Guilt, guilt, guilt
As far as I can see

Weight, weight, wait!
Its crashing down on me

Shame upon my name
Rehabilitate with blame

Change, change, strange
Things still stay the same

Beliefs bleed through eyes,
heels dragging,
unable turn around
or taste the disaster you've caused.

Face strains every nerve,
an attempt to disguise
guns you've fired
hoping to blind us.

Each step washed away
desperately tries to apologize
to the cobbles
stained ahead of time.

Oh how the saying makes me sick
And excuses, there are not
Devicive taunting, hate's mimic
Word's we weaponized from thought.
So, a new turn of phrase,
a saying born within the dark;
Is whispered to myself, alone,
                                                    A Sky-cyphers
Scribbled, trailing mark.
For the first and only time,
Not of me but you
These writing's wordings weave a web,
of synthesized virtue.
To be spoken allowed to oneself,
read, written or thought,
Of each word that's now misused- their purposes forgot.
examined, explained, investigated my life
As if speech were the blade, written words are the knife.

all of the meaning and
every mora, tethers to our mortal coil
Life and it's significance-
A product of its transience.

The concept of fate & of destiny, too
Both insinuate journey, the movement through
How, now, can our destinations insue
We'll come Home, its depths, are dreams of blue.


*between the church hymn
And under haiku
It is,
Ravled in deep bules

I built walls where bridges once stood
stone upon stone of my own making
a fortress of doubt, of fear, of pride—
until even the voices that called my name
sounded like ghosts in the distance

I had friends once, real ones
The kind who saw the storm in my eyes
and stayed to dance in the rain with me
The kind who knew my silence
wasn’t rejection, but a cry

But I let shadows whisper louder than love
let insecurity pull me toward hands
that never meant to hold me
I traded warmth for cold, truth for illusion
turned away from those who stayed
for those who never would

Now, the echoes of laughter haunt me
memories like open doors I closed too soon
Regret is a heavy thing
and silence heavier still
How do I find my way back
when I was the one who walked away

Would they still hear me
if I called their names again?


@Erennwrites

I am nature.
I am tidal waves.
I am a doe surrounded in a flowered clearing.
I am a pack of vicious, snarling dogs.
I am fear.
I am always reacting with flight.
I am an Arctic freeze.
I am a ***** in heat.
I am thawed.
I am flood.
I am the wood of a madman’s arc.
I am what brought you here.
I am what rots away.

We met three times
Over fifteen years.
The disagreement paled
In light of his diagnosis.

He unexpectedly appeared
At my door, then stood in my kitchen.
He had a few serious questions
About brotherly affections,
And after spitting into my sink
(the poor man)
He wondered if I thought less of him
For not sending cards at Christmas and birthdays.
Is that what he came to say?

Next was at our last family wedding.
He was still steady on his feet.
We were five Irish lads.
The sisters said he was the handsome one.
He was.
There are six of us posing in this final shot.
He's wearing a Lucille Ball tie,
Losened around his neck,
Yet covering the gill-like scar
Running from lobe to lobe.
His hands are buried deep
In his pants' pockets.
His smile says Good-bye.

I saw him for the last time
A few weeks later,
Standing, bent and coughing
At the intersedtion of the roadway and Nature Trail.
His rib cage raging from contortions.
He waved off an offered ride.
And then he was gone.
It took us years to get here.

The soft murmurs
of deep repose
whisper to me,
a breeze across my shallow heart,

As I slip into blurred lines
between life and eternal rest.
The unruly yet calming
resonance blesses my weary eyes
with a tender kiss.

Above, clouds continue
to grace the sky,
and even then,
I can't seem to muster up
whatever resides within;

This tide of once pure emotion,
I now must learn to resist.