows weak in the knees.

She’s waited so long,
and it’s finally come.
She spent a small fortune,
and the thing weighs a ton.

She pushes in the package,
starting to sweat,
and suddenly realizes,
her ******* are wet.

She slides a finger inside her,
and lets out a moan,
trembling slightly,
all the way to the bone.

Gathering herself,
she locks the door tight,
and forces herself to calm down,
gathering all her might.

Getting down on her knees,
she opens the box,
brushing away the packing,
like styrofoam rocks.

When she sees his face,
she sits up *****.
He is so lifelike,
and anatomically correct.

Reaching into the box,
she caresses his face.
He’s so beautifully sculpted,
not a thing out of place.

Then she runs her hands,
down his chest to his groin,
caressing his ****,
feeling the warmth in her *****.

It’s bigger than expected,
as long as her forearm.
The biggest she’s had,
but this raises no alarm.

Taking her time,
she arranges him on the bed.
Even laying a pillow,
under his head.

Running fingers through his hair,
she begins to undress.
Doing it slowly,
cause slowly is best.

He’s more than a doll,
more than plastic parts.
He will never hurt her,
or break her heart.

She crawls on all fours,
in between his thighs,
running her fingers over him,
as she stares into his eyes.

Then she fills her mouth,
******* gently at first,
and then she fills her throat,
trying to quench her thirst.

She’s dripping now,
so exquisitely wet,
and moaning deeply,
like a good little pet.

The doll lays still,
as she mounts it slow.
She’s lost in her pleasure,
as something brushes her toe.

She opens her eyes,
as a hand grabs her throat,
and another her breast,
her vision starting to float.

She struggles for air,
and feels a ****** as it moves,
and a soft moan escapes it,
as the blackness consumes.

Bucking and fighting,
she claws at its face,
but it simply slides deeper,
and quickens its pace.

She stares down into eyes,
that are filled with life,
and features so sharp,
as to be carved by a knife.

It’s beauty is gone,
simply melted away,
seeming to flow freely,
as if made from soft clay.

As her vision fades,
it moves inside her,
whispering “my princess”,
in a soft little purr.

Silent depression,
but who the hell cares?
Who fixes the fixer,
when his tools start to wear?

We all have our problems,
that we try to solve.
I tried to fix others,
and never let mine resolve.

I’m funny, and charming,
“he listens so well”,
No one could imagine,
my internal hell.

The drinking helped,
well it did at first.
My problems melted,
but what replaced it was thirst.

Thirst for escape,
that grew bigger inside.
But I started to crack,
and the cracks became wide.

Then the voice crawled up,
and made a permanent home.
The one that’s trying to **** me,
and keep me alone.

Each failure and loss,
“lets have a drink”.
And then having another,
after throwing up in the sink.

Constant agitation,
and fear for my life.
Listening to that voice,
tracing my veins with a knife.

I’m lost in a world,
that doesn’t feel real.
I’ve killed all the realness,
with each drink I spill.

So tell me your problems,
and I’ll pretend I’m ok.
And maybe one day I will be,
not now, but someday.

Did you know that I used to melt at your smile?  That I used to be so overwhelmingly happy in planning little surprises and sweet things for you with just that smile as a repayment.

Did you know that I got so scared when that smile started to become less and less?  That I knew that something was wrong, and even though I was still trying to do those little things that I could see they didn’t mean as much to you.

Did you know that I always blamed myself for us growing apart?  That I would torture myself trying to find the reasons why you had become so distant and unhappy.

Did you know that when I lost you that I lost absolutely everything?  That I honestly felt like someone had taken the purpose of me and threw it away, and that my heart hurt so bad that I didn’t think I would be able to stand it.

Did you know how bad those words would hurt me when you said them.  That realizing that you never loved me, and that you used me to better your situation for seven years took every smile you gave me and turned it into an agony of falseness that I would never be able to escape from.

Do you know that I still love you?  That after everything, I still dream about you and lie awake at night after three years as a slideshow of you runs through my head.

