"unsettles" poems
Suffering stirs up the soul
In agony, there are new realizations
Right in the middle, starts a chaotic vortex
Draining up all the energy, leaving the body numb
The mind is aware, yet it can’t control the situation
Getting more and more ****** into the commotion
The uneasiness unsettles the whole constitution
Shaking the belief for some time, yet, takes a heavy toll
Suffering gives a new awakening, to life’s adversities
Sometimes, we have to silently and vehemently fight
Like a lone fighter, up against, so many enemies
The mind as a weapon, is all you have
Sharpen it and keep it agile, as it’s the only weapon
To fight the sufferings, that gets hold of you
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
#Preface
This is not aimed at a single person, nor written for applause. It is a naming, a mirror, a reminder that truth spoken with accountability carries its own fire. The Witness belongs to anyone willing to bear that flame, even for a moment.
This is not accusation, but naming in clarity:
Projection is the currency.
The herd is the instrument.
Seduction is the method.
Obscurity is the shield.
And when truth enters,
it unsettles the herd.
The first defense is always the lullaby..
soft verses sung to calm the trembling,
to cradle the anxious back into sleep.
But the lullaby is no vision;
it is anesthesia, a narcotic of words.
It soothes so that no one questions
the darkness that holds them.
Yet the mantle descends where it will.
A word spoken in accountability burns like flame,
piercing the fog, shattering the spell.
Even for a moment, it breaks the hold
and shows the rulers for what they are:
*unclothed,
powerless,
undone.*
#
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 2:25 PM UTC
Fear
Judged by irrationality
Hidden in accidental oversights
Feeding the dragon that leaks molten lava in salty streaks of regret
Fear
Empty wasted emotion
Saving ourselves from ourselves
Saving you from me
Worst case scenarios never included you punishing me at the sight of my weakness
Fear
You only love me beautiful
Love is a profound type of collective psychosis
Looks like strength but hides the truth
The truth that certainty is the truest delusion
Fear
On my best day, in the best possible scenario, I am still invisible
Open and still transparent
Full and still forgotten
Insightful and irrelevant my thoughts pour out unheard
Fear
In my demon's shadows lives the truth of my vulnerability
I am weak because I love you
I am a warrior because you love me
I am strong because I love you
I am a lamb because you love me
Fear
Spilling my unseen secrets
My evil self-talk, my mantra of honest lies
The purr of a kitten unsettles a soul beginning to believe it mattered
Pain dismissed in the peaceful snores of a tired moon
Fear
The sun shines in hope on the remnants of dream
On the nightmare of forgotten, overlooked, inconsequential truth
Empty apologies and the familiarity of beloved anguish
Herald the realization, that words don't matter
Truth or lies, faithless faithful, and a newfound silence
Fear
Invisible save for the ash lines that tell the tale
Of how I begged forgiveness for sharing my tormented and twisted mind
Only to be interrupted by the sounds of your peaceful slumber
Fear
To be everything to your everything
and realize I am still........nothing at all
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
Lost all that there was,
No courage to build new.
Sweet Remorse!
Shadows cast do follow,
Guided by a source.
Fades away!
Being insane a cancer,
Sorrows feed on blissful memories,
Chokes the respect for life,
Death deceives laughter,
I am a doomed ******
Sorrows imperishable bind the soul,
Graveness Despair rules my world,
Tearing Blades of animosity,
bleeds me to death,
I am a doomed ******
Scary unholiness destructs all wisdom,
Melancholy songs strangle all smiles,
A streak of lightening burns the mast,
A single thought unsettles the mind,
I am a doomed ******
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
I'm reading poetry at the cremation ghat
amid chanting of God's name
while ferrying and burning the dead.
The noise unsettles me a bit
as sets me thinking of my own death
that by all means seems closer than farther.
Yet I get the relieving feel
reading poems would heal
all the agonies of my flesh
and take me to that spiritual level
where I would take death as
passing into another dimension.
I'm not much of a religious person
but have always felt devoted to my kindred
seeking transcendence through them.
The best thing I'm hoping right now
is when I burn
someone would amid chanting of God's name
read poetry at the burning ghat.
