I am unfortunately out of practice,
I have given you into the hands of my laziness and neglectful nature,
They are unkind masters,

They like to make me forget that good things require attention,
Else good things grow tainted with tarnish,
Your polished glory was only known when I remembered to care,

Must I communicate with you,
Resurrecting you from the dead?
Or are you my communication and I must learn to speak again?

As sleeping beauty,
You are sleeping inside of me,
Your lifeless form is sustained by only the guilted glances from my mind,
I acknowledge you existence,
But something hinders me from shaking you,
Waking you,
Ripping you from your slumbering prison,
To replace you to your seat of importance,

Why hold back?
I know the reward of your company,
Yet I am content in complacency!
I am the one sleeping,
But beauty does not grace my bed,
I am betrayed by the unfeeling safety l cling to,
To work,
To make an effort,
Not only is it hard,
Exhausting,
But it is a risk,

Fear of falling,
Of failing,
Of losing,
Of letting down,
This fear has replaced you as my best friend,
It drives my actions,
My passions,
It claims my best interest,
Delusional,
Self-centered,
It looks out only for itself,

“You know better.”
Whispers,
As though talking into my dreaming,
You insist truth,

Truth is the only thing that might overcome fear,
If one could just let the truth in,
One could wake up,
I could wake up,

You, thought to be the sleeper,
You are screaming from my heart,
But Fear also screams,
Fear is afraid,
It chokes my heart,
Trying to silence your pleas,

The war in my chest breaks my trance,
Wake me up!
Oh for God’s sake, wake me up!
I want to live again!

Was life granted only to sleep in safety?
I was made to feel!
To speak and express and converse and love and use my gifts,
Fear be ******!

I was made to be with you,
You are my heart,
Hold me tight and never let me forget you again,
Never let me fall asleep.

A Phantom feeling on my left ring finger,
Like something is missing,
Something I never should have known,

The Sparkle of the thing was once familiar,
The Weight, now like a ghost on my hand,
The Ghost of something I never should have known,

Now Naked, I wait for a true band of commitment,
A band that will not be broken,
Broken like something I never should have known,

Redemption is coming,
You will wipe away the broken,
the naked,
the ghosts,
the missing,

You will show me all the things I should have known.

I used to always write on rides like these,
Ink in hand,
Open page,
Looking out the window at the wide world,
But the world was not what I saw,

Only the images filling my mind,
I pondered and lost myself in those ideas,
Sometimes music inspired the flow,
Sometimes the hum of the car was enough,

Now the ink is neglected,
The book remains closed,
Today my raging thoughts will not see the white of the page,
They are held prisoner behind dark, shining eyes and a wall of uncertainty,

Maybe I will pick up the pen,
Hoping its feel will remind me how to empty myself,
Perhaps I will open to a new, clean page,
Hoping its emptiness will prompt me to fill it,

Taking my eyes from the window I analyze the white square,
So small,
Yet so daunting,
The pen begins to tap as I struggle,

All I see is its emptiness and I feel empty,
But I am overflowing!
I do not pour out,
Instead I feel as though stretched to contain all that is within,

Concentration seemingly out the window again,
Grey skies heighten my dreary mood,
I brood in my frustration,
I brood in my cage,

Natural as a whim,
Words crash into my mind,
I defy my problem by using it as my inspiration,
The pen moves on the page,

It is filled and complete,
A poem is born.

I wake to a cloud,
The imagined memories coming back,
So lovely they seemed in my sleep,
Such a nightmare when viewed by the truth of daylight,

Trying to shake the feelings,
I look to the steaming water to wash away the dark lies,
The flowing shower clears my mind,
But only to ponder all the freer,

The cloud has cleared to reveal the shadow,
A shadow of memory,
A shadow haunting all who have experienced pain,
Regret and betrayal are in its smoky tendrils,

Distraction is sought in activity, work, company,
But at the end of the day, darkness again consumes my senses,
Nostalgia wears a seductive smile,
And the temptation to recollect cannot be quelled,

Rather than run from the reminiscence,
I feed the shadow in my mind,
For a brief moment I give in,
I remember without hindering,

An eclipse of my soul,
I allow the dark to overwhelm,
I bleed from closed wounds,
I shed tears of the past.