the feelings that exist don't seem real
suddenly relief is beginning to rise up
change may be waiting on the other side of the twisted highway
on the other side....
ON THE OTHER SIDE....

Brian Hill - 2020 # 301

The growth I wish for you will burn strong-
just like your picture and the dried rosemary did tonight.

The slicing sting of the blade as it strokes my skin
Is not pain
But relief
From the raw bleeding within.

The draining drips of crimson as it drowns the floor
Is not unsettling
But reassuring
Compared the truest stomachache of all.
Living

Don’t you get it?
I can’t stop
I can’t stop running it through my mind
Replaying moments every time
I’ve tried once, I’ve tried a thousand times
I can’t just stop

Don’t you think I’ve tried?
Every piece of advice is just adding salt to my wound
Cheer up, snap out of it, relax
Like I’ve never tried giving myself the chance

So understand,
My mind isn’t like yours
No matter how hard I try
The thoughts just seem to multiply

I can’t stop
I can’t snap out of it
All I ask is for you to understand it

i think closure is achieved when,
you used to get hurt because of them,
and now you're wishing them the best

and you mean it.

have a good life.

I looked at myself in the mirror,
Broke a glass,
And held it against my face

Instead of slicing into my skin
Like my mind so desperately desired,
I watched as
My eyes fluttered
And started a steady stream,
Which fell and accumulated
Into a pool at the bottom of the glass

When the stream ceased,
I pursed my lips to the jagged edge
To drink

The sharp glass
Smoothly sliced into my bottom lip
And just as the clear stream flowed into my mouth,
I started to bleed

The blood mixed with my tears,
I swallowed,
And as the salty liquid travelled down my throat,
I realized that I was tasting pain
In its physicality
And yet somehow,
I felt relief

You will not
Feebly try to waft
My attention away,
Nor use inebriant half no's
To divert mine intent,
No slack jawed half closed unfocused
Gaze will look searching
My face from a haphazard pillow,

For I will not permit That easy excuse,
Nor will I be a
Half memory or an
“Oh that happened - again"
There will be no groggy awakening
Thick with the night before's effect
To face a morning guilt or shame,
Oh no...
Not this time,

This time amidst
The trees and dark
Your every sense
Will know the path We tread,
And not by map nor memory,
For none before ever felt like this,
And there are no maps on page or screen
That show or describe the delicious
Delight of our destination,

So all unknown Dreamed half of,
Yearned for in
That sense of "there must be more",
And here it is,
Alive and true and happening not in a screen near by
But you,

A you who is free
Of alcohol and drug,
A you who's mind is clear,
A you who is party to what may follow,
A you who adores not endures the
Anticipation the foreplay
And the game
Above all a you who takes full part,
Who says yes because she's asked,