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Some days
I just want
to strangle
the world.

A bottle
of whiskey
and a well
of anger

        say:

Back off.

Today is one
of those days.

  ~mce

my thoughts
   go wild
synapses flash
   in syncopated fright

left brain
   against the right

powers of reasons
battling fears
   unleashed
   from primal memories released
   by an unwatchful intellect
   relinquishing control
   in tired slippage
   at the end of day

I NEED YOU

Embers (2).  
  

Can't talk, can't swallow...
there's a block somewhere
i turn to the other side
new fields.....unknown skies
make hands and mind, busy with new chores...new projects
learn to breathe slow...in a rhythmic flow

eyes look up...trying to find my kite among those, flying high,
with a begging glimpse...sent with prayers

the hours go by...so...very...slow
a distraction is most welcome
while waiting, for things to work out on their own.  
while...waiting...
trying to be feisty...determined...in exerting efforts
to cleanse a steamy, foggy mind..intoxicated
with highfalutin truths, and plans that come...and go
they surface....then hide....they confuse
affecting those innocent: one, two, three...even more...

deep within are demons that struggle
to overcome each other...
....dancing with the flame...
so untamed
so alive
soaring inside
not at all like embers dying,
they're all fired up, sharp-edged...hurting
singe-ing innards
ahh...still can't breathe...it burns inwards
possessing throat and voice...can't speak
slowly, the airs turn bleak

how i so want to shout to the Heavens
just this once, to beg...for my own manna
to ask for more fresh air
make sure patience never wanes
to bake and strengthen under the hot sun,
the tiles and stones of my concrete wall
i ask for more beams and rays...i don't want to fall
i ask.......for red-orange embers
.......to permanently brighten
my charcoal-black skies...



Sally


Copyright October 9, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

When a poet taketh a pen
And writeth a stanza or line;
It's as if we're junkies
Shooting dope, getting high.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

I was always warned
About the monsters below the bed
But no one ever told me
About the demons in my head

I used to always run
From the creatures in the night
But the true evils I can't run from
For it's my mind I have to fight

I thought the monsters were real
And they scared me, so I'd hide
But now I know, the evils I can't see
Are a much much bigger deal

I feel like I'm drowning
But I can see others breathing

And somehow
That's my fault

It's like if I could just learn to be normal
Everything would be okay

And back to the drowning thing;
It's like I'm just inches from the surface
But I don't have the energy to reach it

But I also feel like I'm burning
And freezing
All at once

I know that makes no sense,
But it's like being so cold,
Your insides are on fire

I feel like I'll never be enough
Like everything is pointless
And I have no energy
But I can't sleep at night

Like,
I haven't been posting
On this site
Because I couldn't find the strength
But now I'm posting
In a last attempt to hold on

And it feels like being sick
Like, you know you're going to die
And you know it will be soon
You just don't know when

And it's pointless
I'm pointless
Life is pointless
Everthing is pointless

And I don't know what to do

I'm dying,
Please,
Someone help me...

This is how I feel
I don't know what it is
But this is how I feel

(I'm so sorry)