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 4:49 AM UTC
?????????
Time is not flying
the evening hours are so slow, inching by
and spent tossing and turning
my restless mind roams dark avenues
my restless feet roam the bed,
left...right...then back, over and over.
the bed, that was my hammock....no longer sways
a promise of peaceful slumber, flies away,
???????
new and strange images
start to trail me...they're heavy tassels,
tagging on the hemlines of my mind,
seeking to connect...to be known
???????
this late hour, i recall
a forked road, not far from a winding road,
from afar, a child admires a white castle
high as the clouds, its windows, foggy,
its high fence, mossy...on its front lawn
is a treehouse, perched...resting like a bird
inside a very old tree, leaning to its left side,
with a long set of steps...all painted white.
just below the white steps are gathered,
doyens of poetry...seated in their own chosen
corners...tacit, yet, empowered by their brilliant minds
the tips of their feathered pens, smoothly sliding on
paper......strange, that they're waving at me,
why, they could be dead!
???????
i must be dreaming...my muse is showing
me paths, i would think twice of treading
???????
a quartered moon selfishly glows
unsettles even more, my murky thoughts...
yet....my pressing thumb is on my journals
i must heed.........the need.
???????
"o' my elusive unknown poem,
kindly show me...lead me to your home
let my pen give light to your dim path
give second wind to my weary mind and heart,
deny, even a bit of a space......for wrath,
help me, push me...my efforts musn't cease
show me your face...we'll both have peace."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~
~
Sally
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC
I catch the monster in your heart
You catch yourself believing
It's the love I feel for you
That breaks the pain inside
That shakes the lonely night
That takes the hate beside
Shatters the illusion of ego
And unsettles like vertigo
The proud tower of love
But your touch is magic
Only when our fate is tragic
I have to make you see
You want to be free
Dominate me
**** me
Burn my body on the alter
Of love we shall taste forever
When I suffer
I still love you
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 8:07 PM UTC
The stillness after a fresh snowfall
Unsettles as senses heighten.
The bright sky hangs and falling ever closer.
The air is alive with a buzz of the gift.
Through the night light shines as day
And serenity sings.
Fire rolls across the sky, a mighty titan
The lightning dances in and out
The rain falls washing away all disdain
Of what never was.
Your words light the black sky of my mind
Like sparklers and fireworks though
You couldn't ever know.
It’s something about you that I just can't get over.
That hold over me like
The greatest story never told.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
I have not given up on love,
But how I love unsettles many,
The girl I am scares most.
I am the girl who can love someone after a couple days.
I am the girl who can love more than one at a time.
I am the girl who shows more love than some have ever received.
I am the girl who jumps back and forth, because this world is taught monogamy is the only way.
I am the girl who loves those that people think I should not.
I am the girl who makes people jealous by accident, because I give out so much affection.
I am the girl who has hurt people with my love.
I am the girl who holds onto love even if it's toxic.
I am the girl who chases love.
I am the girl who wants to make everyone feel loved.
I am the girl who wants forever with everyone I love.
I am the girl who will give everything to everyone.
I am the girl who is reckless when it comes to her heart.
I am the girl who makes promises about love.
I am the girl who breaks her own heart, but keeps on loving anyways.
I am the girl whose heart people want all to themselves, but that, I can rarely provide.
I am the girl that people want in their bed, but I don't understand why.
I am the girl that isn't safe with her heart.
I am the girl that freely gives her heart away.
Is it safe,
To be this way?
It's likely that it is not,
But I say risks were made to take.
Oct 31, 2019
Oct 31, 2019 at 9:02 AM UTC
(the hours in between)
It is the morning after reuniting, wining and talking...the stirring of the curtains transparent, become slow moving hands and calming whispers of a hypnotist, blending perfectly with the gentle whiff of a breeze...and the soft sounds of one who has just woken...a hint of a breath of life...there is much gratitude.....these early morning whispers could still be heard...quietude is a swaying hammock, but sleepy eyes peep through the window, gazing far, enthralled by the horizon...red, orange, purple.....merging.....against green and brown of the mountains...and from all these mix of colors, finally emerges a sky so blue...a new day is born, the Almighty is most kind...but something else unsettles the mind of one who has gone through many arduous journeys...asking:
"How did I fare"? Can I still...? Will I...?"
