Scars and scabs
Come leaking out in drips and drabs
After events that occurred  
And events that shouldn't have
Sand on soles go walking into shoes
And embed themselves there within
Shards of glass buried deep under the skin
Wiggle their way to the surface again
And when life warms to the call of the sun
We pack it all back, for morning has come
Old things get beat down until purple and plum
For newer less blue things to be squeezed under thumb
I worry about my mind and its multitude of storage rooms
Filled with undealt with boxes and musky fumes
Now stuffed to capacity
Those come leaking out too
They tare through the surfaces that have long since been plastered  
And sawed down and painted and polished afterwards
Now my body, heavy and ***** with these returning things
Sheds them part by part in painful rebirth
And after I've been made naked of these morsels in my mind
I'll pack new boxes in my empty  storage rooms from time to time
For a peaceful heart is a dozen a dime
But none is as interesting and messy as mine

Drowned in pills
Her morbid gaze and soulless eyes would send me chills
A relationship empty but a foundation of thrills

Her beauty piercing as to be posey
I just delighted she chose me
Her slightest whim I’d mosey
Or she'd batter, bruise, and expose me

Why me I wondered at times
As her white powders sniffed in reverent lines
Too petrified to ask
Her actions ignominiously grasped

So I left
My feelings undealt
as I wept
With all of my friends gleaming
But I didn't know what to believe in

The illusion of elegance,
copied from her mother.
Childhoods left undealt with,
but she wears her traumas
around her neck in that
beautiful southern style
passed down from her mother.
Enforces her new rules,
ignoring the past that got her there
for a new sense of priority.
Her pearls are lost,
sold long ago by someone else,
and she has forgotten
what they stood for.

Long talks with pointless plots
Words we never heard shimmer in the wind
The cold breeze with attempts to break us free you and me Snow-white woke us up from a middays night to a rare of sights

Highlights of picture perfect memories floating in my head
Giving flight to what lay dormant for so long, that which I have yet said
You've placed reasonable doubt in actions I've left undealt
But look to the sky for my downfalls may come clear and high as Orion's Belt

Something struggling slowly stuttering to breath life once again
A flicker set forth gives hope of strength now and then
Tell me once more how impractical it'd be to live and not know
Through trials and tribulations though not appealing is how we'll grow  

Living on a clock its a ticking time bomb
Condensing each moment but it's my time I thrive on
Stop a moment **** the timer
wide eyed take a breath and hold it
Remember remember before its gone a piece to life's puzzle no need for force or brawn

Tender in all you've rendered complete for most of what's remembered
It's the little things like when and where not who or why just that we were there
No explanation needed for a proper teaching of how you should be treated true
Though human err exists I swear I'm not made of this and that I promise you

For a gift is what time is in this moment
temporarily pleasant or even heavenly for a peasant
Embracing the ticking of every hours races because
Time with you is no better time than thee present.

Don't lie
it's not raining
it never rains
inside

The emotion
you never try to feel
it's here

This is just
you
crying
about the past few months


Don't flee
don't add today to the pile off
undealt emotion
don't add to your own weight
with chocolate

Don't hide
Accept that you are feeling
Accept that life is hard
stay in your emotions
and deal with them
today

Good morning undealt hand,
Unspilt sand varies thy time between distant minds!!

Another lonesome life today I preserve?
Nothing to be heard,
All things are so unsure when thine dead burieth thy own dead!!!

Is that thou?
Or thine past prisoner's number??

I don't hate the people
I hate what they do
As they stubbornly pretend to
Be someone they're not
Real security and confidence
Is not something they've got
Misery is their lot
As they go around faking
Undertaking
To fool those that care the most
Utterly forsaking
A real attempt at making
Genuine relationships
Real and close
I don't hate the people
I hate what they decide
As they put on a front
To cover up and hide
The undealt with mess
And turmoil inside
What they need is not
A good disguise
Or more convincing lies
But to face and embrace
The truth
And towards freedom
Rise

