Rousseau
I desire
In a heat of summer

Zeno
Disregards
My triumphant return

From wild brush
Sudden wilderness
Harsh temperatures

The north
Or south
Anguished by gold

Needing a solid
Fixation
Condemning love

Validating the truth
Of my delinquency
Letting death overcome life

He was so pretty
The scion
My child...

So pure
Like snow
With the name Napoleon

He was mine
My son
Natural blood

Chelsea
The rose so cold
Living in a spring of chill

Where is the love
We once shared?
It has to be rotting in the ground

All is gone
The money
My *****

I want more
Something substantial
Not hunger

Nor your whining
I hate
And fear the searing leach

That you have become
My bonus from life
Is this

Trouble
An uncontrollable
Falling out

I revise
God's device
Informative drive

I have to run
Baby
To the bay

With torrential rain
Sudden winds
Hateful lies

I have no explanation
Her name is Betty
And contrary

To happy endings
With a tome of reality at ready
I contribute to life

By saying
That...
I hate you

Tick Tick Tick
The clock on the wall
Almost melodic, like
A metronome it plays

Tick Tick Tick
The time seems to crawl
But the thoughts hit me
Hard like a spike.
The voices like a frenzied craze.

Tick Tick Tick
The melody continues.
Trying to keep calm and stay cool
But the feeling continues to flow and ensue

Tick Tick Tick
The collection embues
Collecting and gathering, they pool.
I try my hardest to subdue.

Tick Tick Tick
The clock on the wall
continues to countdown
To my inevitable outburst

Tick Tick Tick
These thoughts continue to appall.
Attempting to drown
That which lies on me, this curse.

TICK
TICK
TICK

Then it chimes
It's inevitable
I'm responsible from my crimes
I should've known it was inescapable

The clock on the wall no longer ticks

-Navahopi119

I never know what's happening
When this happens
I lose control

All I can see is opportunities
All I want to feel is pain
All I want to do is cry without crying

Self-Destruction
That's what I need sometimes
Feeling the pain

Seeing the bruises in my face
Feeling the throb of my head
Thinking those thoughts

I'm always alone because I can't control it

I tap my foot and twiddle my fingers looking for distractions, like the way the beige wraps around the wall or the subtle beeping of all the machines. Looking for anything to take my mind off why I'm here. They should know not leave me alone with my thoughts. Sooner or later  someones going to come through that door and give me the news  of course I might go crazy by then.

I want to crawl out of my skin and transcend. I want to feel all the things I have forgotten that don't have names. I want to slip away. I want to laugh freely. I want to feel the way I used to. 

this bed is stripped down to the mattress and it shows all the faults and failures. it knows my name, bears my secrets, and held me up for four years. this ceiling houses my soul. these walls have both imprisoned me and set me free.

Laura gets emotional whenever we go to the towneast NA meetings. she says “this is the room I got clean in.” 

this room is where I rose and fell; transformed and burnt the remains of my monstrosity. I have evolved and endured within the confines of these walls. the scent of psychosis and freedom still lingers in the wallpaper of the bathroom after a long hot shower.

I have changed my entire existence within this room. I have lost my mind and soul in here. I have been empty and numb, trapped on this mattress. I was determined to make it the last thing I ever saw, once.

I have been to heaven and to hell on this bed. now I question if either exist. everything I have ever known, I have learned in here. everything I have ever questioned happened within this room.

I want to burn it to the ******* ground.

Conceiving you felt like death.
Slowly drowning in despair.
The pressure rising to my head.

Only in my womb for a month,
Longing for a mother
That wasn’t actually there

I heard you crying in anguish
It mocked me continuously,
You felt contaminating.

I sank to the bottom,
Laying there, lungs filled, bursting in pain
A dark presence swept over me.

There are a million ways to bleed and
You were gutted out whole
No sea water but my own tears.

She took you from me.
Or
Did I take you away from myself?  

Regret and
Heartache
Paralyzed me

Remember that feeling,
When you pick at a scab.
The fleshy white skin that forms,
over the red underneath.

A thin layer that protects
From elements,
as you heal.

But I'm,
Left staring,
Mouth-wide open,  at the blood,
Coagulating silence.

I wonder,
This time,
Why did you come back?
To pick at my just healed wounds?
I'm sorry,
All that's left is ash.
The charcoal still burning,
Red-orange flames.
Dying down,
Burning out.
This ash,
It covers me,
From head to toe.