Why am I so angry??
I can only cling to what's left of my sanity...
I'm barley holding on...
I tried Lord...
I tried to love someone.
I tried to trust someone..
I tried to look past all the bad..
I tried to forgive him Lord...
I tried to bring sunlight into his life..
I thought I was his sunlight...
I believed I was it...
if only temporarily...
I believed it...
I cant help but wonder why I deserve to suffer as much as I am but...
I'm sorry for not being perfect.
I'm sorry I wasen't enough for him...
I'm sorry I couldn't be his sunlight...
And I'm sorry I couldnt handle the pain he caused me..
I know you hate divorce...
But look into my heart...
Tell me what you see...
He doesn't care anymore..
See that I loved him as best as I possibly could, and even though it wasen't good enough for him... Remind him someday that he once was utterly deeply loved...
And that it was real.
Lord, I think....
I've suffered enough...
Please, Ease my suffering...
and forgive him..
Help me to forgive him...
And the cold hearted man he's become.
I refuse to believe this is who he really is...
And I choose to believe one day he will realize his ways and try as I have and he'll come seek you.
But Lord please forgive me...
Sometimes they intrude accompanied by waves of terror.
Most times, though, they prance in unashamed as if they were an old friend, thought to be always welcome.
What they do not realize is that I desire to leave them behind, like whispers lost in the wind.
"They" are those thoughts of death that visit me in all hours.
They have no boundaries.
They rustle through my thoughts while I deliver baked goods to neighbors.
They pester me as I laugh - really laugh - with loved ones.
They are a familiar companion during those cold drives in the rain.
They prompt me to think of the notes I might write for friends if I leave.
They make sure they are never forgotten, especially when I think I'm ready to move on.
a familiar poison
a seemingly eternal toxicity
an incurable disease
a malignant influence
and so many other things.
As much as I call them these things, though, there is one thing that I can never deny - that is:
"They" are familiar and familiar things are not forgotten.
A thousand eyes but
A single face
That silently pleads
With muffled cries
For someone to save her
Dry her tearstained eyes
Thousands of people but
She’s all alone
With dirty hands
And calloused feet
Begging of strangers
Who’s eyes won’t meet
A thousand voices
A single plea
And blistered feet
Her shallow stomach
Has her doubled in pain
She finds some cardboard
To shelter from the rain
A thousand questions
She sits alone
A slave to her fears
Her eyes close
Still broken and lost
She’ll sleep the night
But wonder at the cost
A thousand people
Walk down this street
Somebody sees her
She feels their eyes meet
How does it end?
Does she get what she needs?
You are who sees her
So you tell me
food tastes better when nothing had to die for it,
cry for it, lose its precious life for it.
your burger tastes like murder
your bacon like lives that were taken, shaken, foresaken.
you dig your polished fork into pork as you talk
about how the oceans are shrinking, sinking, wishful thinking.
you serve fish on a gleaming dish as you wish
that numbers of whales, eels, sharks and seals were not dwindling.
you spend time crying for the polar bears dying
as your bacon is frying, and it isn’t the only thing.
you gorge on tender beef although you aren’t the thief
that stole it’s very life from it.
you chit chat about mass extinction and animals dire fate
whilst the crux of the problem sits on your plate.
Brings up the hole in my dreams, white dressed mannequin overlaid with sequins,
her dress form baring my hide, skinny legs in skinny jeans, faced with her blue eyes.
This constant storm of thick regret, plays aching words through my stiffened threads. I am startled by the tinge of when he picks at my strings, his fingers cueing up my grief, I'm
transfixed by such staunch memories.
From this September thru December all that is anxious wrecks this time, blending stages of unconsciousness with the right to bide these rhythmic tidings outlined by the rigor of her whines. Bent by the rocking of the sea and the buried screams beneath, herein these mouths are tanned from where these voices once laid command.
Subtly superior, yet haunting in its serenity and clause, the metal stretched across her jaw, and while the dove is drugged, she cannot bestow her love, she is betrayed thru the very lens that halted life's immenseness and intent. Draped in her hospital gown, even her crown forgone, her gurney replaced her throne, no more royalty will she ever know.
Soma sudor, spit begrimed at ends, tiffs being had with friends, he takes away the organs, sends me back to consciousness with the bends. Every lock of hair I wanted, every piece of night I held, all my organs have been dismembered, all the luck I had is lost. In the corner of my iris there's a prime instance of despair, something left on a scrap of paper, though I could swear it looked like underwear. When the locusts fill this mind with every cadence indisposed, then they flourish on my body, leaving once they've eaten off my clothes.
Hours were my pajamas, where I slept once, now I lie. I'm the afterthought of courage, even in this heady nausea I once found sublime. Here this corpse doesn't leave a shadow, missing time where love bid supine. Even the wind it curdles in me, where no heart beats from this life.
With a child inside this bullet, art existed on her face, twice it eradicated lying, but not the murder debt betrayed. Simple sin on the interstices, connected by the dots where pleasure writhes. All my hands are covered by this fever, where my mind has gone to die.