"encases" poems
I am so close
to saying goodbye,
to being finished
because I can't
live anymore.
I walk about
with a smile on my face
while my insides are being
ripped apart,
with a mask so heavy
it encases my body
so densely and restricting
while withering away
whatever is left inside
slowly killing it.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 8:37 PM UTC
Mania. Everything was good when you were with me.
I felt normal. The chains bolted to my eyelids where magically gone, like the money in your bank account after a heavy, drunken, stupor & forthright gambling spree.
The spear in my side that your twin brother, depression, threw inside me was no longer twisting up my insides. Thank you.
This feels like a goodbye letter but I'm actually trying to hold on to you. You give me life. Your twin takes it away and he rash-burns my face in it.
I was accomplishing all the things; skipping from one stone to the next without feat. "Flutter your wings and dance," is your motto.
But like all good things, you drive me away, knowing that I'll see you again.
Try as I might, I remain faithful to you, but you commit adultery every week.
Sometimes you demand my time, even when I'm low. I cry for hours with your natural dichotomy, not because I can't decide--I can--but because you and your twin rip me apart in twain, changing my reality as sure as the rain falls in the Amazon.
The demons call out to me, whispering evil into my mind. I believe every evil thing when I am not armed with your brilliance. I lose that perspective, every time, and sometimes immediately.
Your twin brother and cousin visit me early in the morning right before bed time. If my doubts and fears are real, then my mind's eye is experiencing a real reality, and thus I am as I feel, like a plastic bag tumbling in the wind.
Yet, everyone reminds me that I am but a joke and a comic, one which not even you can trust.
The biggest asset I lose when you choose to cheat on me is your energy--that precious flow that bears my creative passion.
But now I am barren, an unfit conduit that is incapable of maintaining that flow. The demon upon me powerfully weaves its tapestry of sludge that encases my mind.
My mind, it's the only thing I have left. And yet, I can never trust it.
You've lied to me before and you'll lie to me in the future.
But for now, I'll have to make do with your half-truths.
Until next time.
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 3:55 AM UTC
The black shawl-like quality
Of the nothingness
Wraps itself around everything.
A constant emptiness
That makes all full.
Its veins run blue
And gold and scarlet
And every hue between,
It dies as it arises.
The nothingness embraces all,
Easily, it encases me.
In everything and anything.
And that which I lack
I supplement with hope.
A chain mail lie linked
With fragile expectations
Of love and other drugs,
Other falsifications.
This tapestry holds whispers,
Secrets and blueprints
To all of creation.
Globes of dying light
That crash in the dark.
But alas I can see
Its stars are not cross'd
For me [cue tears],
I fear my script is lost.
Perhaps when the dopamine
Corrodes and rots my brain,
My soul will take the reins.
Connected to the cosmos
It tells me everything,
But yea, it shows me nothing
Except tantalising flashes
Of what could be,
In its swirls of red and azure.
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 7:17 PM UTC
The key to the lock
to the door to the room
with the chest that encases
your heart
is buried just off
the Nā Pali Coast
in the sands of the
Pacific.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
I’m driving on my way home
from a job that doesn’t make ends meet.
Pawned all my gold, silver and chrome
and placed my hat and sign on the street.
I’m living in a creative hell
One that serves me but doesn’t serve well.
Into my flesh I would carve,
“You wouldn’t be a starving artist if you didn’t starve.”
At each red, I clutch at my steering wheel
and scratch my lottery tickets.
Manifest a positivity I don’t feel,
when it scans I hear only crickets.
I’m living in a creative hell,
one that traps and encases me as a shell.
Preventing me from air, society and heat
“You wouldn’t be a starving artist if you could eat.”
I have no certifications and no degrees,
my only trade and skill are the words that I write;
the gift that both comforts and tortures me,
it’s too bad that no one pays for plight.
I’m living in a creative hell,
voicing it quietly while ringing a bell.
Begging for help but don’t want to be rude
“You wouldn’t be a starving artist if you had food.”
I’m living in a creative hell
One that serves me but doesn’t serve well.
Into my flesh I would carve,
“You wouldn’t be a starving artist if you didn’t starve.”
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 1:11 PM UTC
As the stars shine in the dark night sky, my heart shines upon your soul.
