our clothes,
our tattered clothes
are torn up and frayed,
unsightly and stained
the bindings are strained,
they fit no longer
the hemming gave 'way,
they hold no longer

our feet,
our blistered feet
are cut up, in pain,
aching, inflamed
their will's been bent,
they heave no longer
their life's been spent,
they move no longer

our hearts,
our hollowed hearts
are battered and bruised,
worn out and used
all has been drained,
they bleed no longer
their thumping has waned,
they beat no longer

our hopes,
our shattered hopes
are blackened and greyed,
broken, dismayed
all has been lost,
we hope no longer
we're wont to last,
we yearn no longer

our souls,
our flustered souls
are darkened and swayed,
lost and derailed
their glow's been dulled,
they shine no longer
their flow's been culled,
they live no longer

our hands,
our calloused hands,
tho' wounded and gashed,
hardened and bashed
are all we have to show at the end of the day...

Feeling the torn wings and shattered dreams.
Tear-stained pendulum swinging, as my eyes stare down the light in the hallway with a ten-yard stare.
Climbing into my soul, I cling to the shadow of my angel, trying hard to hold onto a ray of hope, like a dream catcher chasing away bad things.
Falling, I realize that in this descent, I am discovering myself on my way to the ground.
Falling endlessly and quietly, without a single sound,
I ask myself how much farther down I must go.
My soul whispers back softly, “Until you’re found.”

-Rhia Clay

A heart divided;
Twice more than breath and dust gave life.
To breathe and love pain,
Both of one, and two minds.

A fickle ocean tide
That rises and falls upon the moon,
Leaving the waves of last thought
To stir the murky surface.
Like embers burn, beneath the ash
The calm reflection of indecision,
Caught perilously perched
Between success and disaster.

The thought thought, and un-thought
To hide the answer from the words.
Repeated and changed over drifting time,
The roving heart beneath my chest.

Will it stop?
Or better yet,
Would I let it?

Then take this from my foolish heart.
Set the path before my feet
And light the lamps along the way,
To make a stand
And keep a vow.

I wish I was made of bulletproof skin and a barbed wire mind
Heart was buried treasure impossible to find
In need of good luck if you've any to spare
Seems mine was carried away like a balloon into the air
I dream of following but I can't sprout a pair of wings
To the earth anchored by melancholy
Held by a thousand strings
Full of too much sorrow there's hardly any room to move
Grief sits on shoulders
An anchor weighing too much to remove
Mirrors at every turn mocking me with my own reflection
Tormenting reminders of each mistake and imperfection
I do not know how much longer I am able to stand on these two feet
Exhausted from daily performance mastered and am condemned to forever repeat
Don't believe my own worth though I try I can't love who I have become
Disappointment stings worse than bees so do all I can to stay numb
I'm waging war with myself and taking bets on which side will win
Back and forth tug of war constantly makes my head spin
Heaven? Hell?
Good? Evil?
Light? Dark?
I have no clue
I'm so lost in madness contained in my soul that it is tearing my heart in two

I have to conquer more fear than a mobile home in an Oklahoma trailer park
So yeah, you can say life's violently left it's mark
But here's the worst part
There's no back to the start
I can't be rebuilt after being torn apart
I'm already a patchwork monster, a piece of work but not art
And as like Dr. Frankenstein, the creator is the monster and only half as smart

©2024