What could we do, but
Reach out and defy rapture
As the light took us?
Come the fire, come what remains,
Our dust will be together.

life is beautiful
but it is also sad
of all the good things
there is also the bad
and it feels as though the bad is always embracing the good
that there is more bad than there is good in this world

and when the mind is overloaded with the negative
sometimes the drowning can't be stopped

the world starts to understand
that the happiest people may just be the saddest
and it fills me with grief
as it is anything but untrue
true to the point it hurts me

my secret was being revealed

it strips me off my feigned confidence
and leaves me with an empty shell
empty of love
of all the good things in life

i am sad for myself
who have turned out this way

and in the end i only have myself to hold
but i do not like me
not now
not ever

so tell me

how shall i live?

— Y.H.

my own personal epiphany,
gentle fervor.

The act of grieving.
It’s unlike anything I’ve
Ever had to go through.
Survived through 17 years of
Mental torture at the hands of
A mother who should have loved me;
But alcoholism had her by the throat
          ****.
That never received any justice.
Physical abuse and mental abuse
For years by a man who should have
Cherished me but instead hated me.
12 hours of labor with no medication.
No relief of the spine crushing pain.
And yet the simple act of you dying.
             Of you leaving me behind,
                           In this world without you.
Has crushed and devastated me.
     Leaving me
                          annihilated and listless.
And without

My best friend, my cheerleader, my fan, my sounding board, my dad, my confidant, my partner in crime, my moral backbone, my courage, my strength, my forever compass, my mother figure, my only family.

I don’t know how to exist here.

The act of grieving,
Has left me tired and restless.
And I’m unsure if I’ll finish the act
Or the act will finish me.
   Exit stage…..
                                                        ­        Right.

You and I will always be a story.

These moments and time we spent
together has been written.

You cannot come to me and
tell me that you forgot me.

Its not that simple to forget me.

Ostracization
Contamination
Through my deflation
I find devastation
On the devil’s station
Of severed relations

My misfit
******
Sin bit
Prison stint
Reminisced
Of my bliss
Without a kiss
So I eat a dish
Of a returning wish
But I’m a burning witch
Who’s yearning to switch
From learning I’m glitched

I received
A receipt
Of deceit
By elite
Petite
Feet
That stepped on
My weapon
Of inspection
Due to detections
Defused by erections

The jaded
Invaded
And waited
To be hated
So I’d be baited
And mentalities traded

Pickaxe
Sick facts
Impact
My tact
As I react
To the flak
I use to attack
Coming back
On my track
Turning black

How do I deal with their negativity?
Is it really just a matter of relativity?
Must I have my relatives killing me
Before the hatred filling me
Is justified?
Why must I cry
When only dust resides
In my desolate insides?

The heartless devastate
Making me separate
Into a mental state
Completely innate
An unseemly inmate
Of the tumultuous strait
Between finding a date
And the bitter fate
Dinner plate
Sinners make

This challenge leaves me petrified
Possibly electrified
From their pesticide
That infects inside
Until I elect to hide
And convince myself I don’t care
My mental health I won’t share
I’ll just scream no fair
Flailing arms in the air
I will not have been spared
By this devastating nightmare