Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Helen 2d
We built this city
On the blackened ash
Of white splintered bones
Thrown out like trash
On piles of rubble
Never built to last
Sleeping with one eye open
And one foot in the past
With walls made of glass
And foundations of false hope
We built this city
Hoping for synchronicity
Never realising it was a slippery *****!
(C) Helen Doogan 23.05.2019
Oct 2018 · 161
I Left Something Out
Helen Oct 2018
I forgot to tell you
as we sat beside each other
on the floor
in front of a puzzle
I knew was flawed
That we’d never get to finish it
because of the missing piece
It was never going to be whole
but it could be perfectly incomplete
Because I forgot to tell you
there was going to be a gap
A great big hole inside the picture
that would never be closed
because the piece was lost
and it was never coming back
So I left something out
when I asked you to sit down
You thought you going to get a complete masterpiece
instead you got an empty space
and we both looked at it
Me with a meloncholy smile
You with a distant frown
You tried to deny the hurt
of the incomplete picture
all I could do was whisper
I know there is a missing piece
but I’m hoping you know how
to make it complete
Jun 2018 · 175
But... Didn’t you die?
Helen Jun 2018
No,
but, Yes
no I didn’t but,
Yes, I did

I died a thousand years ago
alas, my heart did not know it

This heart of mine beat on and on
every breath it took,
with every pitying look,
it tried to sing along

But the notes it sang became discordant
and with every jarring note
I just couldn’t
I could not look, I could not see
what I never wanted to hear
I cannot speak, I will not think
about all that I fear

Did I die?

Yeah... long ago!

It seems like yesterday

Am I dead?

I guess I am

You don’t see me anyway...
Mar 2018 · 165
Crying Blind
Helen Mar 2018
The mind is such an empty place
Where ten thousand people roam
They sing softly in one voice
chanting in the only voice we own

Silently we stare with our eyes closed
whispering into the blackest night
forgetting we were almost there
telling ourselves it’s gonna be alright

Did we never care for ourselves?
When did we stop trying to cry?
While we sit in absolute silence
our soul escapes from our eyes.

The path we took held our redemption
Yet we trampled it beneath our pretension
We pretended it was an easy road
We followed where others showed
It was okay to walk, if you didn’t talk
If you only whispered with your mouth closed
Don’t see, don’t hear, don’t ******* blink
and no one will ever know

How hard it is to breathe underwater
How hard it is to stay afloat
How difficult it is to hold your head up high
While every bone in your body is broke.

When we look into another night
with blind eyes and kaleidoscope sight
We see visions of no one there
Where everyone gasps, but no one cares
and we lay our head upon a pillow of glass
and ask ourself if anyone lasts?

The cuts, they bleed, mixed with the icy river of tears
They wend their way through grooves of time
Carved by age and the incandescence of all our fears
But where they rest, on the face of a mirror
I can only claim them as mine

If only I had known, how the thorns would of grown.
How did they wind around my heart to pierce my eyes?
How did they survive?
Without sunlight, to make me blind?
How did the cancer grow?
I guess I’ll never know.
All I wanted to do was post a poem, it took forever on my phone... Unfuck your **** HP!!!
Oct 2017 · 292
Only I Know
Helen Oct 2017
Only I know all our secrets
All those whispers in the night
Only I know if its worth it
To give up, without the fight

Only I know if I'll talk again
Maybe just an incoherent scream
Only I will know for sure
If it really means anything

Only I know if I'll go there
Down a path of nightmare dreams
Only I know if I will wake again
It's not guaranteed, it seems

Only I know if the path I chose
Was the wrong path that was right
Only I know if I'll be sleeping
With the dreams I have at night

Only I know what you told me
When we both cried each other's tears
Only I know with sacred knowledge
All our hopes and fears

Only I know that I was wrong
And sorry doesn't make it right
Only I know how strong you are
How much you hold on, so tight

