Screams in the pitch black
Turn to butterflies, moths
Lilac wings beating wisps of air
Like wisps of ghosts
Invisible people, touching, reaching
Grabbing, pulling,
gnawing, curling around
Each part of the body at all times
The feeling creeps into the mind
Each and every day

Tossing on the blankets in bed
Latching, anchoring to them
Hands hold so tightly that the
Knuckles are white and
Ache with a deepness,
Like the deepness of
An endless black hole
And falling, nothingness surrounding
Every part of the body
Every part of the mind

Violently flailing, scratching
Clawing, dragging, raking,
None of them win the battle.
It grips us in the times
That our resolve falters
In our own darkness
Our own corner somewhere
between the synapses
firing terror
Our own abyss

"                        "
      !            :                  ,                .
              ,            ,            ,                .
      ,              ;                              !
                    ,

No sprouted wheat and soya shoots
And Brussels in a cake,
Carrot straw and spinach raw,
(Today, I need a steak).

Not thick brown rice and rice pilaw
Or mushrooms creamed on toast,
Turnips mashed and parsnips hashed,
(I'm dreaming of a roast).

Health-food folks around the world
Are thinned by anxious zeal,
They look for help in seafood kelp
(I count on breaded veal).

No smoking signs, raw mustard greens,
Zucchini by the ton,
Uncooked kale and bodies frail
Are sure to make me run

to

***** of pork and chicken thighs
And standing rib, so prime,
Pork chops brown and fresh ground round
(I crave them all the time).

Irish stews and boiled corned beef
and hot dogs by the scores,
or any place that saves a space
For smoking carnivores.

And now that you have ruined my love of stars, I turn to broken things, (like our relationship) and galaxies, (dead, like our love) instead.

Maybe goodbyes actually mean
You'll do better without me

Maybe I give up actually means
I'll try again tomorrow but for now, I'm done

Maybe I hate you actually means
I'm tired of trying to love you and getting pushed away

Maybe I'm sorry actually means
I didn't mean for you to find out

There is good in bad,
There is bad in good.

You can't deny it,
Nor can you run away from it.

*Like a phoenix,
You rise from the ashes.

I realized something

I never had a child hood

I never ran out onto the sand and swam in the ocean

I never had a favorite toy

Or had my dad teach me to ride I bike

I never flew a kite

I never had my mom tuck me into bed

My mom wasn't there for my 3rd birthday

I cant say I love or hate my mom's cooking

I never had help with homework

I have never been to a candy store

I have know what death was since I was 5 years old

I never grew up with my best friend
She died when I was 7 of cancer

I never had a child hood