The flame encases them, flowing through them, around them
Descending upon the earth they separate
Journeying to find each other again
I will never stop seeing you for what you are.
Her eyes are a fiery world of emotion, volcanic
The depth is endless, shaken from the reality of this world
Soft gentle skin, smooth, unseen perfection
Her mind an endless ocean of thought
She breathes, searching, for the flame that burns within
His mind battered from the constant misunderstanding
The past is over and his new beginning is overdue
Searching for the taste of all that he knows, Searching for the flame that burns within
The universe sets it’s plan in motion
It’s an inevitable fate
Two souls searching, working toward this certain conclusion.
The flame is cast, frequency’s align
Ascending far above the earth
The flames merge once again, bound by destiny
And again the flame encases them, following them into eternity
Forever searching for the merging of the twin flame.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
To the first boy
Who broke my heart
Telling me that cheating
Is really no big deal.
"I forgive you."
To the person who
Wasn't paying attention,
Texting and driving,
Then colliding with me.
"I forgive you."
To the man who thought
It was a good idea
To break my heart,
And his fiancé's too.
"I forgive you."
To the one who said
He loved me,
Yet in public
Wouldn't touch me.
"I forgive you."
To the friend who
Wasn't really a friend,
Pushed himself into me
Without hearing my pleas.
"I forgive you."
To the man who decided
To have *** with her,
Resulting in a pregnancy
That ruined us.
"I forgive you."
To every person
Who has hurt me
In one way or another,
Small or great.
"I forgive you."
To the person who
Can't find it in themselves
To offer forgiveness
Due to overwhelming pain.
"I forgive them for you."
To those who decided
To give this poem a read,
Tell me now if you think
The world is a little brighter.
If not, "I forgive you."
If you cannot find
Love in you, know
"I forgive you"
For the hate in your heart;
For the cold that now
Encases you,
Not permitting that
Forgiveness to take hold;
To love those who
Have hurt us before,
To care because
We all have those days,
To smile and spread
The warmth of love,
To hold someone else
Because you know the ache.
"I forgive you"
For the hate.
"I forgive you"
For the anger.
"I forgive you"
For the lust.
"I forgive you"
For the danger.
Remember to forgive,
We are all the same
Sinners in this hell,
And living in pain.
– billiondays
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
She sloughs off her skin,
stepping out with heavy
feet to let her
coffin fall around her
piece by silk pale piece.
Raw and bleeding,
the water encases her in
a liquid embrace, as
calm as a mother's arms
as quiet as death at midnight.
Naked and alone
the water turning red with
truth and thoughts held
close, she washes away the
weighted thoughts of a future unknown.
What life she must lead,
to hide behind closed doors, locked
against the eyes of those
she so sweetly calls
her dearest friends.
But soon she is clean of filth
and doubt and steps out
into the gleaming lights of reality,
facing again the impeccable
glass of imperfection and truth.
She denies the facts and
slowly recovers, recollects
the pieces of a lie
formed through years
of trying to belong to others.
And slowly, like a geisha,
she paints on a face strange
and familiar, her practiced
hands trembling slightly,
the first crack in a porcelain mask.
It is then she stops,
caught on a stray thought
that has crept from the depths
of reddened water, the realization
that the geisha died long ago.
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 3:54 PM UTC
your freshly kissed skin
smells of raindrops and thunder.
when you lie close to me at night,
i imagine we're in a storm
and the only thing left is
you and me.
when we are awaiting
the final drops
to wrench themselves loose
from the ever-greedy sky,
we lie together under the sheets.
skin to skin.
heart to heart.
soul against soul.
i love the feel of
your freshly kissed skin,
and i love the way you smell my hair.
i love the way your body
encases mine,
so close.
where does your skin begin?
where does mine end?
it makes it feel
perpetual.
the smell after the storm
that binds us closer
reminds me of you,
even when we are apart,
i think of you and me that day.
i love you.
xoxoxo
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 12:09 PM UTC
Night night
Sweet dreams
I doze
Until slumber encases my bones
and gentle rest befalls my eye
This time Nights my demise
I lay peaceful awake till I go
To the land of nod and below
From my mouth emits a yawn
The task will be complete before dawn
Sleep tight
Sleep well
Sleep
my love
Let only dreams flow above
So now shut your eyes
and think of blues skies
Night night
Sweetdreams
I doze.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
I stand before you naked and bare,
Vulnerable and scared
With trembling hands, and shaky breath
Because you gingerly stripped me
Of the armor I had long ago melded to my being.