Only. I. Know
never wanted you to
Only. I. Should
but...
**So. Do. You
This is for you. You, who never gave up, you who never made it up, you who knows only I know...
May 2017 · 865
Some Day(s)
Helen May 2017
Some days I am happy
Some days I am sad
Some days I just wish
I never had the days I've had
Some days I am crying
Some days I am weak
Some days I am yelling
Some days I am meek
Some days they are pleasant
Some days are truly dark
Some days come so easy
Some days are really hard
Some day I will get over it
Some day I will move on
Some day I will totally get it
Some day I will be strong
Some day it will be over
Some day I will have regret
Some day someone might
love me?
For me
Some day
*but not just yet
I'm thinking, this may be the last days, the very last moments of a once proud soul that's been eaten by the fires of ****... a nubby snack... How ******* hard is it to post a poem here... Some days it's like trying to put shoes on an angry toddler...
Apr 2017 · 1.6k
Let them Go
Helen Apr 2017
When all that is left
is feeling hurt
When it's the only song
you have ever learned
when it's the only tune
you have ever heard

Can you let it go?

Someone once said to me
Let it go, let them free
but they come back,
can't you see?

Should I let them go?

When I let them go
They still follow me
I tried to free them
but can't you see?

They came back to me

and I can't let them go

Oh no,
Oh no!

I won't let them go

Oh no

I won't

Let them go, let them go

Oh no...

When I'm the only light
they have ever known
The only place
they ever called home
When I'm the one
they miss the most

**I won't let them go
I miss my Son so much...
Apr 2017 · 488
Come On Home
Helen Apr 2017
and I was
just standing by
when you just
caught my eye
and as I watched your lips lift
feeling like the ground would shift

you just looked away
taking the sunshine from that day
and now it's dark, I can not see
where'd you go, so far from me?

Because I will
follow you
until the end of truth
you will see me
sitting alone
waiting for you to
come on home


cause you just
walked on by
with a sad smile
that would not lie
tucking your unhappiness
inside yourself
not wanting to share it
with anyone else

don't take that
path for me
I'm right here, can't you see
I'm right there
standing by
You're not alone even when you try

*Because I will follow you
until the end of truth
and you will see me
sitting alone
waiting for you to
come on home
I feel this is a song... I wrote it with music in my head but I don't play an instrument and I can't sing... So it's just a poem really...
Mar 2017 · 477
International Women's Day
Helen Mar 2017
I'm no different from you
I bleed the same red
I cry the same silver tears
That you are able to shed

I applaud you, as a Man
To be able to recognise
That I am able to achieve
any goal that is in your eyes

This is not a day I will celebrate
although it's a day I will acknowledge
It's a day that is insignificant
to women that hold knowledge

We know we had to fight you
Nearly 100 years ago
They were days we were beaten down
But it's not the same, no more

We now have equal rights, equal say
equal pay and equal do
I guess what I want to say to Men
is Thank You

Thank you for your recognition
but we don't need a seperate day
What we truly need in this world
is a harmonious repartee

Like

How are you today?
Why Sir I'm doing fine!
Thank you for the open door.

The pleasure is all mine

Would you like a seat?
No thank you I'm off at the next stop!
Are you in need off assistance?
(without fear I'll drag you off!)


Women just want to feel safe!
Gentleman, if you could just reflect
We don't want a Day of recognition
Just for you to teach your Sons respect
Helen Mar 2017
Months of sweating
vetting every word written
Shivering over all
that remained hidden

Rocking back and forth
Recognising the demons scream
Asking to be fed more
Inside of empty dreams

Then the words, they spill
from cracked and broken lips
bleeding onto tissue paper
inking stains of fatal trips

Then comes the rush
a verbiage of torrential pain
Crouching on a backlit screen
pockmarked with finger stains

The first spike of adrenaline
fizzes inside a broken mind
The churning end to a journey
that has completely left you blind

Collapsing in upon itself
is the high that's found a low
and when the reader is gone
You wonder where you'll go?

Perhaps you'll find a new pusher
Someone else to feed your pain
Someone that will dig that needle
deep
even deeper into the vein
Mar 2017 · 886
This is MY Poem
Helen Mar 2017
When everything is wrong
This will be my poem
This will be the burning voice
A ghost, giving me no choice

This will be my poem
This is how I will hold on
This will be my forever after
All the tears inside the laughter

This is how I will hold on
This poem will make me strong
Even though my heart is stone
This is what I call home

This poem will make me strong
No matter how long I hold on
I will stand here as long as it takes
Willing my soul whole even as it breaks

No matter how long I hold on
Time is useless when it's gone
My soul will be shattered
but pieces may be gathered

Time is useless when it's gone
but it echoes in my song
This will be my poem
I'll forever call it Home
Dec 2016 · 2.1k
Nothing Lasts Forever
Helen Dec 2016
Not one thing!

