I write insane poetry’s
          To magnify my desires and the Hell
                     that lives inside me
         Or my soul would have had to settled
                   in its misery and loneliness
in silence.
      And that, I wouldn’t ever be able to live with.
For it would have been a slow death

I read your writings
You said “God was a woman,
But she was not mine.”
And when they say; “my God”
I did not know we were speaking
Of property
Of ownership
Are they truly a God
If they belong

Will you not tell me
Of your longing instead
Not of your wishes
For her to open her pearly gates
I know you tasted heaven once
I know you licked golden honey
From the fountain of life

It seems you will always thirst
For the juice, of forbidden fruit

Last night I was hurting
I felt six years old, again
No matter how loud the music plays
How hard I cover my ears
I cannot change
The way my mothers voice sounds
It echoes from the inside

I do not remember you
You are a strange man
A nightmare
When you crawl into my bed
Your touch all too familiar
I am a mute
To your headless horseman
We are both ghosts
You, passing through my body
Haunting, screaming, possessing
And I, a detached soul
Slipping from a warm body

I ask myself
Maybe my father never knew love
That is why he cannot show it
I turn to look at my youngest brother
I never knew love either
But to him
I cannot help but show it

Run me back
To the house on the hill
To where the trees grow thicker
Perhaps that is where I get my skin from
Today, it will not hold my rage
Still, I feel contained

Have you heard the sound
The mouth makes
When the heart breaks
So loud it looks like screaming
But it couldn't be more silent

trauma is not
a beautiful thing
i'm not a bird
with broken wings
not a sick puppy
for you to save
not a white daisy
growing over a grave
i'm rotten inside
down to my core
grabbing handfuls
of guts and gore
pushing it back
under my skin
so you will not see
the condition i'm in