Open hands.
open eyes.
open ears.

Mindfulness, told me to care.
It didn't let me know how to deal -
how to deal when others don't.

Mother, Father, Brother, and Sister
everyone I've ever known,
how do you deal with the loss of feeling.

How does one cope without
an ear to the ground, an eye out for another,
and hands ready to pull people up out of their stupor.  

Yesterday, my cousin died.
I had no relationship with him
other than when people I know
talked about him going in out and jail.

I contacted all his brothers and sisters,
no one had spoken to him in years
and his overdose was met with a shrug.

He might have been the worst kind of person
and still here I am meeting his end
with confusion and unknowing
for why his life couldn't have been different.

Success is in my blood!

Just when I think I left the past behind,
My demons finally caught up to me.

Self-destructive tendencies,
Manic, mental, inability
To overcome this disease that plagues me.

It's cyclical,
It's haunting,
And it's exhausting.

I want to feel whole again.
I want to be happy.
I want to feel okay again.

I don't want to head down this road once more.

It seems I'm following a self-fulfilling prophecy,
Because all I seem to do is crave a substance,
That I know will only bring temporary happiness.

Dear Diary, I'm here to say,
I'm back once again, my thoughts in disarray.

I promise I'm trying.

I'm trying to overcome this years-long battle.

Dear Diary, I have to be honest with myself,
And honest with others,
Otherwise, what's to say I am trying to get better?

This writing is a testament, a statement,
A promise.

Dear Diary, this will be my last letter.

i've always been told
that i am a greedy lover
allowing love
to eat me whole,
devoting myself entirely
and expecting
the same in return.

i let you swim in my veins,
before burying yourself
inside my bones.

my kisses
will burn your skin,
and leave pathways
of where i've been.

i will breathe you in
forsaking all oxygen
injecting you into my blood,
desperate for another fix
so completely addicted
so completely yours.

We’re ****** in the chains of the past
Walking souls trying to find the way back
Stuck there
In this vivid dream
In this cycle of broken sins
The biblical story, can’t you not see  
Dirt
Noir
******
Found peace among the ******
Among the ****
Words cocking up on the spoon
Thoughts breaking loose
The flames reminded me that I was just a kid
When you let him touch me
Inhale the smoke
Mainline it
to forget that your heart is broke
Once somebody told me
I’ll burn my veins
Before
The words burn the pages

Joe is the first thing on my mind
When I open my eyes in the morning.
I long for his warm embrace,
His electrifying kiss,
The smell of his presence
So familiar to me,
Enveloping me with a sense of comfort.

Without him my day is sad,
My mind foggy and groggy.
But most days Joe is here for my taking.
I sip him in slowly
With a mug more than half full,
Giving me that bit of motivation
That life without him lacks.

You promised me a lifetime.

“Unconditional” you said.

But you left.

While I wept.

- lonely heart
-L. Ramorola