Not a bottle, nor a song
nor a conversation
could 'ere last too long
Not a heartbeat, nor a rhyme
Never a marriage
not this time
Nothing lasts forever my friend!
Not even the pages we scribe!
Neither oil nor acrylic
even water based leaks
under the test of time
No ink will outlast us
No pencil could describe
either of our loneliness
completely erased by the tide
Nothing lasts forever
The sunset taught me that!
The sunrise fools us into thinking
that the sun will stay where it sat
It's why we keep on going
knowing, nothing will ever last
We die each night only to wake
pretending we forgot the past
Dec 2016 · 253
2016: The End Score
Helen Dec 2016
She closed the door
on another year
that was never hers
from the start
She breathed a sigh
of relief
in the darkness of
her heart
For another year
is not for her
She no longer
has it in her
to pretend
all over again

a Loser
can become
a Winner
Nov 2016 · 560
Perfect Day
Helen Nov 2016
The sky wanted to cry.
The thick roiling clouds of darkness swirling together
while lightening crashed and thunder roared
were laden with moisture,
but the sky didn't know
how to let go.

Much like myself as I sat there
staring at the same sky
All the madness swirling in the darkness,
the emotions crashing together,
my soul roaring in pain,
I sat there with burning dry eyes
Just like the sky
Just. The. Same

Words like “the tank is empty”
was lightning poison in my veins and
“we can still be friends for the kids”
was a deadly jolt to my heart.
I felt my soul being ripped apart.
My dry eyes burned,
staring into a sky
that didn't know
how to let go
and cry.

It was the perfect day for a marriage to die
Helen Nov 2016
Oh little love
Hold that head up
He's really not that
into you
Maybe it's because
you called him
Baby (daddy)* or maybe
in that first conversation
you sent a picture
of your *****

He got that cream
from the cow
what do you expect
him to do now?

Of course he's going to
continue to milk
some ****** cow
for free
but trust me
He's not in love with you
He's just *******
on a tree
marking territory

but you ain't the only bush
in the forest, lovely...

Oh little love
just remember
that **** pic
he sent to you
went through
10 million gigabytes
before it got to you

Little love
I beg of you
of backlit screen
and tattered pride
anonymity
is a great place to hide
even on the darkest night
when your phone screen
is the only source of light
when words are not actions
no real kisses or hugs
The Internet is no place
to find love
Nov 2016 · 366
and then you remember
Helen Nov 2016
it never gets better,
these feelings never change,
with every breath you take
you remember
*they no longer take the same
it's hard to turn around to speak to someone who's no longer there...  I miss you Dad :(
Nov 2016 · 246
conflicted
Helen Nov 2016
I'm
__________

everything
Nov 2016 · 597
Senses
Helen Nov 2016
Life doesn't scent of roses
It feels more like fear
People gaze on
without emotion
never tasting
what they hear
Oct 2016 · 430
Death Meets Us All
Helen Oct 2016
It holds us tightly in it's grip
and grins at us
so tight lipped
It hugs us with a frown
while smiling
upside down
We journey in our living
to the non breathing side
where we sit, reliving
where we want to hide

We never want to know up close
the personal
the utter waste!

But Death,
it can be personal
sitting right there on your face!

You know Death?

It's that awkward party friend!

It's the one that never leaves
*Sticking around to the end
breathe!!! knowing it's not your time... yet
Oct 2016 · 498
Dear Matthew
Helen Oct 2016
don't take my friend too!
It's true
He's just sitting there
to prove
he's crazier
than you
But you can't have him
He's got a lot more
to do
Dear Matthew
please just
pass on through...
I'm in Australia but I have a beloved American brother sitting stoically, waiting for the aftermath, raising a big glass of F U to Matthew... I'm waiting to hear from you bro...
Oct 2016 · 236
and God loses another one
Helen Oct 2016
She stood at the edge of the world
and prayed to a God,
who she knew
could not exist
Wondering how her life
could have come to this

How could he leave her empty
of all emotion except her anger
How dare he stare into her eyes
while the anger slowly strangled her

