I am awoken by a nagging in my head
its in my mothers voice
the urgency,
I don't know what for, its 5 am.
my submission doesn't speak.
I fill the air with the sound
of my nonsense, a rambling of dreams,
"dont burst the bubble, burst the bubble, burst the-"
a never ending melody.
Because there is nothing louder than this, I have wanted to crawl out of my skin long before I knew it was mine.
And theirs, not mine entirely, composed of DNA so imperfect
even the gods would've laughed.
If you ever want to **** something up to the point its unrecognizable,
give it to me, look what I did to my own potential.
Squander doesn't begin to cover it, almost out of spite.
and i must stop it before it reaches my eyes
it has a certain way of clouding them over
and I just dont want people to realize
that I am swallowing a lump
at the back of my throat
what seems like forever
trying not to get my eyes to burn or
dig my nails deep into someones throat
just to feel their artery and scream
"YOU ******* FEEL IT DONT YOU?
ARE YOU ALIVE? ARE YOU REALLY HERE?
YOU ARE ALIVE, ALIVE ALIVE!."
Then place the sharp bits of my nails
against my skin, hard
and not feel
anything
I struggle with self control
especially with ***
and drugs
and alcohol.

I yell too often, never loud enough to make them hear me.
I am afraid of my own voice
telling people to shut up
Jack knows its not a good thing if I whisper
last time I did I said
"I don't have a pulse, I cant find my pulse."
Before I freaked out and smashed that vase against the wall
and laughed at what a sad broken cliche I have become.
My anger came out in sputtering sobs

And he tried to hold me
because that's what people do in movies
cue the background music
but I didn't let him because I was never any good at acting,

and he never got mad when I hit him
I can hear that "Sshhhh" at the back of
my ear
Forever.
and I could wince at my own humiliation if I gave a ****.
I wont lie it was awkward he sounded scared
"aww dont c-c-ry"
thought I saw a tear there too

He will

Kiss me hard
Touch me where I am scarred
Throw me out
Scream; shout
Remind me I am worthless
Make me wordless
Use
Abuse

But he will

Love me softly
Come home promptly
Take me out
Ask what I am all about
Remind me that he needs me
Compare me to a beautiful sea
Find me when I am afraid
Give me aide

And he will

*Always cry himself to sleep

It had been four months since I started
reading his favorite poems aloud
to crack through congested silence.  

I memorized the way
his nose crinkled up when I stuttered,
his husky chuckle after I read
one of his favorite lines,
the smell of yellowed, dog-eared pages.  

I got to know this man
who had seemingly lost everything
and was just waiting
for his children to visit,
his medications to be dropped off,
to be with his wife once more.

I wore his favorite burgundy scrubs;
it was almost his birthday
and I had a new book to add
to his collection.

They didn’t tell me before I walked in.

It was bare:
the room reeked of bleach,
there were no sheets on the bed,
his few belongings were stuffed
in a cardboard box in the corner of the floor.  

I sat on the mattress and wondered
why his kids were not here  
mourning or making arrangements,
why I didn’t get to see the slight tug
of his lips to form a smirk when
I showed him the new Tennyson
that would now just gather dust.

He left me his anthologies in his will.


*Allison Sylvia
November 30, 2014
4:41:38 PM

I've thrown you so many life jackets that you continually dig your nails into and break through. I want to save you, but you are sinking fast and the boat I'm on is slowly drifting away.
The only thing I could do is jump in with you, but then,

we'd both drown.

Angels don't cry for me
Shadow light sprinkle lightly on my head don't you see. .

Sparkles lightening in the sky
Dying grey day envelopes the way
Where hearts surges to follow the silence of art
with wind beneath your wings
I beg you not to cry ...

Having taken the journey
from dark to light
became the beginning of the end
discovering my own source
hence the reason to look within ...

Soft wind prayers surrounding the hearts
That fluffs like the peaks
Of the valley alms that leeks
Where random fathoms live so well
High on the hills that ring their bell
In a gentle sweet sound
Finally To be found. ....

Angels Don't Cry for me....*

Debbie Brooks 2014

By the canal in British summer rays
Talking a lot to waste away the days
In your black leather reigns
Adolescent growing pains
You exist too loudly today, pull away from the sun
Tight starry wristbands, and you've only just begun
You've read Proust so many times, you believe it all
From the adjacent garden, you hear your Mother call
There's insects caught on the updraft
Floating away, you see the life-raft
With heavenly swans on board
Some alabaster hooting hoard
And the boys in tight vests
Run away from your pert *******
You would give chase too
Only if you caught them,
what on Earth could you do?