Misselle: Poems

Misselle Jun 2016

There were three men

I was surrounded, trapped in bed

Where I lay to die

Let me be lost

Two said to their boss

There is no place in heaven for her

She never believed in any god

Be trapped in burning flames

For eternity

And pass through these last moments

In regret

Pay for your sins

Don't let it go as it is

Let God in

Stop these sins

On my dying breath

They tried to make use of my distress

I won't beg forgiveness for a life well led

I know I was good, so let me rest

I am ready for the end

Eternity is now my time to
Rest

Lighthouse

Misselle Jun 2016

Lighthouse

A lighthouse I share a coast with reaches out and takes my hand
I breath the soft air the ocean offers, staying away from water
I can’t separate from dark, stormy sky

They say, when it rains
To look for rainbows
But there is no light but the periodic flash of my lighthouse
And the angle is wrong

They say, when it’s dark, to look for stars
But the storm clouds are thick
Scattering light
So I cannot chase it

A lighthouse I share a coast with reaches out to another and warns them
Of the rocks and cliffs
And for a moment I meet its eye before
It grasps another’s hand

#grief #ocean

My Reality

Misselle Jun 2016

My Reality

Darkness
Soft and resounding,
repulsive
yet resonant with my being.
I am surrounded by it, with only a faint sense
of self
and existence.
No shadow can pass through my realm of existence; my
vision
memory
reality.

...

Reality?

Is it real, or merely a fabrication of things I wish to be?

Are my thoughts, feelings, real?

Do they exist?

Or is everyone I know a marionette which I subconsciously maneuver, bending them to my own will, for my own pleasure?

Yet. . . the answer lies in pain and guilt.

I ask myself this, knowing if my reality was a dream constructed by myself,
I'd feel
no pain
no regret

And thinking of my sorrows, I ask again
not what is reality, but
what is dreamed?

Osteoid

Misselle Jun 2016

Osteoid

So ugly yet so beautiful at once

The symbol of death but the framework of life

So complex yet so simply, so plainly: white

#bones #anatomy

Serotonin

Misselle Jun 2016

Serotonin

I lost him in a bottle of Mucinex
And a flood of serotonin
I lost him between the ‘D’ and ‘M’
And a flood of serotonin

Convulsions, fever, hallucinations
It was just because of serotonin
Overloading his system, forging images
That then began to own him

But then the questions late at night
Why did he choose to end his life?
Was it a choice, did he think of us?
It’s all because of serotonin

I can’t stomach the thought of him lying
At my age in a hospital bed
Because the world was too dark
That grandfather ghosts must stand above him and make a choice
All because of serotonin

And how did he—No!
I can’t go there
I can’t, I don’t want to know!
And in the end, all that’s important, was it was all serotonin

I lost him eight hundred miles away
Without a chance to hold on, not for a moment
I lost him at the Golden Gate
Because of ******* serotonin

— The End —