Yesterday I lost my pain
I lost my soul
I played the game
The game I played it wasn't fun
It had no challenge
It's name was "Numb"
It required nothing from anyone
The players played
We were never done
See the game we played it had no end
Because with feeling gone
We needed not attend
To emotions to others or disturbing events
Instead we just stared
Each inside our own fence.
The fences were high but none of us cared
Apathy encompassing
all we once dared
To laugh about to cry about To make our heart beat
We were numb to it all
Giving way to the bleak
But the fences did more than save us from ourselves
They separated us from each other
Which was something of a hell
Because protection is one thing and loneliness is another
The game we were playing made us
look and say "Why bother"
When really what it did was keep us from healing
Because without other souls
What's the point of coping or dealing
We lost interaction we lost hugs we lost smiles
Cursed by our own choice
Our fences kept us in our files.

I love being free.
To be no longer bound
By the Rail is freedom.
To be slowed down no longer
By protection.

But to be free.
No longer bound by the rail.
Openly prone to harm and danger.
Is to be no longer bound
By the Rail.

Words are sweet, but they can also be bitter.
They say love keeps up together..
But i'm sure a life without it can be a lot better
Tired of trying to protect him or her.

Let one learn for themselves that they should stop and wait.
Let them learn that the should think about what they are doing before it's too late.
I wonder how it can be such a beautifully fake image love can create.
But the lust for attention is strong, and we all can relate.

Its hard to lay at night without a mate,
and think to yourself "is this my fate?"
Then you wonder "how much of this love ******* can i take?"

Yawn and stretch
Mid-morning nap, check
Time to scent the premises to ward off predators
Keeping watch over the pack
A century's job is never done
Scenting, check
Lost in the smell of love
Oh how they leave me piles of love
I find them by chance and roll myself in them
It's almost like they are with me
Back to work keeping watch over the world
How am I supposed to protect things
If I'm not supposed to be perched on the lookout tower
I must do, what I must do
Warning the passersby that this place is safe, protected,  check
'tis my job
Back to basking in the love
The piles of scented coverings left behind
I believe they scent them just for me
Surely they must know I need them when they are off and away
Yes, piles of love.  
Back to work
Waiting to be rewarded for a successful day of guarding the premises
Waiting for the belly rubs that signify a job well done
The sun is low as I lay perched upon the tower

All my stress comes out in dreams
And yours' comes out in light.
When at night you hear my screams
Daytime bring the fright.
Anxiety stricken morning kiss
Whispers of times to come,
Your false promise of today's bliss
All of this.... will come undone.

Though I know how each day will end,
Nothing, to you, will ever be wrong.
You still believe and try to pretend
It's all right if you sing God's song.
Our fractured world is on the mend;
This illusion lasts only for so long.
The corner of your smile starts to bend.
And, by then all's gone wrong.

With sharp words comes your battle cry.
I, now, your projected/reflected demon.
With fists and spit, the pain like fire flies.
A confused face searching for reason.
Do I defend; an eye for an eye?
No, I still stand to take what I'm given.
I will tuck you in your bed tonight.
You'll say your prayers, You'll be forgiven.



And I'll be here again and again
To help you fight your demons.

I see you as the devil with others.

But with me you are an angel and I am save in your arms.

I could never see you in a different way.

You may be cruel.

But your cruelty  is for a reason.

So is your good heart still beating.

And very well protected.

C.M.

The flower was yanked from the ground, because the thought of weeds the people couldn't handle. He didn't protect what needed his protection. He couldn't preserve an ounce of what was important. Spring has now gone, and it will not come again.

I may clothe myself,
but it is not out of shame,
it’s for the weather.

© Matthew Harlovic

nights are wonderful
softening all shapes
taking off daylight’s sharp glare
we walk into
   a fuzzy unknown
   full of possible suprises

nights are terrible
turning familiar shapes
into threatening demons

nights are sensuous
in beloved arms
never to end
cozy and warm
times to remember

nights are strange
we spend them
doing things
for which the day
has left
no space

reading
   a trivial book
establishing the illusion
   of control
   over our daily lives

   nights are
   the dream world
   where we act out
   what we not dare to live

   nights
   are the backstage
   of our souls

where we rehearse
the visions of our life

the cast changes
the plot
   or what we take for it
remains the same

   we muddle on
   in darkness

taking for granted that
daylight
will come again
and show us
that the dark is
just
the flip side of the coin

forever waiting
until
one bright sunny day
you embrace it and say
“Come with me!”

i want to write
my inner words
i want to let
my deep cries out
but i can't have
you frightened child
stand up against
my vicious doubt