Do you know that even if you never loved me, that you will always be my true love?

Do you know?

I didn’t think of you today.
That’s a lie that I often tell myself, naively thinking that I can fool myself.

I only thought of you a little today.
A pill of non-truth that is only slightly easier to swallow because it’s grounded in deception and not outright lies.

I can’t stop thinking about you today.
The absolute truth.  Whoever said the truth shall set you free was obviously not talking about the lies we tell ourselves, because this truth captures me and torments me to no end.

You destroyed every part of me, and still I light up at your text.  Still I wonder, and wonder, and wonder.  Creating scenarios inside my head that can never be reality.  Creating scenarios where I’m not broken, and you’re happy, and the world didn’t burn.

I didn’t think of you today.  

Not yet.

I didn’t realize how bad I had gotten, how much the depression had truly taken over my life.  No matter how bad things get, the human mind can get used to anything and deem it as “normal” without a hint of irrationality.  Repetition, that is all that it takes to slip further and further away.  

Something happened yesterday though, that broke through everything and sent those misguided walls crashing down.

I laughed.

I laughed without thinking about it. I laughed without worrying that I was doing it too loud, or that I wasn’t putting the right hint of sincerity behind it.  I laughed because in that moment I was happy, and that most rational of human responses felt alien.

I laughed, and the laughter was heart warming but also heart breaking at the same time.

It felt nostalgic.  

Being happy and having a proper human response brought on memories when I used to do it every day, and the memories where so far removed they were.......nostalgic.

I guess you never really know how sick you have become until you start to get better.
I think I’ll try it again today.

Down in the willows,
among the thickets and thorns.
I try to move silent,
but my spirit’s forlorn.

Each move I make,
draws blood from my skin,
or my feet grow entangled,
as the sadness sets in.

The whispering branches,
lightly brush my face,
narrowing my vision,
as I pray for some space.

I try to remember,
how I became lost,
but the memories disappear,
with each breath of frost.

The willows are singing,
beckoning me.
They tell me to come home,
and they will set me free.

So I keep moving,
without looking around.
I stare at my feet,
as the float across the ground.

Then I realize,
that the thorns are all gone.
The ground’s become clear,
with each note of their song.

I look all around me,
at the meadow of tall grass,
and realize I’ve come home,
and I’m free at last.

No more pain inside,
no more worries or fear.
No more disappointment,
from the ones I hold dear.

I run my hands through the grass,
finally finding some peace,
and lay down among friends,
whose heartbeats have ceased.

The colors are vibrant,
but the shapes are all wrong.
Reality’s bending,
and time has grown long.

One second is twenty,
or perhaps it’s reversed.
Is this real or fake?
I can’t tell which is worse.

Maybe this is Hell,
without the pretense.
Maybe Hell’s just repeating,
what doesn’t make sense.

That would explain,
why each day is the same.
Why nothing has changed,
except more growing shame.

Hello officer, yes,
I want to report a crime.
Someone’s driving my body,
and I don’t have much time.

Then the phone is a book,
and reality shifts.
I suddenly can’t remember,
but my uneasiness lifts.

Oh well, it’s a dream,
just a farce I guess.
But each time I wake up,
I seem to come back less.

I forget to remember,
not to forget.
Wait, what was I saying?
I can’t remember just yet.

Dream and reality,
are now one in the same.
I guess when you can’t tell the difference,
you’ve truly gone insane.

Come take my hand,
and we’ll fly away.
To better times,
of yesterday.

We’ll search for places,
that are thin between.
We’ll find the tears,
and slip in unseen.

In between to nothing,
that exists there.
Where we can be alone,
without these cares.

Or we can travel through,
to the next world beyond.
Find the next in between,
and truly be gone.

We can find a place,
where we don’t exist.
Or we can choose to fall,
into the abyss.

Just be brave now,
and take my hand,
and let’s fly away,
to Neverland.

This anxiety,
is making me anxious.
Feeding itself,
until it becomes dangerous.

It’s PTSD,
of some varying degree.
Each startup and failure,
taking its toll on me.