She welcomed the black clouds
that enveloped her
upon the edge of the cliff
and threw her hands
spread out proud
With a *******
upon her lips

******* God
you pompous ****
You self stylised imposter
******* very much
for deluding humanity
In this space...

*You just lost her
Sep 2016 · 338
deaf and blind
Helen Sep 2016
Once upon a time
he saw with his fingertips
He saw every word spoken
simply by tracing it

Once upon a time
he felt those words by heart
Then he closed his own
and decided it was time to part

Once upon a time
He never saw her face
he could only be guided
by her rhyme

Once upon a time
He sat listening in rapture
but then he left it
all behind

Once upon a time
he felt what she had wrote

Now he just listens
to the words
stuck in her throat

Once upon a time
he would have pulled the words
from her barely beating chest

Once upon a time
she would have coughed them up
just to sit beside him and rest

Once upon a time
they spoke,
they communicated
on a path that was one mind

Once upon a time
she became mute
He no longer
heard her
because he was blind
Helen Sep 2016
I spoke to you in whispers
but you shouted out my shame
My confidence is now just splinters
I can no longer speak your name

At dawn the sun broke my mask
I wore to dance to your tune
Now I'm just a broken mess
for you look down upon as your due

Can we never hear the music again
that was once our beating pulse?
Why is it you're always the one
that sings more quietly than most?

While we blind ourselves
we simply drown with the tide
Echoes of the past reflect only the failures and so shall it always be

Tomorrows promise is a kiss of remorse
just the same, we shall part
Can we leave what was only,
to pretend what never will be?

As you pull me from the depths
I simply leave you waiting
The nightmares will fade
but will the dreams ever again ring true?

So why do we dance to the same old tune?
When the music goes away
do we simply just nod to each other
knowing there's no other day?
At midnight do we excuse ourselves
to slumber separately with our demons?
Or do we simply hold onto
each other
to survive through the next season?

I taste the goodbye upon your lips
I hear our song slowly fade
Can you not simply follow me
to the shore
where new memories could be made?

In bittersweet reprise is our closing
Here do the credits role
Tonight is a moment and it bleeds the memories
Soon only to be pages from our past

Paint this moments portrait,
and stand back, not see the flaws
It is all in the illusion after all

Except for, in the grains of sand
upon which we danced
are the footsteps of our past
just washing away
Do the pages just turn on?
Because if you asked me in the beginning
I would have told you I didn't dance
But you grabbed me and started swaying
without me having a chance
to tell you I can't hear the music
I just move to a certain beat
The illusion is the only thing
that will move me to my feet

Isn't it after all, the flaws,
that will *****
and we will tumble
You may walk away singing,
while I still fumble with the illusion that we danced so pretty
under a fractured moonlight
While I tried to hold onto you
upon a tortured shore
You walked away from me
Leaving me in the dark of night
"So let's sink another drink
Cause it'll give me time to think
If I had the chance I'd ask the world to dance
And I'll be dancin' with myself"
~ Billy Idol
nothing gives me greater joy then to pen words with John. He truly is a master of the craft. Thank you bro <3
Sep 2016 · 643
Hiding the Truth
Helen Sep 2016
I like to dance outside in a storm
because the rain
masks my tears
I like to scream in horror movies
because it's an outlet
for my fears
I like to sit in the cold night air
because it warms
my frozen heart
I like to visit your tombstone
because its where the end
should start
I like to lay down in an open field
because the stars
are always brighter there
I like to sing off key in the shower
because it's where no one
would care
I like to kneel in front of you
because it's almost like
Im praying
I'm sorry that I'm saying good bye
but I just don't feel like
staying
I'd like it if the world had more colour
instead of being so
black and white
I'd like to be here again
to say Good Morning
instead I'll just
say
Good Night
Sep 2016 · 822
Survival
Helen Sep 2016
It's not the enormity
of the tragedy
that marks you
a survivor