After I lost the home I loved and cherished, I lost a part of me that died along with it. Most people would say it probably was my innocence, but no, that one was already taken from me long before I could even understand what it meant. This one was in my experience much worse, this one wasn’t solved by creating a safe haven or a way of protecting oneself in the physical world. That was a battle I was able to fight, that was a battle full of decay but dissolved by taking back control of my body and thereby my mind, eliminating someone else’s darkness by keep on shining my light. You dying made me fight a battle that was completely out of body and mind, it was on a level of emotions which in that moment completely left me in the dark. You dying made me lose all the trust I had in the people that I love, losing you made me question everything I ever knew, because I trusted you blind. When you died, you took with you the truth about what happened and till this day I still don’t know what went down in that place you were found. Everything about your death is still a mystery. Did somebody take your life or did you actually do it by yourself? How did it happen? Did you trust the wrong person or did you knew you were selling a lie? Were you scared, did you know what was going on? Honestly I can’t imagine you stepping out of it all, but at the same time I never imagined you doing all the things that led up to your death. I still remember the day you never came home, I can still hear the sounds of you waking up and getting ready in the morning while making sure I heard every move you made so I would get up too.. of course I didn’t and you supposedly left for work without me seeing you one more time. Little did I know that it would be the last time I could ever hear you alive. Little did I know I wouldn’t be able to see you ever again. My last memory of you contains the horrible reality of not being able to recognize any of the things I saw or smelled of what was left of you, or even the stories I heard that followed after you passed away. I never saw your face again, never saw a piece of skin I could touch, never found the home I begged for or even a glimpse of who I loved. Who could’ve thought that the one and only person I trusted, I depended on, I counted on, would be able to break those parts of me so violently. Parts of me I couldn’t grab with my hands or make sure no one could ever touch it again. I was defenseless in fighting the pain.

It has been 8 years after this all went down and for the first time I can feel the hurt slowly leaving me. It has numbed my body and mind for a very long time. These 8 years have been out of total control, moving from home to home and from couch to couch, family, friends and strangers. It has been 8 years of being misunderstood by everybody that I knew, 8 years of myself not understanding any of the things I heard, 8 years of not believing any of the things I saw, 8 years of hurting everybody because I was in pain and most of all 8 years of hurting myself in all possible ways. I experienced all the extremes of life by not dealing with life but trying to escape it all the time whether it was with other people or in the end all by myself giving into addictions. Since this year I finally started to create a home for myself, I’m allowing myself to ground into the person I really am, the person I was before all the hurt, before I was damaged by it all. I have no wish for any skeletons in my closet, in my own home there is no room left for undealt feelings, in my new home I make sure that every corner is filled with love. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still crying my eyes out while writing this because I never before looked at this all like I do now. But I choose to heal even the parts that hurt the most, the parts that run so deep I was lost for years. But releasing you is something I have to do, I have to let you go and I have to give you up. I have to admit that you weren’t always right eventhough you tried or thought that you were, I have to be honest about you and that the way you left life has hurt me profoundly and in more ways than the obvious ones. The circumstances under which you died say nothing about the beautiful, loving person you were and writing this doesn’t take away that you will always be the woman of my dreams, the one person I never wanted to leave and just like I always told you when I was still a little kid: you are the love of my life, you are forever my bride and I will love you to eternity. But the wish to heal myself is stronger than any other thing I feel. I won’t forget I chose to be here on earth and I will do so by being the best version of myself I could possibly be.

Disappointed.
I look at my hands to
read your destiny.

I fall to kiss the
moon dust. You were
my desire in sleep.

The spirit hovers
like the golden eagle
to rest the talons.

I stop the game.
Some cards had remained
undealt. I win, I lose.

You were not the
angel. You were not the mortal.
Where do I put my relief?

Welcome to the chamber
where I place all of my anger,
a place where you’ll find danger
if you try to hurt a stranger.

Welcome to the bathroom
that you see in the back room
where the **** rises high
and stinks up the night,
where the pigs own the sty
and the stench brings
tears to my eyes.

Welcome to the ending
of yesterday’s beginning.
Now, face the shadows blending
as prism prisons starts light’s bending,
where darkness does conform
to the wicked arts the corrupt perform,
but dragons still the rule the castles
that knightly fellows refuse to storm.

Welcome to my frustration.
It’s been brewing for a while
and all that boils in the pots
has stolen swollen smiles
and replaced happy faces
with clenched jaws
of undealt with rages.