The inability to remember,
the pain and the fear.
Forgetting the scars,
that should be so clear.

The voice in your head,
reassuring you.
Saying this time will be different,
when you know it’s not true.

Louder and louder,
till it starts to scream.
Your anxiety grows,
and splits at the seam.

Then you give in,
letting go at last.
The voice takes control,
and repeats the past.

Another, another!!
It screams in a growl.
More, more!!
A predator on the prowl.

Then it is gone,
and you’re just floating there.
Trying to make sense of things,
trying to be aware.

Then it all crashes down,
and you’re drowning in hate.
You’re full of self loathing,
and memories that exacerbate.

Now the long road ahead,
seems to have no end.
Your chest hurts so bad,
and the tremors set in.

You can’t eat or sleep,
so you traumatize your brain.
You’re scared you might die,
but you’re more scared of the pain.

Four days and you’re better,
but the memories end.
Then that tiny voice,
starts to whisper again.

Over and over,
rinse and repeat.
Slowly killing yourself,
for a small fix of heat.

Is this real,
or is this fake?
Is this a dream,
where I cannot wake?

Am I doomed to eternity,
of repeating sin?
A purgatory of do-overs,
again and again.

Purge it once,
rinse and repeat.
Tie up the strings,
and make it neat.

Reality,
is not what it seems,
but which side’s the waking,
and which side’s the dream.

I guess it don’t matter,
if you can’t tell.
Cause neither side’s good,
they’re double sided hell.

I’ll keep moving,
and try not to see,
the fluctuations,
surrounding me.

So if this is real,
then I’m sorry Dear,
but I doubt it is,
cause nothing is clear.

Either way I’m doomed,
to an eternity,
of repeating days,
and insanity.

As I sit here by myself,
I try to write these words.
I try to force them into sense,
and make them not sound absurd.

I used to transfer pain,
through the tip of this pen.
Pouring out the poison,
so that I could think again.

I used to bask in the hollow,
that the transfer left behind.
Breathing in the silence,
of a defragmented mind.

Then one day I wrote something,
and set back to enjoy the peace,
but the transfer didn’t happen,
and the noise seemed to increase.

It was like instead of hitting transfer,
my mind hit copy instead.
It was there on the page,
but it was still in my head.

I began to panic,
with every poem I wrote.
The poison wouldn’t leave,
and it was coating my throat.

I began to notice teardrops,
and that my words were blurred.
I never even knew I was crying,
but my brain was slurred.

Whatever this is,
it’s taken hold of me.
It won’t allow me the pleasure,
of setting my thoughts free.

So I’m slowly filling up,
and tipping more each day.
One day I’ll crash over,
and this debt will be paid.

I think that’s the reason,
that I can’t force it out.
I have sins to atone for,
ones I can’t forget about.

Unmasque! Unmasque!
I think Poe said it best.
The masks are hiding us,
only showing our best.

What if, let’s say,
I was to take this mask off?
Would you scream, I wonder,
or would you simply scoff?

Underneath this mask,
is another you see.
So how many layers until,
you get down to me?

I think at the base,
that person’s ceased to be.
I’ve suffocated him slowly,
masking insanity.

I’ve welded the doors shut,
and hid away inside.
Praying that the Red Death,
would simply let me abide.

But now the party’s over,
Unmasque! Unmasque!
The insanity has grown feelers,
through these layers of mask.

One by one they’ve fallen,
and been swept aside.
Revealing the damage,
I tried so hard to hide.

Now the air has grown thin,
through this last mask I wear.
I can feel it pulling away,
and starting to tear.

Forgive me please,
I knew not what I done.
At least I’ll be at peace,
with my true face in the sun.

Whispering sadness,
is calling to me.
Dreams become nightmares,
and won’t cease to be.

It’s like I’m running dead out,
and then it’s a forty five degree wall.
Then no matter how fast I run,
I’m destined to fall.

I’m fleeing from something,
but I can’t get away.
It only keeps gaining,
with each passing day.

