Thanks to you I can hear what I think,
And thanks to that my sanity bleeds.
So because of my thoughts I'll have to drink
To wash away all of my bad deeds.
I can't take my depressing thoughts,
The darkness takes me in and tells me what I'm not;
It's the light that screams forget me not,
I guess I'm not who I thought.
The lack of sight is from the lack of light,
The voices in my head thrive at that time.
I’ve never been a fan of the night,
Or a fan of this stupid, every other line rhyme.
The cause of my mind’s insanity,
Is the darkness in which I live and breathe
It’s slowly killing me,
And causing me to lose my sleep
With no hope to carry on;
But along with my sleep, in the endless night I weep;
There's no where I can find to belong.
I find peace within my misery;
The darkness will always take over,
It will take all of my sanity, every part of me,
But it's the light that keeps me mentally sober;
There is hope, because the darkness always comes to an end,
And the black of the night will give me up.
The light I will depend,
The darkness it will disrupt .
The light reminds me of who I am.
It's the dark that I will always fight,
Until the night swallows me whole again,
I’ll have to depend on the light.

There's a first time for everything, I guess

My initiation to the cult of harm came last night
After I'd made sure everyone had gone to bed
Crept over by the window and moonlight
Placed my arm on the altar in front of me
Mechanically, efficiently swabbing it with alcohol
Scent sterile
For even in this, I will hold onto the pretense of a rationalist

I deride myself, tell myself I'm just going through with it because it's what people would expect from the depressed
That I could stop myself easily and so it's my fault if I don't
But god, I want to lose control so badly

The needle skitters across my skin and I shiver
It dances swirls along my arm
You don't need blood and scars for pain

It scrapes angrier against my skin
And a blissful silence pierces my head
As my own voice fades from between my ears

It's a trance-like happiness
A closed-eyed, fluttering-lashes smile
A beautiful pain throbbing, bringing me back to myself
I could have stayed up hours on that one taste of losing control
But this was just an initiation so I dragged myself away

There's not a trace the next day
Except in my mind where I hunt for all acceptable forms of pain
Push on your bruises, a friend advised
Pencil tips, pens

I stop myself
I resist
I said I wasn't going down this path

I'm on my own in August, I only have to make it to then
Then help, so no more of this

I wait until everyone falls asleep again
And though I am exhausted, stumble toward the moonlight
Sterilize, needle in hand, ready to dance

I refuse to go any farther, I tell myself

Death laughs from inside my head
Baby steps he snickers and
Isn't that what you said last time, doll?

There's a first time for everything after all

I won't,
I reassure the needle tracing kisses across my skin.
I'm fine.

How do we know
The reasons for coming here?
What if we feel too little,
About things much bigger than us?
And maybe I led you here,
Where you don’t want to be.
Maybe there is a hole
So dark inside of me.
What if you see, what if you see….

But there are a thousand beats
Out there in the city’s heart,
Out there in the oceans crash,
In the silence of your eyes.
In the sound of this dark.

So maybe we’ll just be here,
In the darkness that we share,
Safe from the light
That can expose the feelings,
Smaller than us, but bigger than this.
The things of indifference,
That we wrap into our embrace,
As we undress the souls within,
Because something is better than nothing.

And what if you see,
What if you come to know me,
And in that you learn,
Of all the things that make me burn.
Or what if you don’t see,
What if you can’t find me in me…

And if I am wrong,
If I have brought you here
Into the space laden with grit,
Then we can have tonight,
Before we kiss beneath the sunlight,
One last touch as we separate.

Gentle breeze engulfing every bit of
Sadness that was left it blew away
With the salt air and flocks of seagulls
Under the warmth of my children's palms
Loving heat the best of all things I ever created
Taking the moments one at a time and
Forever wishing to be more present
Yet feeling a tinkling of distant thought
The grey area of fatal uncertainly
Ever pulling in some ironeously
Self-destructive direction no amount of
Education could possibly eradicate
A glimps of the deadly silhouette the one
My insanity wished to befriend
She is here inexplicably near or is she not?
Was she ever not? that is a better way to place the question
Strange and creepling I know she is wishing
As maybe I am in some deep down irrational cave where
Fear decides to embody the joy of motherhood
Maternal towards that which never wished me well
By definition untrustworthy never proving me wrong
Yet in this vast sensory symphony by the sea
The attraction of my singularity to the core of all things
Is only beyond my comprehension
Yet forever existing in accord with some universal order
And I wish I saw her eyes

LS:   This place is desolate
Where darkness ***** at your pupils
And infuses your lungs with a cocktail
Of cold and despair
Amongst the mistletoe and bells ringing
You hear a quiet echo of
Isolation that has no shape
Unexplained, ever mysterious
Fearesome lack of a vital link
To hold your feet down on the plane
Familiar to countless faceless strangers
And familiar faces alike
Where willingly you could join
In a silly dance around the circle
Outlined many spiraling ages ago
And feel at ease and ONE

And to the sound of choral
I could fly up with crows
And see it all from
Unattainable
High
Up there in the milky clouds
But
Nature is so uniformally ordered and
Strange as it is no law contains
This spirit so eager to escape

WW: I hear the darkening silence echo
And drone in the northwood stillness.
The forest treetops lurching south
Into the memory of sunlight
Crowns bending unbroken,
Grasping unspoken,
To behold the waning daylight

While the spell of darkness cast deprives,
It opens up the craving soul

This is the naked truth,
This is the light
Oozing from graying monotone
Spilling from cracks between the pause,
Betwixt the shapeless lines of poetry’s refrain …

For life is not a work of art,
The colour a fleeting moment cannot last
And the paradise of going somewhere else
Still so far away

wildish

poetry eludes, hides where I cannot go
leaves me bereft, mourning in stale clothes
black as night unable to find my way
my mind closed up, a crab in its shell,
the tide washes in and the Sun rises
but no Sea or Sun touches my rag worn soul.

Its 11:30 at night. You, lovely you, talking about killing yourself while all I picture are your loose fitting shirts and dimples.

If dying was simple, everybody would have done it.

Nobody talks about the truth of overdosing. You'll be on the floor, puddle of ***** underneath your cheek, the last meal you ever ate stuck to your face, you'll never have felt so weak in your life, even when downing a bottle of downers. Hallucinate until you suffocate on bile. Or your heart stops beating. Or your lungs breathe themselves backwards, inside out. Your brain will be alive for 3 minutes, just enough time to regret it, 100 times, outside your own cold, twitching body. Mom will find you, fall to her knees, call dad from downstairs, and black out in grief.

It's not pretty. Your funeral will be messy. People you barely remember (a girl who had a crush on you in kindergarten, the person you told you were depressed that couldn't bring themselves to listen, didn't want to believe it, the girl who taught you to cut your wrists like that) will cry over your body like it was their own. They'll feel tears soak shirt, after shirt, after skin, after shirt. They'll feel your voice on the back of their neck in cold spells and hot flashes for years. Mom will wake up from nightmares, call dad, he's drinking.

And here you are, thinking it wouldn't matter.

I picture your loose shirts and dimples and how simple it would have been to say nothing, never let you brand my heart with anything but a weeks worth of deep regret in a month or two, maybe three, however much longer you can stand heartbreak. But it's not like that, I'm stronger than that. And you are too, you are too.