My rough past, a lonely gravel path that directed me here
One riddled with loathing and fear from myself and every peer
It all pales in comparison to each and every fallen tear
Added to the unforgiving shame of having tried to check out that one year
It's this reign of pain that stops me in my tracks like headlights freezing a deer
It's clear I don't know how to steer and can not get out of first gear
My entire windshield is a rearview mirror, the next tragedy always closer than they appear
My over corrections and over reactions are too severe, they're starting to break down the veneer
Put in place to simulate normalcy and hide the real me but I'm a horrible engineer
The intentions were sincere but this cavalier attitude never allowed the good in me to adhere
I've given in to my dark passenger allowing it to commandeer the space between each ear
At the time I thought it'd be far messier if I tried too interfere with the puppeteer
So I grabbed a few memories as a souvenir and tried to disappear

©2023

I was at the centre of her anger once.
It was violent and unforgiving.
It made me forget who’s mercy I should be asking for.
God’s.
Or her’s

~
Bitter moon

Cold harvest

The fruits of your labor
never to ripen
~

Whimsical youth
absentmindedly fell -
cliffside,
abruptly.

Love to the stars,
oath taken to stone;
to help you,
instruct me.

~

Stillness the moorland
of cherry pie kiss,
unwilling
fruition.

Patience, wise virtue
foremothers instilled,
jeune fille
in submission.

~

Tame was the Beast
at the mountain's heart deep,
lethargic,
sleepwalking.

Wild was the Princess
in her dreams of pink sweet
sins, secrets,
unspoken.

~

Long were the years
under fallen rocks over.
Now doubtlessly
older.

Black was one night,
set her sadness alight,
but the ash left
her colder.

~

Monsters awakened,
set the footpath ablaze,
hopelessly
grieving.

Freedom I call
you, trying to persuade
you, truth
unforgiving.

More the I drink,
The less you do,

So Death is walking with you,
And walking with you,
All alone,

The hate you breed is made for one,
And the drink you took was made for fun, So why is it,
you are alone?

Two hearts or three,
The more the strength,
Two tongues at least,
Should be the length,

The blood it needs to be pure red,
The worse it is to use the dead,
Don’t fail to use the ***** flail,
With rust and mold and hair assailed,

Then spit on dirt and churn the mesh,
For bone will rot like all the rest.
And death will take with curse and sail
And whisk you off to your own hell,

This curse is made with hate and power,
With all four corners,
And angels power,

Don’t doubt the strength,
Of birth and death,

The first and last,
Will be your breath.