these hard words

are the only fruit my hard-rocked soiled-soul produces,
my alliterations secrete no beliefs, quench nothing,
the poems I don’t write are my most successful,
the songs that comforted, now find no-entry orifice

skin cold wet clammy sweating unsuitable for tilling,
my horizons natural, felled, underground swallowed,
replaced by the man-made barriers, guardrails of words
leaving body, utterances shoutout, exiting non-permissioned

lurch from one guilt-carrying, black leather-straps wrapped,
round my arm, to the ones strapped around my temple,
honorable acts owed, responsibilities fear foundering
unfulfilled lists, griefs, signs of cowardice, badges shameful

deep sighs, open groans, me mean asking questions of myself,
laughed off, city noises turned off, silences of colorless colden,
the sirens loudest inside reverb endlessly, still give nothing away,
a final exam, an all sided, annual checkup reveals nothing but


these hard words

7:48am 10/15/19

read this slowly
in the intent to feel as though
your big toe stands on top of the highest peak
and attempt to spin
sweeping the air
and you are allowed to smile as wide as the sky above
and you may grasp the blades that make your shoulders
feeling safe,
you might feel alone.

Did I ever tell you
Why I stopped drinking?
Why I am so terrified
To take a sip alone?
How that one time after class
My heart was broken
And I skipped the glass
And drank straight from the bottle?
How I crumbled into a ball
Under my favorite blanket
My mind screaming through the halls
Fighting off the demons trying to drown me?
Of course I always want to die
That's something I've learned to live with
But never before in my life
Had I known that I could give in.
Yet there I lay crying
Wasted with a racing mind
Begging to give in to dying
But instead I went to sleep.
So when my depression intensifies
And I run to my substances
I am so terrified
So alcohol is the last option.
Because it could be my last decision.

running a finger down the spine of an old book
worn pages filled with stories and adventures
certain parts bookmarked with dog eared pages

a letter written with love
a postcard from a relative
keepsakes tucked in the back of the book

lines and paragraphs illustrated in detail
cathedrals created by phrases and carefully crafted words
life brought to reality with commas, periods and question marks

love once made this tome come alive
imagination kept it breathing and evolving
carelessness and ignorance cut off its airways and organisms

dust coats the brittle spine
mould suffocates its body and soul

I forgot how it felt.
The aching of a chest as I lean over my patio wall.
Having an affinity with the dust in my throat
That burns along side of my eyes
And you dont know,
But it was worse when you left.

Five.
My dark blue comforter.
My closet door.
The light switch.
The cigarbox on my night stand.
The ***** laundry in my hamper.

I forgot how it felt.
To not breathe when trying to catch as much of the stale air in my bedroom as I could.
Residing there were residual hearts in residual pieces.

Four.
My sheets
My bed frame
The rough carpeting
My cat who disappeared because of the noise.

I forgot how it felt to feel like youre dying.
When anxiety turns into losing your ******* ****.
Because you lost it and you're alone.

Three.
The hum of a ceiling fan that barely works
Scratching of a pen on paper
My breathing and soft whispers that dont matter.

I forgot how it felt.
To feel useless and filled with an intense self loathing
Because I saw your eyes lined with red and watched you walk away - my voice not carrying to call you back.

Two.
My (your) pillow.
My comforter.

I forgot how it felt
To close the door and fall to the floor because I didnt work anymore.
And to know, buried deep under this weeping,
That you wont forgive me.

One.
Salt.

I forgot how it felt.
To feel like I'm dying.

Fraud happiness, can no longer pretend
Alone in this world, no real friends
Living within a dream, can’t wake up
Giving in to life, no way for a shape up
Losing balance with thyself, no living purpose
Demolished by close ones, everlasting feeling worthless
See into your soul, how can one be this empty
Trying to move on but death is tempting
Rivers cried, pain overbearing
Existence died, life over whelming
Eyes open outside, soul’s dead asleep within
Unable to understand, most impossible to convince
Nothing without you, the lifeline for my heart beat
Lost for so long, awaiting the perfect eye to see

When one was never two
And the reverse doubled
Becomes positive,
I remember links to an
Abandon page
And the effluent nature
Of the voice,
Spoken at odds at the edge
Of yesterday.

Where have we gone,
The soul is A tired old man
Forever told in a web of time,
Take this away,
Numb the years gone cold
In a river one ends
And begins in the sky's
Tearful rejoice.

That I took a deep breath
And found a complicated
Sigh;
I often wonder of the
Two existences,
When life can smile
At death's birth.