Now shining bright is a list of
Things yet to happen...intentions---
Disguised as questions.
Though this has long been conceptualized,
There's this pressing feeling, they must now be prioritized
Pray they soon be realized
Before exit from this world has materialized.
Can I still -
Be brave enough to swim? drive a car? ride a bike?
Meet with distant friends? learn new languages?
Write with more depth, even when I turn 80... and older?
Fly in a plane with my son as the pilot in command?
See my granddaughters finish college?
Will I still be able -
To satisfy this wanderlust endlessly stirring within me?
To ride a camel in the deserts of Morocco?
To feel the sun, the air, even the rain, while walking the cobbled streets in Tuscany?
To spend an evening in Florence?
To visit Greece, Spain, Ireland, Wales, and relive stories read?
To feel and breathe the air there, brimming with adventure?
We walk through various labyrinths in life, so absorbed in our own worlds...hours, days, become prosy, they move oh, so slowly.......still, when the dark is upon us, we sit and reflect...wondering:
Will we see another day unfold before us?
Do we get to witness
The Blue Hours of another sunrise and sunset,
And further be enchanted by the day's breath-taking
A L P E N G L O W ?
How many more
A L P E N G L O W S ?
Sally
Copyright August 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 7:39 PM UTC
I am the firm solid earth
The ground i feel to walk on
But i fear many waters
Great vast oceans
For they smash against my edges
As they seek to drag me down
And **** me in
I hold tight while closing my eyes
For I feel the wind building
Seeking to blow me away
Turning and twisting me
Against my lost self
Blistering and attacking
I fear all fire for it
Spits and burns my skin
Breaking and pushing me apart
As it unsettles my restful self
Destroying and consuming
As my soul clings to self
Like a frightened child
It screams for fear
Of its own life
STAY AWAY STAY AWAY
For i seek nothing
But my own council
As my soul fears lose of self
In the many day dreams
That others bring to me
Like a ferocious dragon
Jealously guarding his
treasure laden lair
I hoard all that is
Precious in me
But I am the stubborn earth
That pushes all away
As time passes I discover
My many deep caves
That lie within my mountains
As I rest in the comfort
Of my own home
I begin to call upon
The many ocean
To rest against my side
The wind to lie upon me
And the fire to rise up in me
For in the sanctuary of my tomb
I am consumed by the richness
Of all that surrounds me
Dust is lifted from me
As I am now as much
The vanishing wind
As the Anchored heart
Blown through the air
I smash against all my sides
And fall as rain on mountains
carving valleys and canyons
Or I am absorbed by fire that
Presses and pushes
Slowly I begin to guide
The many external forces that shape me
With this loose and loving cooperation
I become my own craftsman
Learning to embrace all elements
And truly let go into the world of relating
You become the artist of
Your own face in this world
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
We should never envy the happiness of others just as we would not want them to view us in
the same vein. How is happiness quantified? Who knows the extent of other people's happiness? How do we know whether they are really happy? Are we conjecturing?
Leave others alone. It's totally futile to make any comparison between our state of happiness with that of others.
Let us learn to be content with our happiness however tiny that is. Aren't we lucky not to be living in pain or sorrow? To wish to have our happiness augmented is indicative of our discontent. A true malaise that would be.
No one can be totally happy neither can we have the same degree of happiness all the time. Our happiness has its ebb and flow and this duality we should always remember.
Happy people also have unhappy days just as unhappy people might have some happy days. Life viewed from this perspective is an alloy of happiness and sorrow.
With that in mind, we can assuredly say that happiness and unhappiness are not mutually exclusive.
If we can understand and accept that life is never perfect, that our happiness is only a contingency as all other aspects of our life are , we would have done away with that which unsettles us and would be a step closer to achieving contentment and tranquillity in our individual life.
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 9:12 AM UTC
Reading the words of a woman of flames
gone up into the sky at her will
with greater forces inside her than in a planet
I feel quietly disturbed
sad that I cannot help her
make her happy somehow
but she was smarter than me to be sure
smarter than most.