You carefully untied the intricate knots
That had tangled my chaotic mind.
You skillfully unfastened the clasps,
Which held together my crippled heart.
You watched as my insecurities
Fell to the ground in a pile around my ankles.
I stand before you naked and bare
With trembling hands, and shaky breath
Because the impassioned stare your eyes posses
Pierces the façade that I had shrouded myself with.
The softness of your caressing lips
Comforts the exhaustion of fleeing love.
The heat of your searching hands
Melts the ice that encases my thoughts.
The pressure of your firm body
Pushes away the worries of acceptance.
I stand before you naked and bare
Because your love has set me free from myself.
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 2:14 PM UTC
as insanity depicts my pride,
I look at you in a way that I can't look at anyone else,
as you are constantly on my mind,
and the droplets fall in a way like never before.
you're heart encases me,
consuming everything I have within its arteries,
each thought becomes more liquefied,
as I try to stop the pain.
"she wouldn't want you doing this"
I tell myself time and time again,
yet still as the capsule slips past my lips,
I find some kind of release in the burning sensation,
that starts to simmer in my throat.
your eyes, I try to picture your eyes...
yet still you are not here for me to see them in flesh,
one look from you and I would stop,
but one look is something you will not give.
relapse...
a pain that cannot be fathomed by a blade,
as you drag it from your elbow to your wrist.
I was a month clean but I can't help it now,
my body is dead.
Pain is a placid thing,
yet somehow it holds a power over me,
but, when I am with you it seems...
... that the hold it has is simply gone.
I can't seem to rendeer the thoughts of my childhood,
as I continue to do the inevitable,
have I slipped back into my old ways...
... Have I gone too far to go back now.
Relapse...
Relapse...
Relapse...
I am sorry I have let you down,
I am sorry that my callous ways are somewhat spiteful,
I may not have much self esteem,
but I know that I am selfish...
was I selfish in my dealings with you?
in the way I handled your gorgeous smile.
not that I recall..
yet I feel as though I have somehow
left, not to be welcomed back,
into you're arms of grace that make me collapse...
drag me out of this pit
save me from this relapse.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 9:44 AM UTC
Lighting a candle before my bedside,
I slip a small piece of my past
underneath the brass holder
to catch the waxy overflow.
A pink envelope addressed to
(my love)
encases the torn and tattered teardrop-filled
piece of stationery paper.
Your words mush together with the
slight scent of beeswax and sage
and my mind wanders off to an unknown place
3 am:
Awaking to the smell of
an almost-smoke
burning my nostrils
burning my curtains
Is this what it was like
loving me?
Loving you was an ongoing river
each rush getting away from me
the second I felt it
while the rocks, the biggest burdens,
stay in place,
unmoved, unsolved
The light of the candle flickers
as I watch the fiery masterpiece
flow over the room
I lit the candle before my bedside.
I knew the consequences,
repercussions
of loving you.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 5:41 PM UTC
Rose as red
As the crimson
Blood within.
Petals fall
One by one.
Stem as bright
As a healthy
Green hill.
Thorn as sharp
As a razorblade.
Brown and yellow
Slowly encases
The one true
Rose.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC
I can h ea r
a dream,
( ( (vibrating) ) )
through my third e y e
echoes dan c e
from the walls,
a l i g h t passes
through the prism
that encases--
the heart.
\i|o|u/
he tells me
yet I expect nothing.
more of the same patterns
Every thing is
a good omen,
so whispers the air
outside a bar of Narnia.
The banana bread beer flows
through
our glasses like an amber
whirlpool tsunami glistening in the afternoon light.
a pleased smile rests on a face,
comfort,
relaxation and a
full mind.
Deep sleep
for a while.
Contentment is exhaled.
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 11:38 PM UTC
Love is a cold war,
I'm a colder soldier.
