i dread the day you learn
for the first time that
you can't just love all
the darkness in me away

and no matter how much
you care i will still toss
and turn at night and scars
might still appear on my skin

i dread the day you realize
that you can't cure me
and sometimes all you can do
is stand next to me and
hold my hand through fog
pouring out of my ears so black
and thick we can't even see
each other's faces

i dread the days i can't
get out of bed
the days you want to
take me out and all
i can manage is a prettified
shell of myself

i dread the day you learn
that sometimes no matter
how hard i try i still can't
pull myself together

the day you learn that
there isn't an answer
you can give that will
save me from my fears

you aren't the first person
who has tried to love the
darkness inside away
my family and friends
have given it their all
but someday you too will learn
that if love could
cure mental illness
the world would be
a much better place

To be captured, surrounded, enclosed-
To be humiliated, punished, undone-
Become a savage,
Become a stranger,
Seek revenge but receive none.
Fear not pain nor shame nor death;
Reward speed and strength and stealth.
Find the light by night or day-
Revenge is mine, a simple price to pay.

You twist my words until they break.
Stick glue on the bottom of my shoes
so I can’t move.
And cover my eyes with a heavy fog
so I can’t see the truth.
I’m putty in your hands,
too weak to stand up to your never ending schemes.
You find ways to bring me further down the confusing hole,
and before I can catch my breath,
the damage has already been done.

But despite the hold you have on me,
someone else has the stronger grasp.
With each whisper from Hell you tell,
I hear a voice that is far louder,
telling me I’m okay.
I’m not to be ashamed.
As broken as everything inside of me is,
He can put the puzzles pieces back together,
even the ones that are bent and bruised.
You can try to bring me down again,
and though you may succeed for awhile,
He’ll always find a way to get through.

Mark A. Williams
                            SEPTEMBER 14, 1962 – JULY 23, 2018

___________________­

Wow Mark,

Was so, so saddened to hear this news. I haven't seen you in over ten years, but as kids, we had some amazing adventures, didn't we? Partying, camping and swimming at the Hudson lime pits. Mowing down on Pizza and pitchers of Pepsi (and as we grew up, BEER!) at Pizza Hut. (We knew the numbers to ALL the songs on that jukebox by heart!) Hanging out and looking at the stars through Budvido's telescope, listening to Doctor Demento. Laughing hysterically as we ran through Monty Python skits as everyone looked on in total puzzlement because THEY wouldn't discover them until YEARS later!

Building underground forts in the North Woods. You, Budvido, Zeke and I playing pinball at 7-11 for hours and hours. Watching Bands, chasing girls and playing Foosball or Pool at the Touch of Class Teen Club. You gave me my first Imported beer . . . a Lowenbrau. I will always owe my passion for those German beers to you and it was fitting that Budvido bestowed you with that moniker.

All through Jr. High, sharing a seat on the school bus. You, Matt, Tom, Buddy and I cruising around late night on our bikes for hours. Hanging around in the Jasmine Lakes sign with hijacked beer or getting free bags of Burgers from Burger Queen when they closed at night! Jousting with shopping carts on our bikes in the Winn-Dixie parking lot. Sitting up all night in Jimi's room after climbing in through the window or going on endless space cruises with him and Raymond in the Toyota.

(RIP Jimi Carlsen)

Sneaking into the nudest Colony and skinny dipping! Always cracking up at the school lunch table. Swimming in my pool and terrorizing my sister and her friends. (Allegedly) Trashing that crook Fast Eddie's produce stand after he refused to pay us for a full day of picking watermelons!

Good times, indeed . . . Some of my most precious memories.

I can only pray that you know that I wouldn't trade my youth or you in it for anything in the world and you will be sadly missed, Lowenbrau, my old friend.

I hope that where you are, your beers are ice cold and that you and Jimi aren't having to glue the Hookah  back together.

Jeff Gaines
July 28, 2018

I want you to know that
no matter how
                irrational
                                  ­illogical
             dissociated
                                 disconnected
                 sporadic
                                 scattered
                    erratic
                           ­      brusque
          anticlimatic
                                 abrupt
        idiosyncratic
                                 volatile
   temperamental
                            and
                   ­               fickle
are your emotions.
To me,
they are valid;
they are whole;
they suffice.
Because,
you are only as absurd as you believe you are.

And absurdity's boundaries stretches linearly,
into immemorial time.

all my life I’ve felt
never

    good

         enough

she’s skinnier than me

     she has better skin
 than me
          she has prettier hair than me

I’m always second best

      first loser 

runner up

      second thought 

this marks the start of my journey

to self acceptance

Fake a smile, it's all they'll see,
the tears are real, the smile's not me.

Because he broke, my fragile heart,
and yet that boy's still a work of art.

How could he do that to me?
I still love him, why can't he see?

Now off he runs, my replacement calls
and at the mention of her, my heart falls.

It's been some time, a lengthy while
Since I've written poems freestyle
Rhymes, you see, are pretty things
But they're like birds with broken wings

But when freestyle starts feeling fake
And no longer relieves my ache
I take refuge in dear old rhyme
Till my music can truly chime

The best mistake I made
Was believing
as a child
In the idyllic world
Of pixie dust strewn fairy tales
Laughing at the prospect
Of a strange world
Where happiness
Wasn't always there to stay
Where the triumph of good over evil
Didn't necessarily happened
Where those who professed
To love you dearly
Didn't always turned distant
Where sleeping beauties
Didn't always woke up
Where the shining sun
Didn't always warmed your frostbitten skin
Where a beating heart
Wasn't always a sign of life
Where being older
Didn't always meant
Being stronger
Where bruised knees and scarred wrists
Weren't always a consequence
of slipping on the stairs
Or tripping on the sidewalk
I happily believed
In a world
Which I realized
When I grew up
Could only exist
In the realms
Of my heartfelt dreams
But could never be real