She knew what she wanted,
I only wish that it had been happiness.
I read her words sitting on a rock by the lake,
the rusty green water licking the large white stones.
I take a long flat leaf and tie it inside itself,
once straight, now making it form an L.
I toss it with some vigor into the water
but it only goes inches in front of me,
oscillating in the shallow,
wanting to come back to it's creator.
I knew that she saw beauty in the world around her,
I wish ardently that I could know why it was not
enough.
What great awful power must have pushed against her.
That I am in the same world that once carried her unsettles me;
that a world may be ****** and cruel by one's perception,
and not by another's.
I see a dragonfly with it's impossible wings
trying with all of its self
to go against the wind of an indifferent lake.
Into it she plunged
I sit but on the edge, looking.
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
I thought I had a thousand words
Folded, like cranes, to gift you
My mouth cannot make their shapes,
They taste of regret, which
Unsettles me, you
Once as familiar to me as
The veins that decorate my
Wrists that I offered you, soft,
Meatless and vulnerable, I
Handed you a cunning blade and
Prayed you would not cut too deeply, or
Too casually, with disregard, I
Took my time in concluding that
A weapon must be passed, with
The blade turned inward, toward
The one who would be wounded most harshly, were they
To stumble and fall upon the cutting edge of trust.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
#
The carnival is loud.
The voices rise in competition,
each one pulling for the crowd’s attention,
each one demanding to be seen,
to be known,
to be applauded.
But none of it lasts.
The bright lights will flicker,
the tents will come down,
the applause will fade.
And the ones who built their names
on the roar of the crowd
will be left alone with their silence.
You feel this, don’t you?
The moment after the rush,
when the thrill of being seen
is not enough to keep you full.
The moments between performances,
when you are left with yourself.
You have felt it.
And because you have felt it,
you cannot unfeel it.
That is the nature of truth.
It does not beg.
It does not force.
It simply remains,
waiting for you to turn toward it.
But not all will turn.
Some will sell the last of themselves
to the carnival,
to the barker’s voice,
to the fleeting thrill of attention.
Some will press their hands over their ears
until they no longer hear the call at all.
Some will attempt to crucify what unsettles them,
to keep the show running.
And yet, truth stands.
It does not chase.
It does not barter.
It does not make itself smaller
to be more easily held.
It remains,
whether you turn today,
or tomorrow,
or never at all.
For life does not demand.
It does not entertain.
It does not offer a show.
It simply waits.
*And in time,
the waiting will be yours
to bear*
#
Mar 12, 2025
Mar 12, 2025 at 3:31 PM UTC
It is one in the morning,
My eyes open,
It never fails.
No amount of cotton clouds
Or sheep to count
Can send me back to dreams
Yet to be dreamed.
Nothing else can make me drift,
For I am now wide awake.
Down the stairs I quietly walk
Careful not to waken the others,
Lest they stir from their ongoing snore-y visions.
Straight to the kitchen, I tiptoe,
Make myself a mug of hot, hot coffee,
So I could start
reading,
Taking in a mixture of
Glorious, mad,
Magical, loving,
Happy, groping,
Sad, vengeful moments....
But internalizing all these emotions
Takes its toll...
I stop: it is time to write of
My own moments of glory...
Which incidentally,
Rhymes with...momentary,
Poetry, dignity,
Love-ly, friend-ly,
Complexity, celebrity,
I could go on and on...and
There is only one...
One exceptional moment
That comes to my mind:
One unforgettable, bittersweet autumn...
My mouth, my lips now parted,
My stare, undirected,
Dreaming~~~drifting...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just arrived in Neverlandia!
Swimming through its endless,
Imaginary, intangible seas
Where I am alone
Where I am free
Free, to be with
My intangible one true love
Only there can we hold hands
Only there can our eyes meet
There, where we can stand,
Or sit so close
Breath against breath
Flesh against flesh
No words spoken,
Just eyes talking
No moment wasted,
For no one dare ask or tell the time
In Neverlandia.