I know if I was to stop,
to simply catch my breath,
then it will be upon me,
and that would mean my death.

The weapons I had,
to keep this beast at bay,
have slowly been lost,
or have been stripped away.

That’s an apt description,
of depression I think.
Eventually the ground will turn soft,
and I’ll start to sink.

It’s just overwhelming,
this sadness i feel.
I try so hard to fight it,
but I don’t want a pill.

I guess the terror of death,
is nothing compared,
to losing who I am,
so that I won’t be scared.

So I apologize,
for not being alright.
Just remember I’m struggling,
with things I can’t fight.

Once upon a time,
is how fairytales begin,
but Happily Ever After,
is not reality before The End.

Take anguish and grief,
and sprinkle it with some spite.
Add a dash of self hatred,
and some pain till it tastes right.

Don’t forget betrayal,
to give it that bitter note.
Maybe just a pinch of love,
to bring the sweetness to your throat.

And you can’t forget addiction,
any one will do.
Maybe a touch of insanity,
if you want some zest to this stew.

Now, Once Upon A Time,
you tried this meal,
and Happily Ever After,
was certainly not how you feel.

I’m afraid that if we keep eating,
then we’ll all be dead soon.
Because what we’ve made is poison,
and hope is our spoon.

So now it’s your choice,
eat up, or start again.
I’d suggest starting over,
cause if you don’t it’s The End.

Why is it so hard,
to simply let you go?
It feels like you just left,
but that was three years ago.

How can it still hurt,
after all of that time?
I’m so far from ok,
even though I say I’m fine.

I miss so many things,
that you brought to my life.
I miss your laughter and smiles,
and calling you my wife.

I miss running my fingers,
through your ***** blonde hair.
I miss being happy,
it’s just simply not fair.

Now the person I am,
has changed so ******* much.
Now I just go through the motions,
of living and such.

I try to be angry,
and hide behind hate.
I try to rhyme you away,
but the pain won’t abate.

I just really miss you,
and I just don’t feel whole.
You took my heart when you left,
but you also took my soul.

You were, and still are,
everything to me.
Now I love you from afar,
and that’s how it has to be.

Maybe one day,
I’ll finally let go of you,
but not today,
today I don’t want to.

So I’ll see you tonight,
and in my daydreams today.
Maybe you see me too,
but if you don’t, it’s ok.

Where are you going,
and where have you been?
How long have you traveled,
never finding the end?

How can you keep moving,
towards the nothing you see?
How’d you become a prisoner,
yearning to be free?

When did you realize,
nothing mattered anymore?
When did the clarity hit you,
that it didn’t matter before?

When did the hate,
take control of you?
Guiding your actions,
and all that you do.

When did the darkness,
begin to creep in?
Consuming the light,
that used to shine within.

When did you decide,
to stop living your life?
Each day as painful,
as a fresh cut from a knife.

There has to be more,
I’m just afraid that there’s not.
My hope has dried up,
and I’m scraping the ***.

So what do you do,
when your mind kills your heart?
When you’re so overwhelmed,
you don’t know where to start.

If you should find answers,
then please let me know.
Until then I’ll keep in the hurt,
and try to not let it show.

This ****’s been going on,
for far too long.
It took me talking to him,
to know something was wrong.

It started as a whisper,
so quiet and weak.
I could force it to silence,
without having to speak.

Then my mind and body,
started to waste.
He started to gorge,
and fell in love with the taste.

My slow decline,
was the foothold he needed,
and his tendrils grew,
where I didn’t know they were seeded.

His control grew bigger,
till it shadowed my mind,
and the whiskey fog I was in,
had simply turned me blind.

Then one day I was through,
enough was enough.
I was going to take control,
I had to be tough.

That was the first time,
that he spoke to me,
and that “no” was enough,
to finally make me see.

I tried and I tried,
again and again,
crying through his laughter,
trying to pour him out through a pen.

He was poison,
like a cancer you see.
He was killing us both,
but everyone just blamed me.

Then one day I realized,
I couldn’t get rid of that voice.
To do that meant death,
and that wasn’t a choice.

