Perhaps you'd like the medicated me
The ways they use to medicate me
Made being medicated the only me to see
Fully functional gear of the machine
Unstoppable not talkative
Absolutely no cognitive thought
Fully functioning just for these
People who never understood my words
They said I spoke in a blur
I couldn't sit still
I still couldn't read
So they all took the time to medicate me
And it helped
I went from a D to and an A
While losing sight of all things unique
Words and their play
My spirit was broken
But no one could see
The medicated self was slowly killing me

My fingers itch in so many ways—
They wish to touch the stars;
They long to play my soul's heartsong,
And strive to sketch my scars.

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lovely little life
who am i kidding
all i want is for someone to ****** me
so i dont have to dissapoint my family with a left behind suicide note

I didn’t know it at the time
The bench seemed more a subject
A reminder to sit and look

Ease one’s load
Reflect upon the day
Reach for plumbs unexplored

Years later the memories were revived
The day we saw the bench

She and they
Strolled leisurely
Quaint small exhibits of musty furniture
The rickety interior of the old stone manor

Please, can you take our picture?
Here.  Use my phone.

We were on our way home
Through the garden path
Unflowered in the early winter’s dusk
Brisk but not too chilly.  The cold would come later.

Waiting, alone, I chanced a shot
The composition was
Just OK.  My fans said “good”.  I, “no not”.

I now recall the view
From behind the porch
Looking upward at the stained
Glass dormer
Halfway between the house and the bench

I remember that day
When I saw her.
When I was able to see her.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not touch you
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth
As all things are filled with my soul
You emerge from the things
Filled with my soul
You are like my soul
A butterfly of dream
And you are like the word: Melancholy

I like for you to be still
And you seem far away
It sounds as though you are lamenting
A butterfly cooing like a dove
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not reach you
Let me come to be still in your silence
And let me talk to you with your silence
That is bright as a lamp
Simple, as a ring
You are like the night
With its stillness and constellations
Your silence is that of a star
As remote and candid

I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
Distant and full of sorrow
So you would've died
One word then, One smile is enough
And I'm happy;
Happy that it's not true

The deeper you sink
The darker it gets.
Sunlight fades into nothing,
Sound becomes a dream.
The pressure, the weight
Will rise beyond belief.
People will forget you
And you will forget them.

So all I can say is swim,
Don't let yourself drown
Because it doesn't matter
If you're swimming or sinking,
Pain will find you either way.
And if you don't believe me,
Believe this. I've been there.

I've been at rock bottom,
I've been at sky high.
But no matter where I'm at,
Pain has this way of finding me.
I hurt right now
For things out of reach,
But I know how to control
How much pain controls me.