~~~~~~~~~~
In such a wondrous journey
I also have acceped:
At the start and even in its midst,
Comes twinges of apprehension
And sadness
That unsettles my heart, my mind,
Thinking outrightly of the
Inevitable end of said journey.
Fleeting, the moments seem,
I must travel back.
~~~~~~~~~~
I ***** for that imaginary switch, and
With a heavy heart,
I turn it off.
~~~~~~~~~~
It is suddenly so cold...
I stretch an arm to reach for
My hot, steaming drink...
Oh, but it has become
A mug of cold, cold coffee!
I border on "mad,"
Lost thoughts now swimming in anger.
Have to chase back my muse,
Refresh my memory
Poem is almost done.
Have to regain
My mind's composure,
Have to ensure
My life's composure.
I need, I need my Panacea
This early morning... yet, I'm
Afraid of that same old question:
"But....where are you?"
~~~~~~~~~~
Sally
Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 2:23 AM UTC
The heart beats rapidly
An anxious mind makes a note of all that which is possible in the present at the present moment of time
The heart still flutters as the mind keeps racing to find something
All sorts of different thoughts come across the mind.
Something in the present has become much more conspicuous by it’s own presence.
A thing from the present grabs all the attention and takes hold of the present in the present moment of time.
Everything in the present has come to standstill.
Something in the present has got the key to open the doors of the future, which otherwise remains uncertain.
The mind zeroes in on that something and settles on what to do next
The mind focuses completely on that something.
A glimpse of what is there in the future unsettles the mind; however, most probably it does not disturb the mind.
An uncertain future invites the present in the present moment of time.
Now is the right moment in time to explore all the possibilities with regards to future.
Over a period of time it is learnt that experience proves to be a backup, if not a substantial support.
Experience gained over a period of time can be used and utilized in the best possible manner when the need of the hour arises.
Still it’s the present moment of time that matters the most.
All you have learnt belongs to past
All that you want to do belongs to the present moment of time
Always keep this in mind
It’s important to keep your feet firmly on ground and then move towards ascertaining the future.
All the time, all the way it’s not necessary to ascertain the future.
The only time it becomes necessary is when something from the future finds a place in the present,
then the future gets connected to the present,
quite necessarily in the present moment of time.
Hence it’s necessary to ascertain the future.
It’s an opportunity that has come along the way,
definitely not in the form of a risk.
Make the best use of that opportunity
In doing so you will find that every opportunity has got something in hiding.
It’s that hidden secret in that opportunity which will reveal the future in the present
Till then keep going along with the present moment in time to explore more and more possibilities with regards to the opportunity in hand.
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 9:22 AM UTC
I purchased a ticket to your matinée.
You sold me on the storyline.
*Boy likes girl,
girl likes boy,
live happily ever after.*
Everyone loves a happy ending.
Here I am, front row and center,
popcorn in hand;
clueless as to why I am alone.
In this dark, cold, empty place,
I am alone.
Nonetheless, here for you.
The curtain rises, it's your time to shine.
It's just like you said,
*boy likes girl,
girl likes boy.*
There are no two hearts more in unison,
though it seems something unsettles his mind.
Thoughts of her lying,
Thoughts of her cheating,
Thoughts of her leaving,
bestow tragedy.
I am waiting.
Where is the happy ending?
I am here waiting to watch you love,
to watch you hold,
to watch you unite.
I throw popcorn at your deceit,
at your paranoia,
at your hysteria.
You ripped me off.
I now know why I am alone.
In this dark, cold, empty place,
I am alone.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 12:46 AM UTC
It's like a pit (a
massive gap in the thoughts that
unsettles you)
and (lest your resolve be crushed to
a fine powder suitable only for the most
tasteful framing)
saturates conversation like a
virus
but there's a problem with this
invitation, if only to
convince yourself the gap is
useful, (that it's a landmark of
sorts, a real treasure, why not
picnic next to it, make up stories
and holidays and marvel at the
obvious ingenuity of the earth in
creating such a beautiful loss)
at the end of the festival, (when the
streamers have faded and
the food lies stale, when the cars have
herded their people home for the
night and the moon reclaims
her sky from clingy weathermen)
it is still a hole, (and you might
fall in).