He’s a part of me,
but disconnected too.
A bystander to the hell,
that he’s putting me through.

Now every day is a struggle,
to quiet his voice.
Trying to convince myself,
that I do have a choice.

So he’s here to stay,
the monkey on my back.
The ominous stranger,
who calls himself, Jack.

“I don’t know what to do”,
she says quietly.
“I know it sounds paranoid,
but he’s following me.”

“I talked to his sister,
she said he’s out of state.
Supposedly in Ohio,
cause he needed a break.”

“But no one’s heard from him,
since I got the P.O.
He always said they were useless,
just false safety for show.”

“Well of course he isn’t,
he left this last night.
He has the only spare key,
and I know I locked up tight.”

“I’ve never seen that picture,
but I still have that dress.
He bought it for me,
and it’s the one he liked best.”

“But turn it over,
and look what he wrote.
It’s ******* filthy,
that part about *******.”

“I’m just really scared,
because I know he’s watching.
I constantly have the feeling,
someone’s following me.”

“Would you do me a favor,
and stay with me tonight?
I probably won’t sleep,
but if you’re there I might.”

“Thank you so much,
you are such a great friend.
Just having a man there,
makes a difference in the end.”

“I’ll see you tonight,
thank you so much again.
He always hated you,
even though we’re just friends.”
.
.
.
.
I watch out the window,
as she climbs in her car.
She doesn’t suspect it’s me,
at least not so far.

She didn’t ask why I was sweating,
or see the dirt under my nails.
Thank God she was upset,
and didn’t notice the smell.

I keep watching,
till she drives away,
touching myself,
as I play out the day.

She was right about one thing,
he’s still around,
but he won’t leave my basement,
once he’s in the ground.

Maybe I’ll get lucky,
and she’ll wear the dress.
He did have good taste,
cause it’s the one I liked best.

I remember the way you looked,
the night we first met.
It seems like ages ago,
when your last name was Arivett.

Blonde hair and that sweater,
the one I loved so much.
It was light grey,
and so soft to the touch.

I brought you carnations,
that were white as pearl,
but I saved back three,
for your little girl.

You both met me at the door,
and she was super shy.
She giggled an squealed,
holding her flowers tight.

I was never dating you,
it was all of us.
Three against the world,
that’s how it always was.

Then we moved away,
and you got pregnant.
I was so **** thrilled,
but you didn’t want to keep it.

I was hurt and confused,
but I blamed the hormones.
I guess I should have seen,
when I saw that message on your phone.

I didn’t even know the dude,
because you never told me,
but the pic that he sent you,
should have made me see.

But I forgave that,
and I moved on,
till I found out you ****** him,
and then the trust was gone.

Still I forgave you,
and put it out my head.
I ignored all the warnings,
because of things you said.

Now you are gone,
and took our little girl.
And Bub is a hostage,
and ****’s starting to swirl.

Everything that I have,
is a memory of you.
Memories that grow darker,
cause they’re only half truths.

The cards and the notes,
that I store away.
I want them to be real,
but if they were you’d have stayed.

Your love was a lie,
that you built so well,
that you couldn’t imagine the damage,
when it finally fell.

Now I’m the one that’s digging through,
trying to make the pieces fit.
I can’t move on until it’s done,
but you simply don’t give a ****.

I just wish you’d tell me,
if it was real or if it was fake.
Tell me it was just a nightmare,
for my sanity’s sake.

I’m not gonna lie
and tell you I’m ok.
Just please tell me,
how much longer do I have to pay?

I know the pain will never end,
I just want some ******* relief.
Cause I cannot keep doing this,
and the memories are growing teeth.

There used to be a fire,
that burned inside of me.
I never had to tend it,
it had always just burned free.

It roared so fiercely,
and burned so ******* bright.
It kept me moving forward,
and broke the darkness with its light.

Then something started changing,
and the light began to dim.
The flames began to lessen,
and they never grew again.

Every day that passed,
the fire was less and less.
And the darkness creeped in,
making my direction a guess.

