“I love the rain and how it tells me that even the great skies cry over something, too.”

How disbelieving and cruel
That we are embroiled in wars
Yet no one takes charge
No one takes hold of the pain
Not until they've seen blood
Peppering the ground like a vineyard
And canyons like fireworks
In the air
Not until the ghost of Hiroshima
Haunts their backyards
Not until their souls jump out
of their doors
Not until the streets carpet enemy boots
Not until guns lay in tables with the evening coffee
Not until the television casts a shadow of panic
Not until then, even.
Not until gunpowders fuse in with the uninvolved morning dew
Not until everyone talks about it
Not until expensive towers devalue into rubbles
Not until a dreaded call about the dead stabs a mother's ears
Not until a child becomes an urchin on the streets with no memory of his father
Not until bones break, souls crush under the gripping theatrics of war.
Not until the eyes see what the mind does not believe.
Not until nightmares take shape in stories
And maybe not even then.

Depression is so terrible. You are so sad you feel like the melancholy will stretch forever. But I have to **** it up and pathetically write this down at 2 in the morning.

My head is knots on knots
No cheeky red faced scout
Oaths to untangle
Except perhaps
people crazier than I

Sullen as a brick on the wall
Imposed as a figurine doll
The ant-like people
Look on and leave
As if I was a bad show,
Their awareness too
untamed for
my script.

Not Scarlett O' Hara
With lovers on a row
No, no, no mister
I am an antiheroine
Waiting to happen
The world is my stage
Unlike Hamlet certain that
I am going
to be.
 
My wings have
Fallen flat on the
road like gravel
But I make feathers
From leaves people
Leave behind
And sew them
Like stitches in
My spine.

No.
I am not the person
You read in books
with jargons sprawled
Like fancy words only
money could buy.

I am stuck in the walls
Everyone stares when
They get too stuck
With pain and alcohol
Dreamt like hallucinations
Refused like a cul-de-sac

Do not play me
Like a ragged doll
Of your forgotten child
Or a roadside blossom
plucked in fickleness
For I have become
This and that.
This and that.
Over and over
The pawn and
The king
All at once.

1..2..Wait.
I can't seem to do it.
Can I take a breather?
Should I move closer?
Do my eyes bother?
Nervous as I am,
I'll try, okay?
Here we go..
1..2..****.
Am I being ridiculous?
I don't know what to do.
I'm lost in your eyes.
Can I move closer?
So I can hear your heartbeat.
Yes-- this seems better, dear.
Love, I couldn't say it out loud.
What? Closer?
Here, any better?
Because you just got me bad.

Come, child, let us play,
Let us feel the the world together.
Let me be your friend.
Forget about them.
Their mean words hurt?
Yes, that's why I'm here, child.
To ease the pain.
To release the anger.
To them, who always hurt you,
Where was mom anyway?
Oh, there she is.
Screaming with dad as always.
Something new?
Leave them, child, and come with me.
We won't be far.
Just near, by the river,
With no one but the two of us.
Child, come, let us jump.
No, it won't be long.
Come, child, you'll see.

A white fog
seeps into your brain
it whisperers sleep
things need doing
but nothing you
can't do later
fog should be
chilly and damp
but this is warm blankets
on a winters day
it makes a good case
but when the fog
rolls away
it might be too late
to do
what should've been done.

---

i

blue grey clouds
of crushed
velvet

sunlight
tears
the
seams


ii

embers of
delicate peach
ignite flames
of fuchsia

the orb of
sun burns colors
away to ashes

blown into floes
of white
mare's
tails


iii

tiny bird
settles restless
on the
highest
branch

flits
away


iv

wind
through
the weathered stones
cries then whispers

luring
the children
who lie within our ribs
to break free
and sing
songs
of
play


v

mamalaria
cactus
wears her
wreath
of
pale
lavender
flowers

sings to
her babes
clustered
below

saguaro
listens



soulsurvivor
(C) 9/13/2015