It's taking that next breath

THAT
*is survival
Aug 2016 · 302
the question
Helen Aug 2016
Why?*

When that question
bangs against it's cage
and you can feed it no more
Step lightly into the excuses
for they are demon mired
with artifice and ruses
Demons that lay a coup
just outside your mental door
They litter the floor
with bones of regret
picked clean for their answers
Where they sit, waiting for it
they lay a vigil for second chances
When the whisper floats
softly into your ear
only to rattle inside your head
You will remember, year upon year
It was never anything you did
*It was always something you said
Jul 2016 · 306
hurt
Helen Jul 2016
You left me in this desolate place
he said
and my eyes reflected the hurt
full of tears unshed
and maybe I did
Maybe I subconsciously
rearranged the universe
so all the hurts in the world
sat upon his head
In his mind
I was his worst enemy
all the while pretending to be
his friend
Perhaps
I am silently trying
to bring about
the end
it hurts to hear you are the problem, not the solution :(
Jul 2016 · 314
She Never Went Home Again
Helen Jul 2016
Once it was a place of sorrow
where bathing came from hot tears
warmth barely came from Tomorrow
little thought was give to more years

Where eating was swallowing a truth
that was just sawdust coated in lies
Mirrors simply reflected angry youth
all seen through drug clouded eyes

Upon a bed of razor sharp intentions
She painted a heart upon her chest
from the blood that flowed in rivulets
in the indentations of her weakness
She sighed that she did her best

She found herself upon silvery shores
under an incandescent Sun
hoping that she had evaded the laws
condemning her for what she had done

Head thrown back in a field of dreams
Serenity in her tumultuous gaze
Lips curved gently against the screams
so much clarity in a languid daze

She gently caressed coloured flowers
with hands that had never sought to protect
from the constantly brutal storm showers
that raged when she failed to connect

Where once there was only rain
all she could now feel was dry
Where once she was warped by pain
utter tranquility she could not deny

She rebuilt herself in a different place
in a skin that was as hardened as stone
Where her demons could find no trace
far away from all she had known
she never went home again
Jul 2016 · 522
What's New on HP This Week
Helen Jul 2016
A poem, that's not a poem
but gets 2 thousands reads
lands on the Daily
and makes my heart bleed
So much fighting, back biting,
such inverted sense
of there own
proliferate nonsense
Drowning out the artful voices
of the souls that bleed
poetic choices
Sitting in their towers
built from dung
measuring  how meanly
they are hung
while many other voices
chime in and you can't hear the truth
crowing inside the din
it's like an ache in a tooth!

Some truly beautiful poems
that will hold your heart,
most bearing their souls
and simply enjoying the art!
Connecting on a level
that cares little for 'hearts'
just waiting for someone to say
'Hi, I feel what you wrote'
Not caring about figures, or charts

Be you one voice under one name
or one voice under many
If one is a vitriolic persona
rest assured the others are just as ****


I'd have to give HP
a 2/10 this week

Sadly it's impossible to articulate
while being drowned when trying to speak.
Just to wrap it up ;)
Jun 2016 · 618
Beautiful Art
Helen Jun 2016
The Most Beautiful Art
in the world
would have to be
the Mosaic
Sometimes, you have to
break yourself
to remake yourself
and that is the
Most Beautiful Thing
*Ever
Helen Jun 2016
When I gave up, I pretty much just stopped, like two feet firmly planted into quicksand. I just stopped.
When I could no longer take a step, I just let my arms fall down to my side, fingers spread and just sighed.
Chin tucked to my chest, an even breath, then a scream that only echoed on the inside.
When I stopped screaming, I was still sinking and the crushing absence of movement made me bold. I struggled and I flailed but to no avail did I become free from the quicksands hold.
Within reach of my fingertips was a ghostly branch, from a tree that had weathered sicknesses untold. But still that tree reached out for me and as I took hold of it's ghastly brittle fingers, and even now in my mind it lingers, I took that tree out by the roots to sink in cahoots beside me, lingering in this quicksand.
I immediately apologised profusely to the tree that now sinks beside me.
The tree answered back, no, please it was I that lacked the fortitude to save thee.
Oh no! I thought, it was my troubled mind that led me to sink so deep, it was me who should weep quicksand tears for the tree who fell for me so blindly!
So me, and the tree, used each other, you see, one to stay afloat and the other to lay down finally,
to hold another up kindly.
Jun 2016 · 960
Wishing It All Away
Helen Jun 2016
Just...Stop