My heart has become barren,
A frozen wasteland.
Cracked like the ice
That encases it.
Its been the target
Of many a snowball's chance.
So now I hold
Strong and cold
With weapons in hand
Prepared for this cold war
Which has made me
Even colder.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
Two hearts encased,
chased by a full moon overlooking the black and lucid night.
Like a bright contrasting white light spotlight on things to be.
Mine to yours and yours to me.
Two hearts into one,
the one moon spills a mana spell akin to an infinite, everlasting spoken rune over the ages.
Our stories into one,
Our hearts bond,
timeless...unsung,
It’s skips progressive stages,
beyond words on pages,
in this quiet moment past the reach of the Sun.
The fullest moon,
the furthest reach,
high in the sky contrasting the black lack of light,
night’s version of high noon.
Emboldened to fold into and hold onto you so often,
bending,
blending,
transcending so tight even our souls share light.
Eyes shut, sealed from light,
we feel and grasp and clasp and clinch at every body-inch,
sparking darkest days into brightest nights...
then, all over again, I see you, I pull you close,
and so it begins again this morning or this day or this night.
PART 2
The **** salty taste of your waist encases a place in my brain forever.
You depart...we’re apart...
Miss you fiercely,
love you deeply,
to hold you near,
feel my fears leave me,
if only I could just see thee.
My next morning starts anew with more thoughts of you and how completely I see thee as part of the whole sum of who I suddenly aspire to be.
With every rolling tumble and sweet embrace,
with every chanced glance to give chase,
with every coy kissing peck on my neck,
with every wept tear of joy
with every breath or soulful laugh you employ,
I beseech you,
Mate to my soul,
woman to this man,
girl to this boy,
my heart,
my love,
my trust are yours to have,
to hold,
to embold...
laid bare to infirm or destroy.
By R. Craig David-Copyrighted 2017
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 8:21 AM UTC
Lies are used to Build Walls
Lies are used to Barcade our true selves in.
Lies are used to Hide what we think is wrong
Lies are used to Build a fase world that encases us and destroys our humanity.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC
The monsters in my mind
Are taunting me through eyes
That laugh at me,
Scratch at me,
And beg for time to play.
The monsters in my mind
Distort my face,
Curl my lips into a snarl of pure disdain.
My skin and nose become reptilian,
The hands that touch my features
Become claws of smoke.
I laugh at my shell, it is a joke.
The monsters in my mind
Allow no time for rest.
They coo at me,
Bleeding for attention.
Timid, I close my eyes.
My attempt is feeble,
And the monsters are inside.
My shell takes shape,
It bends to their temptation.
They have control of me,
And I am pushed aside.
The monsters in my mind
Are always there.
Each glimpse of my reflection
Reveals my inner self,
But my eyes hold their stare.
The monsters are aware,
I usher them back in, but to where?
My mind is not my own,
This is not my face.
I do not recognize myself,
Has this become my fate?
The monsters in my mind
Are keeping me awake.
They are alert,
And cannot be tamed.
I am screaming, crawling,
Begging for relief.
My eyes mist from the thought
Of them leaving me.
But who can I tell?
Who can see?
The monsters in my mind are me.
Who could understand my dependency?
They cannot see my claws of smoke
Or hear my hooves
As they tap on the petrified wood
That encases the entrance to my darkest fears,
My deepest secrets,
The parts of my mind that frighten
And intrigue me.
The monsters in my mind
Are cruel.
They are my secret burden,
My constant delight.
They plague my eyes to see
Livid dreams of what could be.
They need attention,
They feed on my weakness,
They devour my light,
And I am grateful.
I enjoy the familiar prickle
That shudders over my shell as they enter my mind,
Controlling my thoughts.
It consumes me,
Washing over me like ****
The monsters in my mind
Hold me captive.
I am Stolkholmed to their urges.
I hold no breath that resists the be tainted
By their gruesome illusions.
They entice me,
Feed me,
Satisfy me,
Until my gluttony physically handicaps me.
I try to stop, I attempt to purge my mind,
But when they ask me why
I lose my will to try.
The monsters in my mind
Never fault.
I am laughing at the pain,
The idea of harm doesn’t hurt.
They will never fail,
I will never waste.
