The past speaks
to the present
often loudly
and with rancour
not content
to be buried:

revive me
reconstruct
the foundations
I've laid
let them perish never

for
there's a beginning
in everything
too well you know
I've been used
and abused
spited upon
and misinterpreted

wrong
must be righted
lest truth
be crucified
I await
to be resurrected

I was the voice
of conscience
the repository
of every man
and woman's tears
the refuge and sanctuary
of their pain and fears
the face and emblem
of humanity
over countless years

I stand
in dignity
still--
I won't step aside

I'll fight
for my right
oblivion
I'll not accept
lest in silence
I waste away
and in some
forgotten corner
weep and die.

I take a step forward.

Liquid dropping on the ground.
The colour red falling without any sound.

I take a step forward.

The sky starless.
My mind filled with darkness.

I take a step forward.

Desperate cries ringing into my ears.
Trying to let me shed some tears.

I look over my shoulder.

I smile.
Your eyes in denial










I take a step forward.

i used to be able
to sleep

wasn’t afraid
of getting up
and facing my day
could take an
afternoon nap
in my own bed
without having dreams
that woke me up
heart racing

disjointed ideas
and people
novocaine and needles
in my mouth
drugs to numb me
being able to fly
over sharp mountain peaks
of white circus tents
in the rain
being chased by
villains in black capes
the fear of dying

my loved ones
decaying houses in the
middle of town
having ***
needing ***
and melting down
crying and sobbing
old familiar panic
a lump in my throat
the fear of

something
what?

“you have to tell her
you have to tell your mother”
not his voice
but his voice of reason
blowing gently
through the scene
the memory of
a dozen conversations

my head in his chest
his hands on my back
and the crippling
paralyzing
panic taking
over my body

i was never afraid
of the psych ward
i was afraid of the woman
who put me there

of the threats
the bribes
the guilt
and the way she
could win every fight
and leave me
choking in the dust
of words that wouldn’t
squeeze out past
the lump in my throat

the fear is of
falling apart
and when i begin
to unravel is when
that fear becomes
debilitating

what am i
afraid of
in this dream
that doesn’t
even make
sense?

not the fear
of falling apart
because i have
already collapsed

the fear
the fear
the fear
the fear of

i can’t allow myself to admit it
but i have to

the fear is
of her

that’s what’s behind
it all i’m afraid
of my own
mother

and why
am i afraid?

what can she
do that will
actually hurt me
endanger me?

how much power
does she hold?

and that’s when i
wake up
shivering and
thirsty

i’m falling
through the cracks
in my own
conscience

i can’t be a perfect
person and i
know that all too well
but i resent myself
for the flaws in me
i can’t seem to change

is it that i can’t
change or that
i don’t want to
don’t try hard enough?

the thoughts
begin to loop
around themselves
and form a strong
rope that snakes
it’s way around my
wrists and chest
and begins to tie
off my airways
from oxygen

if there is one
thing i know
it’s women that
use your own words
against you
women who find
satisfaction in
the power of making
other people hurt

i know
i’ve seen it
experienced it
and it’s tempting
oh so tempting
to do it myself

but the worst
thing i could do
is let myself become
those that hurt me

flip over
try the other side
and the more i think
about the sleep i need
the more time passes
and the less i get

if only
i could just
get some peace
in my own head

you are a silhouette cut-out.
if only i could fit into you.

out of proportion?
parts; poking and cratering
across my body to make
this mismatch of flesh.

am i god's leftovers?
or is that too divine?
i'm what everyone else
simply left behind.

i thought my heart
too big, too full, too red,
but the dark side of it,
is horror, near-dead.

disproportionate - yes.
in the physical, emotional,
metaphorical sense.

i am an uneven hill surface.
cannot complain when no one
bothers to clamour across it
to see the dark side of the moon.

I hate but love the monster
They're tricky that way
One day I want to slay the monster
The next I want to embrace it.
Its the only thing that has stayed by me all the way

Run down the stairs of despair
A fast descent
Nothing has ever been clearer
My will and hope bent
Death the final chapter

my head feels so full
and so empty
at the same time
it feels like nothing
and everything
at the same time