Then one day it flickered,
guttered, and died.
The darkness consumed me,
and I grew cold inside.

Now I just stumble,
trying to relight my flame.
But I can’t see where I’m going,
all this black looks the same.

I just need a spark,
to rekindle my soul.
And if I can’t find it,
then I’ll never be whole.

Today I’ll ponder,
on these scars.
Tonight I’ll wish,
upon a star.

Tomorrow may bring,
another wound,
but wounds can heal,
if treated soon.

Yesterday,
I thought of death,
and felt the wind,
sigh with his breath.

Not today,
he whispered clear,
perhaps tomorrow,
but do not fear.

In the end,
he comes to all.
The weak, the strong,
the big and small.

He’s timeless and constant,
Death’s always “been”,
and he has no pity,
foe or friend.

He’ll lead me on,
to the unknown,
giving me the thing,
he can never own.

So I will not fear him,
and I shall not fret.
For tomorrow,
has not happened yet.

“You can do this”,
I whisper to myself.
“The past is done,
so put it on the shelf”.

I’ve told myself this,
so many times.
I’ve wrote reams of content,
full of self hate in rhymes.

I would go along,
slowly gaining confidence,
then came the back slide,
and the heartfelt recompense.

Over and over,
never ending it seemed.
Until I thought of an end,
where I could be redeemed.

I wanted to end it,
the pain and the sorrow.
I really didn’t care,
if there was no more tomorrow.

Thinking back now,
I’ve finally realized.
That the hope of an end,
was a bag full of lies.

My pain would end,
by ending my life,
but others pain would grow,
so I had a double edged knife.

That’s when I realized,
I was holding the blade.
No matter how I moved it,
new cuts would be made.

I have to carry this knife,
until the end of all things,
but I can carry it by the hilt,
and end this suffering.

It’s there,
and still sharp,
but it’s at arms length,
away from my heart.

I can keep control,
I know I have to,
and at this moment,
it’s all I can do.

Is today the day,
the day that this all ends?
Is this the day of reckoning,
where I atone for all these sins?

Was that last drink the one,
the one that tipped the scale?
Finally killing my heart,
and turning my skin pale.

Was yesterday the last day,
that I will see my son?
The last day that I’ll hold him,
our final day of fun.

Has circumstance defined me,
or has this been all free will?
Slowly killing myself,
whiskey breath finally still.

So many things I want to know,
that I was to afraid to ask.
Crying crimson tears,
behind a happy ******* mask.

Today I think I’ve done it.
I think I finally went too far.
I finally reached my limit,
thrown out of sorrows bar.

Maybe if there is tomorrow,
I can try to stand again,
or maybe I’ll go further,
and just try to reach the end.

This insanity has cleansed me,
and washed away my skin.
Fear has drove me forward,
running backwards towards begin.

When will this stop?
That’s a question I control.
I can finally end the pain,
and all it cost’s my soul.

So I’ll blow away the fear,
with my final breath,
and try to live with that decision,
of this simple selfish death.

You’ve seen her every day,
and she’s quick with a smile.
Always laughing and happy,
and joyful all the while.

She fell in love young,
and married the perfect man.
She has two beautiful children,
and helps others when she can.

You’re envious and jealous,
of the perfect life she leads.
So beautiful and perfect,
and she always succeeds.

I bet you can’t imagine,
that she cries herself to sleep.
That sometimes she’s so unhappy,
that all she can do is weep.

I bet you wouldn’t guess,
that Mr. perfect likes to drink.
Or that he shoots up ******,
over the bathroom sink.

Would you be surprised,
if she lifted up her shirt,
and you could see the bruises,
and scars where he likes to hurt?

Would you be shocked,
if you knew those kids had seen,
the night he broke her nose,
and put a hole in the tv screen?

Would you be understanding,
if she came to you for help?
If she told you everything,
and you could see the welts.

Mr. and Mrs. perfect,
always happy as can be.
Next time take a closer look,
and I wonder what you’ll see.

