Sometimes,
bravery
can be
as simple
as deciding
to love
again.

if a forensic
          scientist
fresh from
a crime scene
          were to
investigate
our woods
         & forests
would they
find blood
spattered
         patterns  
scattered over
chestnut trees
in deepest
      Mississippi,
a crimson
            history,
years of
          brutal toil
embedded in
the soil,
where children
played only
             the day
before,
perhaps if we
      all could see
we might tread
a little differently,
         investigate
our own hearts
meticulously

Moving closest to the next step of life
Not thrilled but expecting

Hope Almighty
Hold my hands still

And wants ever to hold
And lead..

i

This is for thou both miss Vicki, and miss Beth Stclair, true poet's
Miss Beth StClair, thy sonnet style, brings back the old smile I see;
Miss Vicki, writing of love so quickly, so beautifully inspiring
Miss beth, thy word's got me flying I'll buyeth thy book real soon.

ii

Miss Vicki, thou art an old soul made of gold, a home amongst homes, as thou liveth in mine state, miss beth, I'd seeith thee if I go to England, amongst the Beatle street's we'll speaketh of ourn living's, and reciteth sonnet's of Shakespearian knowledge.

iii

Miss Vicki, thy jargon is wrapped like a bouquet, glazed with honey, thine words art displayed, people in this world like Thee I do prayeth, that thine life wilt be joyful, and harmonious in thy tommorrow, beth, I feeleth thine wild's, as the sixties thou hadst.

iv

Beth StClair, if it was back in the day, we'd be wonderful friend's, thou wouldst hath watched me on a stage, singing poetic thunder, miss Vicki, when thou feeleth down and under, continue to write thy creator in thy works, and I promise thou both, thou both hath

A friend in me......





©Brandon nagley
©Miss Vicki/miss Beth StClair dedication for both of you (:::::
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Tired of runnin’
And fussin’
And sparin’ the details.

We got it good now,
A house, a family, you can go to school.
You won’t learn about us, baby,
They don’t give lessons on strange fruits.

The road derails, your smile retains:
Hope.
I pray you’ll never see blood on the leaves.

My aim today
Is simply to
Make you smile
It's what I do
As you sit
Behind your desk
Take a moment
To digest
This little rhyme
It's sent with love
To wrap you up
Just like a glove
Your day's mundane
Your job's a bore
But soon you'll walk
Out of the door
Into the sun
Where lovers kiss
Under the trees
And you'll feel bliss
But if all else fails
I hope with grace
I've put a smile
Upon your face!

(C) Pixievic

I have been told multiple times that I talk about my mental health issues way too much. I have been accused of sharing my story to gain attention. I have been accused of using my past as a way to get people to feel sorry for me. However, that could not be further from the truth. I talk about my mental health issues openly because I know what it's like to be alone and suffer in silence. I do it for the ones who are struggling and who do not have a voice out of fear of being told to shut up. I am not the one that needs attention. The topic of mental health issues are what needs attention. I do not need anyone feeling sorry for me. I don't feel sorry for me. Everyone goes through some kind of hell in their lives  and my battle with mental health is my hell. The ones who complain about me speaking out are always the ones who get off on telling people to be quiet. They are the kind of people who are ignorant and are so quick to judge issues they know nothing about. I refuse to be silenced. I refuse to let others who are in my shoes to be silenced. I refuse to let negative people get to me. I spent so long living in silence as well as many others trying to cover up the mental health issues in our world today because it makes people uncomfortable. It's time to speak up. It's time to be educated on these issues. It's time to make a difference so we can save more lives.