Stop wishing away the lines on your face.
Every line means you smiled!
Stop wishing away your stretch marks.
For every one of them there is a grateful child.
Stop wishing away those extra pounds.
It means you have food to eat.
Stop wishing away your corns and bunions.
It means you have shoes to put upon your feet.
Stop wishing away your grey hair!
It means you've had many years to enjoy life.
Stop wishing away imperfections,
perceived by others lies.
There is someone out there
who sees you
as perfect in their eyes!
Badges of Courage!
Not shame.
Please...
Stop wishing them away.
Jun 2016 · 312
Counting Scars
Helen Jun 2016
While you are
so busily
counting my scars
I am recounting
so visibly
every single
VICTORY
that each
and every
scar
granted me
May 2016 · 373
someone once lived here
Helen May 2016
She was like...
that rundown house you thought was empty. With each rock thrown, broken windows let in the cold, until one day, it was finally abandoned.
not quite a poem... I'll file this under 'other'
May 2016 · 731
Licking Windows
Helen May 2016
I like to lick the window
he said
Whenever I see somebody
passing by
It's just my way
of saying*  Hi
I'd like to chat to them
but today I'm beat
I can't seem to stay
upon my feet
so I dragged a chair

which was such a feat
from dining room
to bedroom
and I didn't cheat
I actually left the room
for a moment in time
I love the new curtains

by the way
the fabric is sublime
but next time you decide
to rearrange the outside
could you give me a heads up
so I don't run and hide
so I can memorise
the exact amount of steps
I need to take
from bedroom to the out world
so I don't panic
when I try to escape
from the toaster
which asked me

if I was hungry
or the TV that invited me
to sit down and watch

a show or three
I don't like it when they talk to me
I just want to sit by the window
next to the bed
and lick all those people
walking by

**who managed to escape
from their head
yes, he really is crazy but, he's MY crazy and yes, this is close to an actual event... but, I love him :)
May 2016 · 395
One Day, I Hope to Be
Helen May 2016
I hope to be so smart
as those that loved
and got a broken heart
I hope to be so honest
and so philosophical
of the hurt put upon us
I hope to be so strong
to move beyond
and not be wrong
I hope to be so armoured
that it never hurts again
just like I always wanted
I hope to be just like you
as you write your heartbreak
in a style so true
One day,
when it all comes due,
One day,
I hope
to be,
just like you
9th May 2014
May 2016 · 5.7k
I'll never give up
Helen May 2016
when he could no longer
face the outside world
she came to his bedside
built a fortress of covers
under which they could hide
a world he was comfortable in
there she will live with him
until he's ready to look outside
May 2016 · 298
night time touch
Helen May 2016
at 3am my fingertips
will slowly drift
across your skin
only because
of the incessant need
to know you exist
laying beside me
I want to crawl inside
and simply hide
at 3am, your skin
is my tether to reality
as my nightmares
slowly begin
to descend
upon me
May 2016 · 318
stepping lightly
Helen May 2016
She prayed silently
to a god that never listened
and keened softly
into a night that didn't care
she faced another day
in darkness
no sunlight would ever dare
grace her world
with its softness
no ray of sunshine
to light her path
just stumbled steps
leaving her bereft
she was graceless
in her Art
The art of stepping
through a minefield
she tiptoed, flat-footedly
just so she could feel
with tiny little toes
where the the explosions lie
so foolhardily
when she stubbed her foot
she expelled a small sigh
and stepped to the left
and looked to the right
where there should have been
Morning
all she saw was the darkness
of an endless Night
and therein lies her dilemma
lost on the battlefields
of someone else's mind
She never knows
which way to tread
knowing her every step
could explode another's
mine.
May 2016 · 440
changing skins
Helen May 2016
When she replaces her pain with yours,
she has effectively moved into a new skin.
It's not quite as comfortable as her old skin
but she wears it as proud as sin
Remember, though
a new skin means
a new person
she will never again be
the person you used to know
Apr 2016 · 514
That ONE Moment in Time
Helen Apr 2016
It will come to everyone, at some stage in their life, an instant stoppage of time, where images blur and fade away only to convescale into tight focus stabbing deep with a sharper pain.

That one thought that paints a thousand pictures of silent screams that no one heard. That instant when you knew all the words you spilled are only piling up as a mound of dirt.