I wanted to write this,
as a final farewell.
I had dreams of the impact,
as I walked into hell.

I had visions of you,
falling to your knees,
as you heard the news,
and I ceased to be.

I thought of all of the hurt,
and how unbearable it felt,
and how it just kept coming,
and feeling my sanity melt.

Sometimes I wake up,
from nightmares in tears,
and I know that they’re memories,
that I don’t allow to come clear.

Taking the gun,
off the shelf by my bed.
The weight of eternity,
filled with dead lead.

At the table with a knife,
tracing veins on my wrist,
fighting back the voice,
through a drunk ******* mist.

The countless bottles,
I poured into the pain,
Trying to find some relief,
and only finding more shame.

I wanted to hate you,
I wanted to make you pay.
So that maybe you’d know,
what it was like every day.

But now even that’s gone,
and I’m so tired now.
Now I just want to rest,
and cover my brow.

Now I don’t care if it hurts you,
or if you’d weep openly.
You’ve taken that too,
along with the rest of me.

Just please stop the hurt,
I can’t take it no more.
Erase what you can,
and please shut that door.

I just wanted to love you,
and make you my world.
Now my world is burning,
and my vision’s left swirled.

How do you transform,
emotions into words?
How do you describe despair,
without sounding absurd?

How can you paint,
using just text?
Trying your best to show hell,
through memories so convex.

It’s distorted, and ******,
and makes no ******* sense.
So you simply stop trying,
and let the pen run hence.

It’s like a highway,
from your head to your hand,
and the words simply flow,
into pictures you understand.

Vivid details,
melted to the core.
Simplistic observations,
into complicated lore.

It’s a rush, and insane,
like a dictated fever.
Like Frankenstein’s monster,
after pulling the lever.

When it’s done, and you’re empty,
re-reading your prose,
you can feel that channel,
starting to close.

Those are the times,
when I’m most at peace.
When the poison is gone,
and I’ve fed the beast.

I’ll never know how,
I get rid of the pain,
but thank God I can,
or I’d go insane.

Sometimes I create daydreams,
with nothing omitted,
and if others could see,
then I would be committed.

Daydreams of the pain,
that I’d make you endure,
till you begged me to stop,
as you writhe on the floor.

Dreams of carving “bad mommy”,
into your forehead,
so that your always reminded,
even if I’m dead.

Dreams of hurting him,
for what he’s done to our son,
you never lifting a finger to stop,
not ******* one.

Using me like you did,
like I wasn’t even real,
like I wasn’t a person,
or a human that could feel.

Seven years we’re together,
raising your daughter as mine.
You say you never loved me,
you faked it the whole time?

You only stayed,
because you were pregnant with bub?
In seven ******* years,
you couldn’t find something to love?!

You didn’t want to be,
a single mom of two?!
So you cheated with him?!
Well **** him, and *******!

Now I know the truth,
I know how you got that raise,
it wasn’t just him,
you ****** the entire place.

All of that I could forgive,
but he treats our son like ****,
and you just let it happen,
and I’ll never forget.

He knows that I’ll **** him,
if he ever lays a hand,
but it’s coming to a head,
and I’m about to ******* stand.

He’s all I got left,
you took all the rest,
and he’s the reason I’m here,
why my heart beats in my chest.

I wanted our son,
the moment I knew he was conceived,
and when he was born healthy,
I was so ******* relieved.

So you better pray,
that he doesn’t hurt bub,
because I’m one step from insanity,
all I need is a shove.

You ruined my life,
so you better take care of our sons’,
because my daydreams are vivid,
and I’m dying to try one.

Coming Home

I stop and I stare,
and I can't help but grin.
At my beautiful angels,
i've come home to again.

I can see in your eyes,
your true love for me.
And in our daughters smile,
that she thinks I can't see.

My family, my loves,
and my two dreams come true.
The best part of my day,
is coming back home to you.

I wait and I wait,
to see my best friend.
For this perfect moment,
that I wish wouldn't end.

