#blinds
Here, the wind whips
The desert sand
Into a furious haze
That blinds all in
It's vicinity
Here, my neighbor is
Dragged out and ******
And my other neighbor
Is drugged out, ******
Different burden, different labor
I pray,
On my knees
Toward the east.
I pray for change
I beg and plead,
Please
Jun 7, 2023
Jun 7, 2023 at 7:41 AM UTC
Why do we exist to merely die in the end?
What is the point in simply changing our way's of communication?
Why must we feel pain before we can feel whole?
There are no answers to these and yet,
We all have our answers to each question.
Each answer either being chosen for us by written scripture of the past,
Or by our own past experiences,
But one thing is for certain,
The only answers that we can get to these questions,
Are from our own past's.
The past does influence our future,
Yet our future is what alters our past,
It blinds us into thinking that we were someone we were not,
It binds us to think we have changed,
When in reality,
The truth to all of this,
Is that it doesn't matter.
Sep 6, 2021
Sep 6, 2021 at 10:46 PM UTC
Getting through to her
was like trying
to talk to the window
with the blinds closed
and the curtain's drawn.
Mar 24, 2020
Mar 24, 2020 at 12:30 PM UTC
Closed blinds
And morning breeze
I don’t want to leave here.
The sun beckons me to rise
Demanding an awakening
But I am not there yet,
Heart still heavy
From carrying grief
Eyes still burning
From drowning in acidic tears
Lungs still weak from suffocating between each breath
Throat still coarse from the cry of
“Abba please, take my life.”
If I rise,
I am sure to face it again.
And it will have its way
With my body,
Screaming and crying a horrific noise,
Falling to the floor as everything inside of me seems to shatter,
Like broken glass being crushed
all over again.
And I will wait there
Curled on the floor
Until it is done leaving its mark.
Then I will stand up
To finish the routine
Wash my face
Put on a smile
And move on with the day.
Heaviness used to find me at night
But now I arise and find
It is in my bones
And under my skin
With me every place I go.
So I would rather lay here
Silent and broken,
Defeated and unarmed
Surrendered to these bed sheets
And white walls
Than to face the fight
Against the darkness
That kills me piece by piece.
For there may come a day
When there is nothing left it can take,
And it will have all of me.
So there will be no fight today
As if being paralyzed was a choice
Under the weight of a pain
So heavy.
So I let it stay
And roll to the other side,
Away from the light
Pull the covers a little closer
Take another deep breath
Close my eyes
And wait for tomorrow.
Aug 12, 2019
Aug 12, 2019 at 5:26 PM UTC
You keep on running back to me,
You sneak into my skin,
Banging on my frail bones, shouting
“Please let me come in!”
I try to keep the blinds closed
And pretend that I’m not here,
But you wait until I yield to you
Before you disappear.
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 9:06 AM UTC
Melancholy
seeps in like a
phantom limb
desolation blinds and destroys
Wildfire inside
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 3:20 AM UTC
You have opened my blinds
To a brighter world
To a sunset we all can see
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 2:40 PM UTC
THE CURTAINS WERE SHORT BUT WE DIDN'T WANT TO ABORT,
RATHER, WE WOULD CONTINUE WITH OUR LIFE, THE WIFE
SAID: 'SOME THINGS IN LIFE ARE SHORT AND MUST BE ENJOYED,'
NO NEED TO BE ANNOYED AND TRAPPED IN A CONTINUAL VOID;
WHEN YOU WASH YOUR LIFE IT WILL DROP TO THE RIGHT LENGTH,
A NEW VISION, EVERYTHING YOU NEVER KNEW, WHAT YOU COULD DO,
THEN IT WOULD COME AGAIN, NOT A CREASE, A NEW LEASE,
NOW WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE YEARS, CHEERS!
I SEE THE FOLDS, ONE AND A HALF TIMES, IT RHYMES
WITH CARING, STARING AND GLARING, A NEW BEARING,
THERE'S NEW HOPE - WE WOULDN'T WANT ANY DOPE, WOULD WE?
TTHE SONG'S NEARLY SUNG - IT'S GOOD EVERYTHING'S WELL HUNG,
NO NEED TO TRIM, AHEM, CONSIDER THE TIES THAT BIND,
I'M NOT GETTING UP THERE - NEXT TIME WE'RE HAVING BLINDS.
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 12:17 PM UTC
Some people are blinded by lies, but most people refused to see the truth.
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 6:57 AM UTC
The well-oiled clunk of padlocks
slotting smoothly home
for dark to close off
rooms to outside days
and droned opprobrium.
The morning shine that
carries breezes brimmed
with birdsong must await
the sliding click and clack
of opened blackout blinds.
Open to a bundled clump of
tumbled, crumpled, crass,
incessant, prickling,
self-reflective musings
binding me to doubt.
It is this lair wherein I
rest and find the peace of
reign; 'Tis here I manifest as
Father Time to forge a faulty
rise and set with blackout blinds.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 6:41 AM UTC