A moment of clarity as clear as the centre of a bubble. That one moment in time when you ask yourself...
am I really that unloveable?

that will be the whisper of a small voice inside an empty space. It's the same question you'll ask of the mirror while looking at the same face.

That one inner warning that hits with piercing clarity. It will come to you, rest assured, when your lost and alone and you don't want charity,
you won't want pity or useless platitudes spilling from dead lips that leak poison from inside. You just want one person, just one, to hear what you say and hold your hand and not try to hide.

That one moment in time should not be a reoccurring event,
but when it is, the shock is less, you become just that little more hardened, and less **** bent,
to share your life and your feelings
and your heart.
It really is a lesson that should be learnt from the start.
this is not about writing, this is about losing that one person, time and time again. the one you thought would be the one you could call a friend
Apr 2016 · 497
she could do no other...
Helen Apr 2016
she sat
with her back
against
the closed door
but mostly
she laid
upon the floor,
tracing patterns
upon the wood,
whispering wishes
to the choking
dust
knowing she could
just weave a
dreamcatcher
from ****** hair
ripped from
the scalp
or draw an SOS
in the dancing
dust motes
in a silent scream
for help
then she stood,
lightly rapping
upon the door
asking if there
was anything
more
she could do
might do
or say?

When the
demons
screamed
once again
She could do
no other
but
walk away
Helen Apr 2016
Imperfect lines carved into skin
etched in deep by sharpened pin
tiny road maps to insanity
little. tiny. tracks. of inhumanity

Gouged into a perfect slate
filled with blood and sealed with hate
a rutted path to macabre damnation
no salvation in the ruination

A meandering road in total eclipse
from empty eyes to barbed wired lips
to the broken heart so badly stitched
stretching all the way to apocalypse

Fragmented memories line the paths
edged by tears of broken glass
echoing in silence of words unsaid
these are roads even the dead fear to tread
Helen Apr 2016
Broken dreams and cast stones
I've bared the burden
now simply rather collect dust.

In every line I breath as in life I simply decay
its all a blast till you see it for what it never was to begin with

Fallen stars and dim lit thoughts cast a jaded view over the night
And it's always a dream just before the nightmare takes hold

When the nightmare begins, I like to technicolor dream
I see the abyss for the small ditch it could be
I see a puddle of tears that won't become a river
never would I cry so incessantly, weep then move on

We can't erase the scars that choke on a dark night
we cant fight the hands that want to hold us down
broken dreams are signs we are ready for the fight
*and every line is the only thing we can own
"writing" with John is a pleasure. It is intrinsically part of my life.
Helen Apr 2016
I never really focused
on happiness
Never really thought
I had a reason to smile
Each day can be so harsh
but the in between moments
can make it worthwhile
a quiet walk down an empty street
in the moments between
the dark and the dawn
the breath of fresh air
drawn deep into tired lungs
watching fingers of light yawn
across a beautiful start to the day
Then hearing the children laugh
as they come out to play
Spending time with family
when the working week is done
Happiness is not just about fun
It's a soul deep pleasure
that settle upon bones
that are broken
like a soothing balm
It's often less about the spoken
more about the little joys
that sit gently in your palm
I never really thought about the happy
until it was ****** upon my hand
and I find my fingers, gently curling
to hold it steady
I won't let it fall so readily
look closely, they are not clenched fists
*do you understand?
for you, and to your happiness, it's cheap, but it's not easy ;)
Apr 2016 · 615
Free (Rudimental)
Helen Apr 2016
I don’t do yoga, never tried Pilates
Not many people want me at their parties
Tryna find my place, some place, oh I, oh I, oh I
And I drink a little more than recommended
This world ain’t exactly what my heart expected
Tryna find my way someway, oh I, oh I, oh I

[Chorus:]
See, whoa, c’est la vie
Maybe something’s wrong with me
But, whoa, at least I am free, oh, oh, I am free
Yeah, whoa, c’est la vie
Maybe something’s wrong with me
But, hey, at least I am free, oh, oh, I am free

If you ask the church then I am no believer
Spend Sundays asleep I'm just another dreamer
Still tryna find my home sweet home, oh I, oh I, oh I
And I guess I ain’t too good for money neither
I got two left feet, no, I'm no Jackson either
Just tryna find my way someway, oh I, oh I, oh I

