Every night keeps within it's protective cupped palms
At least this much; few bright moments of calm.
But she was a night so perfectly wedded to the dense dark,
Even in love, doing diabolic best, as if nothing else'd work
Never occured no other,in her thoughts or deeds ever.
But he seemed to be not aware of his eye sight's fatal error,
Always read all her printer's devil just as if all of it's right,
Her many decisive acts finely co ordinated, finished him quite,
Love the first casuality, gave an impetus, then followed the rest.
He who fell head over the heals for her, slumped face down in the pit
comfort; a sin and a saint,
false hopes and warmth
between the sheets of cotton.
weaving my hands into the threads,
my hair binding feathers and freckles
to this tiny piece of satisfaction
amongst the twisted doubts of December.
episodes of expectations;
hollow danger diseases threaten my
humor, humanity, humility;
i am frightened that my future
will implode, that the earth is dying,
that my words are not good enough,
that i am not good enough.
so this comfort i am clinging to,
sinking my nails into, resting
my head upon,
is keeping me from moving forward,
but saving me from giving up;
my stagnant sanctuary of twenty-two.
depression dreams and procrastination poetry
Spider Webb's of depression rain down from these walls.
The scent of musty clothes gathered like a rug on this floor.
Dishes overflow the kitchen sink, wrapped with anxiety just waiting to be clean.
But my mind awaits the title wave to wash all this pain away.
There may or may not have been a time set to tidy, where it went if it's gone I haven't a clue as the bricks of my life are weathered and frail some lay beneath my feet, The wood to rebuild it is too warped for any future so I will lay myself down and sleep it all away, as I've come to conclude what people use to say ,this too shall pass, and so it does to the same way I feel today.
It overwhelms me sometimes to think I use to be made organization to this caused by depression
I fear the unreasonable indeterminate,
Anxiety that gushes over like a fountain.
My body is trapped in lethargy,
Naught an ounce of motivation to move.
I begin to step and prove,
That my anxiety has turned me petty.
My thoughts trap me in my pain,
I begin to question my fate:
Why do I fear the unknown?
Why can't I escape?
Why haven't I grown?
Why is there a hole; a gape?
I enter into another phase called apathy.
It turns into blatant antipathy.
It exhausts my soul until I become empty.
I get filled again due to hypocrisy and piety.
I wake up; wanting to go to bed.
I can't sleep; my anxieties cover my head.
I get frustrated and I ache.
I give into despair and break.
I get fixed; inescapable, I said.
...I can't escape
Change is movement and I'm stuck.
Stuck and I cannot find the words.
I was pushed into a cold pool
with all of my warmest clothes on.
I chose cold and heavy over nakedness.
How long will I shiver and stumble?
it’s the razor's edge of winter
and kissing you smells like mustache wax.
you drive me to the hardware store to pick up galvanized wire
so that i can build miniature shadow people
that make us laugh for hours
it’s hard to find the soft parts of you to rest my head on
but it’s always the simple parts that i like best
Since then...I allowed my heart to take whatever form it wanted.
I trusted the process, letting the heart mould itself as it is supposed to.
I had ample faith that the end is far....little did I realise the end is right next to me.
At first, it felt like a bulldozer had savaged my entire being.
Your words left my mind empty, without a way forward.
A deep grave of hate slowly formed...that is where you would end up.
As appetizing the thought...I want nothing to do you.
Even you residing in my den of enemies is not worth it.
I have done a thorough clean up of hoodlums and heartbreakers like you.
You seem so pointless. This anger towards you is pointless.
I look forward to the treasures that will bloom from this. I'm convinced there are treasures.
You have no hold over my dreams and I refuse to allow my heart to slump in your filth.
It was hard, felt like the world was dumped on my shoulders, soul dark and heavy, mouth dry and tears flooding my living room.
But after a serious self-talk....I remembered my worth, remembered you mean nothing to me....you have no hold on my destiny.
The love you spoke of was and is fake. I don't need it.
I don't need that sort of make-believe love which has no truth...
The kind that loves the idea of love...yet despises love itself.
I have no place for thieves and liars....robbers and fakes.
My mind keeps telling me this is for the best and that better days are to come.
I feel sorry for the one you chose, she knows nothing of your hoodlum ways and smooth tongue.
Coated with every lie possible yet disguised with a fake-romance finish.
She knows not of your empty heart...
your inability to be real...
your other side...
your effortless ways of hurting another...
precious time which meant zero to you...
your exhausted yet experienced hands..
your over used 'I will wait for you'....
your conniving ways disguised by caring efforts...
your smile and charm packaged by pure deceit.
She is clueless. And so in love....I shake my head in despair for you dear sister.
I trust you will not endure the heartache I did.
I hope he will see you a better person than I.
I trust he repects you. Genuinely loves you.
She will bear the brunt of your heart smashing ways.
I am done and over the 'could haves & would haves'...
New day brings new opportunity.
Time to listen to my soul and feed my mind.
Re-enjoy the beauty of living and re-mind myself of may chosen path.
the body is desperate
force me to breathe
i forgot how
say it, I'm on the brink again