I crawled out of bed
Adjusted my thoughts
My heart on my sleeve
And my stomach in knots

I damaged my brain
To powder my nose,
The abyss of my conscience . . .
As the wind blows

I grabbed at my gloves
Pulled on my pretense
Confused and uncertain
Why life felt so dense

The life that I saw
On med after med
Now only exists
Within Maple’s head

In front of you, now
Gift wrapped and retouched
Hope you like what you see
Cause I don’t very much

Dressed and well-practiced
In subtle charade
I’ve nothing but danced
This stark masquerade.

Parades of knaves,
And smitten sheep;
Came to pervade
OUR hide and seek...

Depraved – I caved
To strut; to seek
Tirades of graves
With CREEP antiques.

CHARADES engraved
On my physic;
Enslaved, I waved
Through gift-wrapped chic.

For Beneath enclaves,
She seeks the meek
whose souls – she'd flay,
To Hide-and-TWEAK.

Last class:*

Muddled mind and bleary eyed
Concentration took a fall
Find a hollow - crawl inside
Lost the pills to Now-Tow Hall

Benzos - always second choice
Wear my Kpen like a shawl
Want to whine with all my voice
GIVE ME BACK MY ADDERALL

This class:

**Iris in on what's inside
Orange bottle of enthrall
Guidance, I will not abide
my true love - oh adderall

Tweaking out with pupils wide
Shrink my presence, oh so small,
Temptations I will all abide
Personified a mere rag doll.

~-~-~

Promise after promise
Fell into my head
I carried them with me,
I took them to bed

So hopeful, I waited;
To hold your forever
Intentions negated
This jaded endeavor

Yet, lies soon took shape
And doubt would take hold
Your dormant coercion
Cementing the mold.

You never came through
You never came back
The woodchips, they faded
The bracelets, I lacked

Trapped under my instincts
My innocence, vanished
The moon was relinquished
My purity, famished

Young as I was
I’ll never forget
The impact you left me;
Your stark epithet. . .

You took something good,
You found something pure
My will cut in half
Rose white, and demure.


The root of my psyche
You’ve yet to discern,
Who plundered my childhood;
My chastity, burned.

Existence forgotten;
Defined from within
I’ll never evade you
You’re etched in my skin.

Scar after scar
Fell into my arm
Your ink swam my bloodstream
Your slander, your charm

I swindled the rabbit
And powdered my nose
Freefalling in choices
Defining your prose.

With tasty white pills,
A hand in my throat
A liver that’s grilled;
The bible I quote.

With no one on earth
To save me from me
I sampled the bottle
From under our tree.

I cannot begin
Nor pretend to describe
What happened to Maple,
Who am I inside?

The loneliest girl
In the entire world
The events I’d mistaken
The chastity; hurled


All that I know
And all that I think;
Is this monster within me
Was born in a blink

But who’d tune in now?
The opinions are set.
My mind is jay walking
The lines of regret.

The holes in my person
The doubt I can’t sever;
My husk of normalcy
Braving the weather. . .

For what you don’t know
Is what you can’t nurse
Assumptions you draw
Are making me worse.

Conclusions concocted
Your story, enhanced
My path interrupted
Dismissed by a glance.

So I’ll say goodbye;
There’s no seeds to sew
For this is my truth. . .
Confession bestowed.

Still treading his words
That flood to the brink;
Harassed, used, and left
In less than a BLINK.

Just a Game. . .

In the comfortable stockade of my mind
Hide and seek cannot be won
Tip­toe away and find a hollow,
The solitary spot
Slipping between turmoil
Festering in alcoves
Always waiting; back tensed,
Adrenalin sheathing the silence
If I remain undetected
Perhaps the seeker will ease off,
Forget the ollie ollie in comfree
Leave me stowed away.
Much later, I could creep into safety
Call a truce, change spots...
Yet unmarred, the same old rules;
Vicious whispers that ask of unknown.
Meaningful glances and gritted teeth,
The shock of lush green eyes chasing down memory lane.
Wake up, Maple. Wake up.
But I wouldn’t, and it didn’t matter.
Because the stabbing whispers would continue inside;
Dueling emotions I long ago left at bay.
Reside there, waiting.
Counting.
Watching.

*Ready or not,
Here
We
Come.