[Chorus:]
See, whoa, c’est la vie
Maybe something’s wrong with me
But, whoa, at least I am free, oh, oh, I am free
Yeah, whoa, c’est la vie
And maybe something’s wrong with me
But, whoa, at least I am free, oh, oh, I am free

Just tryna find my home sweet home, sweet home, sweet home, sweet home,
I drink a little more than recommended
'Cause this ain’t exactly what my heart expected

[Chorus:]
Whoa, c’est la vie
Maybe something’s wrong with me
But whoa, at least I am free, oh, oh, I am free
Yeah, whoa, c’est la vie
Maybe something’s wrong with me
But, whoa, at least I am free, oh, oh, I am free.

Whoa, c’est la vie
Maybe something’s wrong with me
Whoa, at least I am free, oh, oh, I am free
Whoa, c’est la vie
Maybe something’s wrong with me
Whoa, at least I am free, oh, oh, I am free.
I don't know why this song speaks to me but... It so does...
http://youtu.be/KDPW_g2AhAU
Helen Mar 2016
We set a paper ship
upon the waters
in hope it will never know a storm
we have bared of our past
In hopes that maybe to gather
they could fair better than us
as clear skies graced our thought
now storm clouds loom heavy.
It's never as we planned
but never our fault.

Those paper ships slip
from between our fingertips
before we are ready to set sail
We watch them bob
upon traitorous waters
standing upon stormy land
and know only,
when they are lost at sea
that our casting off
has failed

Under moonlit nobility gets beyond our controls and storms
we seldom grasp, the ships sink faster than the images we have lives since painted within our thoughts.
It all comes full circle in the end

Full circle begins
when weeping upon a midnight beach
waiting for the debris to float in
To sit upon the sand
and not understand
how paper boats can't float
without sails
We set them out upon stormy seas
Hoping them fine and fair weather
only to see them smashed upon the shore
with no guidance from above
just a single feather
Buried deeply in their chest
a single hope
they could fly
now they lay broken
upon a distant shore
dying under a whisper
of... *I tried
The opening lines are by John Patrick Robbins aka Gonzo. The most amazing supportive friend I will ever have!  They were the perfect lines for me to open myself up as a parent to the fact that we can fail as a parent to not only to losing our children to death but also to losing our children to a living death. His name IS Darcy :)
Mar 2016 · 556
A Place to Call Home
Helen Mar 2016
she wallows in confusion
when she can't express her pain
and every day she can't talk
literally drives her insane
she holds onto her panic
hiding inside her insanity
but every now and then
she decides to break free
She spreads her wings
and calls one number
She know her wings will be tucked
beneath a heart that does not slumber
Where she can rest her head
upon a regular heartbeat
and rest her heart
where it's safe to weep
A nest of Hope
A nest of Peace
A comfortable place
for tired wings to Sleep
thank you for being my sanctuary
Mar 2016 · 427
I'm already dead
Helen Mar 2016
I've tried to talk about it
until I'm blue in the face
but I'm already dead
the conversation left
...no trace
I called at 4am
Left a voice message
followed up with a text,
I guess you didn't get it
My drama is a burden
My tears are hard to take
My words are hard to process
maybe, my friendship
was a mistake

I hesitate to contact you
what if I'm interrupting?
I know that others have a life
at least they have something
I hit dial on my phone
then hope the one who answers
understands my sobbing voice
and doesn't silently judges..
I know I'm already dead
I just seem to keep on
breathing
as long as I have a voice
on the other end of the line
I'll keep on
believing
this life is worth living
and the tears I cry are
real
because appearances can be
deceiving
*I look better than I feel
#anxiety #depression #talk
Mar 2016 · 397
already written
Helen Mar 2016
someone layed a blank book
in front of me, asking
What would the title be?

I looked as blank as those pages
I don't know the answer
I'm not a blank book
I have history, behind a story
but what are the chances
my story has already been told
in another's voice
What if there is another out there
that has made the same choice?
Stories are not unique
there is a chance we are already written
I'd take that blank book
and scribbled my name only
because I've read the stories
of my own life in the sound bites
of snatches of beleaguered songs
I'm not a blank book, looking
for a title
I'm where my blank pages
belong
Next page