I wish I could stop all the time around me.
But keep moving, myself.
So I could have time.
And see it all.
And get better.
And know what to do.

It's not an option.
So I have to do these things
while everyone keeps moving.
Which makes it all more complicated.
And confusing.
And hard.

Please know I hear your offers for help.
And appreciate them.
But I cannot accept.
Helping me is just not something that will actually help me.
I have to sort this,
with out anyone else.

But...
It's so loud.
And Oh!
It's too much.
The white interference.
A symphonic cacophony.
And I'm just more (and more)
lost than before.
Caught in a tide.
Frantic to hide.
Drowning.
And I want to stop.
Breathing.

Yours,

Trouble

I'm trying, I swear.
I'm stuck. Trying not to dispair.
It's bitter cold, inside this whole affair.
Frozen words, the only repair.

Help is near.
But I'm swallowed in fear.
Inside out, not one tear.
So close, yet so far, from my soughten cheer.

My instincts abandoned.
My emotions are stranded.
I'm at the precipice of where I've landed.
And nothing is ok, from where I'm standing.

I'm unfolding again.
I watch it begin.
So hold on my loves,
For the girl within, (the original sin).

I've woken up haunted by the ghosts of my own demons.
An ominous presence lurks just outside the edges of my peripheral vision.
The impending chaos hovers over my head like an untapped thunder cloud.
The fragile calm inside my head is eerily similar to an abandoned hospital.
Each room holding the possibility of a new fear,
Threatening to burst forth like a jack-in-the-box.
I know I've arrived.
There's no direction, no forks left in this road.
I must move forward.
My next step will take me right off the edge of this cliff.
I can't see the bottom, but somehow know that once I reach it, I'll survive.
The forces holding me back are the vacuum of a vortex.
******* with all their might,
pulling me back to the past.
That past.
That déjà vu.
That endless pulse of a lifeless cycle.
Just one step.
Inches!
I will myself to move,
Paralyzed in my current existence.
The nightmare is a lie,  
I am awake.
This is the lull,
This is the calm before the storm.

She is breaking.
There's a void in her tracks
and no light ahead.
The conflict between love lust and love lost
is waging it's war on her fleshy shores.
She can't seem to choose a side,
it all looks the same.
"It's a trap" she chokes.

She is freezing.
Her frigid heart is icing over
and her brain is going numb.
A vicious cycle of meandering
through brackish monotony -
looking for a map -
leads to where it all began.
Repeat.
"Nothing changes" she sighs.

She is vanishing.
Whispered honesties go unheard
amidst the cacophony of cross talk
and empty words.
Her absence goes unnoticed
as a silvery ghost of her
robotically relives her daily deeds.
"Anchored in reality" silently.

She is caving.
Breaking down like glass in a relentless tide,
Little pieces of her
are left to join the countless sand.
She's finding there's no escape
from this earthly purgatory
for the damaged and ******.
"There has to be more than this."

Absent body, absent form.
Absent absolutely,
As if you were ne'er born.

Absent voice, absent deeds.
Absent frames,
Of histories ne'er seen.

Absent opinion, absent feeling.
Absent choice,
There's nothing left to be.

Absent, me.

Silently, "I need to tell you something."
I approach. Falter, walk away.

I need to break this bond I have with silence,
This unhealthy affair I have with solitude.

I haven't even the energy to pull the words up from my stomach.
I heave,
Retching out nothing but bile and air.

I have so many things to say,
Passing fruitlessly through the space between my ears.

Speaking of space, that seams to be where I exist.
It's either that, or this is Purgatory.

Hell.
Too much conscience to be clinically depressed,
Too far gone to be "normal",
Nothingness.

"This is what it feels like to be a ghost."
To no one, again.

When mighty symbols clashed
The Universe was born
The Minstrel Strummed
The Piper Hummed
And the Wizard blew his horn.

The Great Game had begun
Chaos burst onto the stage
To the tune of war
Peace reigned no more
Space and Time, came of age.

Kings, Queens and Bishops
Seek a sacrificial Pawn
A Rook, a Cosmic Knight
Darkness against the Light
When the Wizard, blew, his horn.

© Paul Chafer 2014