Can’t seem to tell if this light is real
or just some rude glare
getting my hopes up.
Subconsciously avoiding it all,
playing roles to suit situations,
never dealing with the truth,
like a widow who still makes
breakfast for two.
Peeled away from the glue of reality,
finding a better adhesion in avoidance.
Unwinding a mind that’s been tethered
to the same ideas for years proves tedious and redundant.
It’s all just memories,
hauntingly replaying the past,
or getting caught in conjured up
apparitions of the future:
there is no truth here.
Only distorted perceptions
that turn to deception and a saving grace
for the face we would rather not show.
And we run like clocks, ticking thoughts
like time bombs fueled by fear for the future,
as youth has failed to learn to tell time.
The seconds are never long enough,
yet are frivolously coaxed to go faster.
Conflict becomes nonexistent,
too afraid to look it’s direction.
Choose selections that are selfish,
but easier to manage.
Staying silent strangers,
like blind men in a house of mirrors.
Put convenience over necessity,
and necessary dies.
It can be seen upon the moon,
in sad and disappointed eyes.
Maybe I assume too much.
Dream of Fall in June too much.
Stare beyond the moon in lust.
Beg the stars for warmth and touch.
Seek the meaning of false rhymes.
Testing tempo, wasting time.
Mind beyond horizon lines
hides from eyes and warning signs.
Racing thoughts and tracing stare.
Fear drops by to stop and glare.
Fight, don’t let it take me there.
Inhale deep, become aware.
Look, and feet are on the ground.
Tether down this brain abound.
Silence, soul can feel the sounds.
A hopeful heartbeat proudly pounds.
Your ear lent to my pain
would be a blessing.
My self disdain
by your presence lessening.
nor needed through tears.
Ears enough to steer
thoughts away from their taunting
and haunting demeanor.
Thoughts become clearer
as sharply soft ears
utter, “I don’t understand,
but I’ll always be here.”
I have two internal measures
for the way that I behave;
a mental slave to personalities
conflicting through the day
and I particularly hate
when both collide
in times of stress,
one's a mess, the other’s message
slides under messy depressive
states of habit I’ve constructed
to survive and mime reality,
unrelenting muscle memory
devised from grooves in symmetry
through brain and grained gray matter
a pattern cyclically repeats
and I’m defeated just before
I get to stand on my own feet.
Living with mental illness #yourenotalone
Soak this throat in poison
wait for haunted gasping breath.
Fear triggers the notion
that I might survive this death.
Heavy sunken depressed chest,
windpipes start to burst.
Chorus plays from chords in test,
shrills have been rehearsed.
Skin held up as hostage
to the blooming of false wounds.
Blood betrayed and caustic,
crimson black hypnotic hues.
Eyes roll like dice inside
a floppy falling head.
Final breaths discreetly hide
regretful words of dread.
Open to the world in blue,
lips no longer tremble.
Scars explain the tried and true
existence now dissembled.
Know this flesh contained no hope,
this chest held no new light.
Better death and I elope,
so we can cease this fight.
It’s not my place.
It’s not my place to tell you you’re ignorant.
It’s not my place to tell you you’re disrespectful.
It’s not my place to tell you you’re unhealthy.
It’s not my place to tell you you’re wrong.
It’s not my place to educate you.
All of those perceptions and behaviors are your path, your truth.
It is ONLY my place to BE the compassionate, the respectful, the healthy, the charitable, the intelligent, the confident.
My only purpose is to be my values
and love whoever follows
and whoever doesn’t