If I push far enough
Past insanity,
Will I become sane?
Or have I already accomplished,
A feat so brave,
So daring,
In those early hours,
As I drifted, half-conscious,
Aware of my different state,
Aware of myself soaring,
I was a bird, you know,
If that’s not sane,
I don’t know what is.

Once there was a little duck,
Who felt so all alone.
Little did the ducky know,
He could just pick up the phone.
The little duck had no hope,
He was filled with such despair.
He felt his life was purposeless,
And he was a waste of air.
So one day the little duck
Dove to the bottom of the pond.
He was prepared to leave this world,
And see what was beyond.
But another duck saw him dive,
And dove right after him.
She brought him up,
And hugged him close,
And they went for a swim.
She told him that she knew his pain,
And used to feel the same,
But together they could swim all day,
And close friends they became.
The little duck no longer felt
Quite so all alone,
And with his new friend by his side,
This world now feels like home.

Synapses are firing,
The pain is being processed,
Where has it started?
Endorphins are released,
The pain killer is searching for the source.
How silly, this system,
It cannot recognize this kind of pain,
The source is not inside,
but outside,
The source is all around me,
The pain of humanity,
and no amount of vicodin,
or endorphins,
Can stop it,
or calm it.
It is there, infinite,
Consuming me.
I am silent in this moment,
As I use all my senses to quiet the world,
I force myself back into my body.
There, I can believe, in only myself.
There, I can ignore,
The pain.

They ask;
“What’s gotten into you?”
If only I knew.
A darkness,
Or a light,
I cannot be sure.
It’s spreading through me,
******* it’s way through my system,
Attaching to my spine,
Becoming my cells,
A replica of me,
but different.
Replaced every so often,
I am new again.
Just like you,
But not at all.
You cannot see to the core of me,
To the center where the silver flashes,
And where the imagination is rampant.
My heart is my own,
And I finally answer;
“All that has gotten into me,
Is myself.”

Creativity,
It’s like lightning.
I’m told it doesn’t strike in the same place twice,
But it strikes me over,
And over,
And over.
In the dark of midnight,
In the in between,
It has no sense of time.
It cares not about my tired mind.
The words like pounding rain,
Bouncing around my skull.
I cannot shut it off,
I cannot silence it.
They waver like a scream in my throat,
Building,
And I must release it.

I wake up
A scream in my throat
An echo of a dream
Tearing the seams
My sanity is waning
The darkness is fading
I come back to reality,
Is this reality?
Or have I woken in another dream?
because without you here,
That’s what I hope it is,
And I fear,
You’re really gone.
Is it possible?
Close my eyes,
I’ll dream of you, until
Until I feel your flesh brush mine
Until I’m sure that the lies
My mind
has developed are just that,
a sick fantasy,
because reality can’t be real,
without you.

I want to feel the cold and let it seep within
Until my blood is a slush in my veins
Then I will thaw myself out by the fire
and pretend that the warmth is you

And when the spring comes and the world is alive
And the breeze brushes my hair to the side
And the grass tickles my arms
I’ll pretend that it’s all you

I’ll go out at night in the dark
And let strangers hold my hand and make me smile
And maybe I’ll forget who they are
Because I’ll only see you

When my heart echos with the pain of the past
And the future holds no more room for us
I’ll close my eyes and dream a while
Because in my dreams there’s you

And when I finally realize I’m holding on
To a ghost who is terrorizing me
Who I let drown me and pull me down
Then maybe I’ll let go of you

Until then I think I’ll sit here
And wonder how I could ever be so naive
As to think that a fragile thread could never break
As to think that I would never lose you

How silly it seems now in hindsight
Wondering if this pain is real or if it’s what I think I should feel
Shouldn’t I just know?
I can do better than you.