Even birds look ominous,
and are.

The pasty trees disclose
no silence:
rook-voice
dandifies this March.

Inside my skull
a hair-line fracture shifts.

The mind’s thin powders
function slowly,
doused in tears.

You stare incredulously
when the bullet’s wild velocity
has entered you.

Your eyes scorch dry,
and slump.

A leaf, a leaf, how queer to think
That trees discard their precious leaves.
While people fear their thinning hair,
A tree’s lifeblood glides through the air.

A child awaits the coming fall,
“The leaves, mommy, they’ve lost them all.
I’m bald and bare, these trees are me.”
In silent death, she grins with glee.

A leaf, a leaf, how queer to think
These trees release frond in a blink.
A mindless shelling to the wind,
The Trees of Winter, **** and trimmed.

That child finds herself a friend;
In naked bark, she can pretend
A tree can shelter her from rain
That showers down in forms of pain.

A leaf, a leaf, how queer to think
These children’s minds form paper links
Like leaves that twirl through steady breeze.
A little girl with brown eyes sees

A future where tree branches sway
In Barren Land, an air’s melee
With wooden fingers shaking hard.
A tree so scared to break in shards.

A child’s dream is soon realized
To be her life; unauthorized.
“These trees, mommy, they shake like me.
Why must strong leaves from these Trees leave?

                Why does my hair fall from my head?
                Did God make me so sick I shed?”

I always thought
The tiny little creatures
That we call hamsters
Were adorable
When they run on the tiny wheel

That is
Until I realized that
I'm the hamster
Running, running, running
But going nowhere

My anxiety propels me
To run, run, run
My instinct is to run away
But, just like the small creature
It just loops around me

I push it away
And it gets worse
And it just snowballs
Growing bigger

And bigger

And BIGGER

Then I'm stuck
Spinning so fast
On this hamster wheel
Round and round and round

I'm going faster than the speed of light
And I can't process things
But I brought this upon myself
By thinking, I could run away in the first place

Stupid
Stupid
Stupid
Stupid

I am so stupid
I have a mental illness
And it's not going away
No matter where I run

It's like a small child
Clinging to my leg for dear life
No matter what I do
That **** thing is with me

I can tell
That people are getting sick of me
I feel it
A feeling I'm all too familiar with
This is the feeling
That tells me to prepare for the storm
Because they are getting ready to leave

Just like a hamster
It's cute at first
But the squeaky wheel
Slowly drives one insane
And it's not so cute anymore

At first
People pitied me
As they tried to help me
But I continue
To use my anxiety
As a reason for my dysfunction
And it's driving everyone insane

At this point
I want to shut down
Stick a knife in my temple
And **** my brain
So I can think
But I won't
Because I have WAY too much to live for

So my next best option
Is to shut people out
And get the **** done

Alone

Because that's what I'm best at

It was stupid to ask for help
In a war against myself
That no one else sees
Because that's what pushes people away

They see me
For the monster I actually am
With my constant anxiety
And horrible depression
And they get overwhelmed
And leave

So the best thing I can do
Is lock this up
Put on a happy face
And pretend nothing is wrong
Lik I've done for almost 17 years now

I can't lose more people
I just can't handle the heartbreak
And I'm afraid
That my catastrophic brain
Will slowly destroy
The relationships I've worked so hard to build

So here I go
Just gotta hold my breath
Smile
Hold my head up high
And pretend I'm okay
Because that's the only way
To fight this impossible war

Fake it until you make it

*Right?

Feed her the scraps
of your being.
She will eat it up
without thinking twice.
But she will still be
hungry.

Feed her the lies
or whatever is convenient
She doesn't mind to pick out
the gristle
because every piece of it
is attached to a morsel
of sweet
delight.

Feed her the silence of
unspoken discontent
the empty eyes
the empty bed
the thrills that serve as
distraction
because you can't bear to hear
the voice
that rings inside
your skull.

Like a dog, she
waits
with pleading eyes
and an endless appetite
for you.

But even the most
unfortunate mutt
deserves more than
a full belly,
but also
a mind
at ease.

And the wind will keep blowing
And the trees will keep growing
And the birds will keep singing
And the vine will keep clinging

And the cold will keep biting
And the storm will keep fighting
And the days will keep passing
Because nothing waits for anybody

Lonely hearts beat the loudest;
They yearn to be heard
They mean to be seen

Lonely nights feel the coldest;
The bed as winter’s head
Conscience as winter's ice

Lonely days seem the longest;
All plans like barren lands
All desires like burning fires

Lonely thoughts are the darkest;
No visions, only excisions
No destiny, only entropy

I never needed you,
not to write.
A simple replacement in lieu
of her. To reignite
that flame of my creative vessel.
Fuel to the fire.
Emotions with which to wrestle.
Your licentious abandonment seemed dire,
But now I need no fuel for this fire.

The flame is I.
With hungry, flickering tendrils, roaring.
As it shall be till the day I die.
At once ravaging and warring.
At once outpouring and restoring.