I am them,
And they are me.
There are monsters in my mind
And though I know no rest
I am at peace.
Death no longer frightens me.
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 9:33 PM UTC
We learn from the time that we are fresh and impressionable like wet clay, that every morning when we wake up the first thing we do before we thank god we woke up at all, or before we groan and turn off the alarm, we don our safety goggles that shield our eyes from all the pain and suffering in front of us allows us to cope, blinds us to the truth and reality of the depravity that encases us, in addition these handy dandy safety goggles keep us complacent and resistant to change and improvement. As we go through life the lenses change, affected by the influences we fall under, sometimes a moment of understanding hits and we see it all...Pain, all consuming soul eating grief, mourning all that has been lost or has disappeared...But at that moment I think it is the only time the true beauty of the world can be appreciated, because without the pain the beauty fades to the background unnoticed unappreciated...So now all there is to do is to wake up every morning and see everything all at once and fight against the ingrained blindness and the delusional desire for "pure and simple happiness hold the reality please "
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 8:45 PM UTC
The silence of the night
Encases you,
A dark, silky cocoon
That envelopes all
Feelings of ugliness
And insecurity,
You hang upside down,
Suspended in thought
As the respiration of nature
Breathes in the thick
Black air,
Then as the sun spills
Over the horizon
Like a volcano,
And the faint paint strokes
Of sunlight sets the cocoon
On fire,
All doubt melts away
And you realise
You are beautiful.
Wings spread wide,
A spectrum glimmering
Through each translucent
Fibre,
You take flight
And leave the remains
Of the shell you once were.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 4:36 PM UTC
Claustrophobia sets in with the Sun in the West. Petrichor fills my lungs.
Not even the purifying winds of the Dawning Monsoon can erase the Blackness that has captured my thoughts.
The Sea so vast and blue, is nothing more than an Empty vessel of unending Misery. Grey. Grey everywhere.
The depth is Merciless, the Frothing waves; Crushing.
Swallowed. Eaten alive by my sorrow and that of the Worlds'.
The weight lies heavy on my Incapable shoulders.
I yearn to shed these Chains that bind me. But they bite too hard.
Pinching flesh. Drawing Blood.
I fall to my knees, Naked and Defenseless. Surrendering myself to their Mercy.
The cold wind encases me in its Shroud, leaving me Numb.
I can't breathe. Air. Air. So much of it, None for me.
Blood carpets the Cold marble floor.
Freckled with Red.
I can't scream. I am past fear.
Speed increases. Motions pass. The world dances.
Leaving me in its wake,
Drawing Blood.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
I’ve been,
Crawling,
Under the dirt,
Upon my abdomen.
Searching,
For the tree,
That I will hang from
And be set free.
This skin I wear
Encases me.
When I’ve moulted.
I will be free.
I will wiggle off the confounds
Of bone and flesh
Of space and time
And of birth and death.
I was once
A nymph.
Living on the roots,
Of the tree above me.
I was so small and hungry then,
But I have eaten enough now.
It is time to harden,
This old soft skin.
I’m passing through,
This knot,
In the infinite,
Line of life.
Aligning myself with the inner body.
Squirming out of this old biology.
Going beyond our senses,
And beyond our imaginations.
Cicada.
That inner beauty is shining through,
Becoming the apparatus that moves you.
Cicada.
Listen to the rhythm of your beating wings,
In tune to when the mother sings.
Cicada.
Break this skin,
Seventeen,
In the making.
Am I,
An island encased in a bag of skin?
Or am I,
The entirety of the ocean?
Am I,
An isolated ray of sunshine?
Or am I,
The source of the sun?
Am I,
An insignificant speck on a spinning ball?
Or am I,
Something a whole lot more?
I am, I am.
I am all that I am.
Tricked yourself long ago,
The joke of the speck
Stuck to a sphere,
Spinning out to nowhere.
This body is an egg,
That encapsulates me,
Soon it will hatch,
And set me free.
We are all nymphs,
Seventeen in the making.
Come and crawl with me,
Get down on your abdomen.
We are all going to climb the tree,
And disappear into seventeen again.
Mar 14, 2020
Mar 14, 2020 at 7:11 PM UTC