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I do not wish to dream,
For dreams are illusionary life,
Peopled with phantoms of the living
Reflecting our awakened mind's
Fears, lusts, hopes.
Vanity flavours the subconscious.

There is no rest here.

When I close my eyes I pray for darkness.
I wish to escape into the black,
Silk tendrils of the lost tickle my fancy,
Easing my ever chattering mind
Into micro deaths of sweet silence.
I do not exist,
Neither do you,
Nothing.
It is here that I find comfort.

Solace in the forgetting.
I’m strong, I can stand
against the buffeting winds
that try push me down.

        (I’m weak, too easy I fall,
       giving in to the pressure
       that mounts from within.)

In the face of your discrimination,
I’m courageous
       (I fear your abuse)

Yes, I am strong.
Though my gnarled hands
bend with age,
my roots…

        (break, there is no
       vigor left in me)

Sighing...my mind twists
that which should grow
into a solid foundation,
turning it into

        (groans of pain,
       mental anguish.
       Weakness takes over)

A tired thought dances
through dim light,
bringing some joy
into the
  
       (bleak. All I see are
       shadows. Mocking shadows.)

Once I believed I had it,
an inner strength to deal
with anything.

        (Like a mirage, my spirit
       couldn’t grasp what it needed.)

Now I envision…
no, I see what I truly am.

My hands are wringing,
I’m cold...so cold.

I am
not
strong.
This is the 7th piece I wrote in the Anxiety collaboration. This piece was the chosen one, until I wrote another piece. If you have read all 6 poems in this series, you will see a progression from dark to not so dark. Each piece has emotion, lots of it. I have to admit that this one was the hardest to write, as the emotion hit me very hard. I was mentally spent after writing and editing this (although there was very little editing to be done). As I was in my 'writing state of mind', I cried. Yes, dear reader, some poetry does that to me. I was overwhelmed by emotion. I have not yet figured out if the tears were borne from the poem, or if the words flowed out as a reaction to where my head was at. Maybe it just doesn't matter.

This poem is the 2nd last one in this series. I hope you enjoy it. I hope you, in some little way, took a journey with me. Maybe my words have revealed something in us that we don't want people to see. Maybe you just simply can't relate to any of it. And there is always the risk that you laugh at me and my words. This is all fine. I have grown. I have learned. Smiled and cried, I've run the gamut of emotion in this series of poetry. Please enjoy.

Rod E. Kok
April 2014
When you need a shoulder to cry on
My shoulder is here for you
When you need a hug
I am here with open arms
When you need someone to love
I already love you
 May 2014 Laura Mankowski
BH
Those three words feel like a swarm of bees buzzing in my mouth and making it hard to think, I'm scared you can hear them stinging my lips and tongue,  I'm afraid to open my mouth and say those three words to you because I don't want you to get stung, so I will swallow them down and let them sting my insides  all the way to my bones where they can make a home inside my skin.
Tounderstandawordonemustbethemselvesandletthestoryflowwithwhatisw­rittenasitcanbeconfusingifnotseperatedandmadetobealongsentence
that is hard to read.
 May 2014 Laura Mankowski
gd
Past.
 May 2014 Laura Mankowski
gd
I've made
a lot of
mistakes
but you
weren't
o   n   e

gd
(10w)
When the stars dont shine

I'll know you're dead

When the grass in the prairies are yellow

I'll know you're dead

When the city lights dont catch my attention anymore

I'll know you're dead

When I dont see anymore blessings

I'll know you're dead

When the sun is the brightest thing I see in sight

I'll know you're dead because you're my light to my dark and cloudy days

When a guitars sound makes me sad everytime I hear it

I'll know you're dead

When I dont have a reason to wake up to

I'll know you're dead

When the night comes and there's no one to say "Goodnight I love you" to

I'll know you're dead

When I write you these poems
And read them to you

Dont be afraid

Because I love you and mean everything in them

You're alive, and God keeps blessing me everyday you're alive

Don't be afraid of anything, because I love you

You're alive

The night isn't so dark after all, and the dark isn't so scary after all

The sun isn't so bright after all

You're alive
8:34pm kind of thing
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