I take you in my arms,
and I breathe a deep sigh.
This is what I was missing,
since we said our goodbyes.

I run my hand up your chin,
and pull you in for a kiss.
then I kiss your forehead,
but you trip and I miss.

We both start to laugh,
and the moment has passed.
But we don't seem to care,
cause we're together at last.

True love at it's finest,
and a family as one.
Smiling together,
and always having fun.

My two little ladies,
the ones I adore.
The girls that I love,
and the ones I'd die for....


My eyes flutter open,
and my chest starts to heave.
You were there for a moment,
why did you leave?

I bring my hands to my face,
and sob at the scars.
I scream myself hoarse,
until I start to see stars.

I look to the left,
at the empty bottle of pills.
It wasn’t enough,
not enough to ****.

I shut my eyes tight,
and curl into a ball,
and hold onto the memory,
that was a dream after all.

I pull out a stool,
and I throw down a ten.
"A single shot whiskey,
and a single shot gin."

I drink them both down,
and cringe at the taste.
Out comes another ten,
and there's plenty to waste.

"Lets stick with the whiskey,
in a double shot glass."
It may take a while,
but the memories should pass.

I open my throat,
and invite the slow burn.
I sit down my glass,
as the room starts to turn.

I pull out a twenty,
and the bartender frowns.
Looking up and thinking twice,
before saying "slow down".

"One more double and a beer,
and i'll put it on cruise."
She pours them both slowly,
not the least bit amused.

"Your cruise doesn't work,
and we both know that's true."
I flash a fake smile,
just like I always do.

I find a small table,
in the back by itself.
I'm becoming a fixture,
like an old dusty shelf.

Memories of you,
and our little girl start to blur.
and my eyes start to water,
as my speech starts to slur.

The scars on my hands,
they drive me insane.
A constant reminder,
I couldn't save you from pain.

So i'll drink another double,
to erase my memory.
Of our little girls smile,
and our perfect family.

I don't want to forget you,
and it kills me to try.
But I still blame myself,
for the night you both died.

Twisted sheet metal,
is all that I see.
And I squeeze my eyes shut,
as these tears stream my cheeks.

What do you do,
when your mind kills your heart?
When your greatest memories,
are what's tearing it apart.

You are the loves of my life,
and my closest dear friends.
And I will love you forever,
until I see you again...

Today I woke up,
and I realized,
that I hadn’t been sleeping,
and was grief paralyzed.

All that had happened,
all the ****** up nightmares,
all the loathing and anguish,
were all laid out and bare.

It took me a second,
to finally find my breath,
and when I did, I screamed,
and simply wished for death.

Take it away,
the agony that I feel,
I cannot bear this,
there’s no way to heal.

There was no answer,
as I lay on the ground.
No yes or no,
absolutely no sound.

I finally thought,
enough is enough.
I’ll fix it myself,
all the things I ****** up.

But before I do,
I’ll fix myself,
because you can’t fix what’s broken,
with something broken itself.

Today I start with me,
and I took a footstep.
One followed another,
even though I still wept.

I never looked back,
so I didn’t see,
what I left behind,
on the ground, was me.

These emotional pills,
are too hard to swallow.
I keep forcing them down,
against all my will.
Now I’m choking to death,
and you want to know how I feel?!

Damage upon damage,
that’s covered up with fresh paint.
But the layers are peeling,
showing fresh wounds of feelings,
you may think you’re in love,
but I know that you ain’t.

So don’t get to know me,
because there’s no way you will see,
the person under the mask,
with the hollow, bloodshot eyes.
You may think you can reach me,
but you’ll just set me free,
because it’s just empty air,
where I used to be.

So just do us both a favor,
and keep, your who's, when’s, and why’s.
And I’ll let you imagine,
you didn’t see a disguise.

Today I woke up,
so it’s going pretty well.
Tomorrow might be different,
if it is then farewell.
The next day?
Well, that would be a blessing,
and I’ve learned that to count that,
would be obsessing.
Obsessing?
Counting days like a health bar,
poison is draining it,
and Mario took the star.