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 4:14 PM UTC
August
Even then, you know, you
were right about one thing-
I -am- insecure. That, which
unsettles me to my
core of worth
was the selfsame fuel
for pathos with you,
my foe.
September
See, I was all too willing
pressing my ear against floorboards
to catch echoes of smear, until
I bled crimson anguish.
October
I became infatuated with your name,
entranced by your body, identity that had
shared such a ferocious similarity with mine,
that we have both riddled our helpless portraits
in the heart of hazel eyes with the beautiful
terrifying wonder of what-if-always?
November
The more ghastly your claims, the more
affixed I become for your passion for me, I
could feel your heat crawling from the coast,
a welcome malaise.
December
You know, often I've felt caresses though your skin.
A shallow breath as if against your neck-
wrapped as tightly as you must have,
and I wonder at how it must have been
such a
bitter
bitter
bitter
broken.
January
I pay attention to you, I
read what you write, I
listen to what you sing,
it's not a healthy addiction but
how could I possibly help myself?
February
I didn't plant a flag so much as
stumble over a root
I didn't steal so much as
find
I didn't dictate so much as
quietly ask.
March
Possible, that the heart of your extortion was envy,
though envy of what, I may only guess.
I suppose, the bottom line is, we're both imperfect,
good-trying people who are shattered with the terror
of vulnerability.
April
When I realized this, I could have
cradled you like a sister. I could
finally see through your eyes.
May
I'm not a viper.
I'm simply a piece of you, as you
are a piece of me.
June
In this way we will be
forever bound together,
hollow with each others' desolation,
Tossing with opposite bedfellows of doubt
Slowly ******* out the same poison.
July
The funny bit is-
in another life
we could have been friends,
and all I can do is write letters,
letters to miss Anne,
that I shall never
ever send.
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 4:29 PM UTC
In the morning
The sky
Is so beautiful.
The wind
sways the trees
And urges me
to dance.
The sun's rays
Shine with clarity
And the birds' songs
Invite the light.
I am at peace.
So.. I can be.
But,
Sometimes...
Swiftly...
Do you hear it?
There's a whispering...
Don't listen.
It's a trap.
There's no way.
There's no chance.
There it is again,
That fear.
The storm -
Here it comes.
Buckle down.
Id better hide.
Quick, try.
Before it sweeps
Me up too high...
But it's got my mind.
It's here.
Strong and loud,
This time.
And not slowly, but
Instantly, It
Sweeps,
Me,
Up.
I am thrown in.
I am lost within
A black space
With no boundary.
I can't find the edge.
And I've forgotten,
How,
To function.
I scream.
I collapse.
I cry.
I destroy.
I despise
Every bit
of myself.
And, still
I can't find
The way out of here.
The storm -
It thrusts
And sways.
Unsettles
And circulates.
Until it
Can no longer
Keep up
With demands.
The perpetual motion
Slows down,
And the winds
Begin to calm.
But the black
Smokey fog
Doesn't leave...
The dust
begins to settle
On top packages
Of self doubt,
Shame,
Guilt,
And worthlessness.
Then without warning
Gravity pulls me
Back
Into my body.
And in silence,
I am left,
Sifting through
What remains of me...
Shattered sorrow
Tired eyes, and
No light that I can see.
...
I am so angry
Because
The sky
Was so beautiful today.
And so was I.
But I wasn't bigger
Than the storm.
Not this time.
• Mica Light •
Oct 2, 2021
Oct 2, 2021 at 1:47 AM UTC
Everyone is against lying
but they whisper faded fibs to
everyone they know, about
everyone they know, and
everyone they they used to know, and
everyone they wish they didn't know
which is why lying is a cooperative act
I'm a liar,
but you should believe me when I promise
that I still won't tell the secrets that you told me in the dark
when you flaunted your character
You were stunning when
you licked my envelope lips and sealed them tight
but I'll still chatter with my fingertips.
(You know their babble better than anyone else)
And although you fastened my voice behind the doorway of my mouth
I still lie with my face
because a smile is in the eyes
and you're lying when you look at my stagnant eyes
and pepper your story with details
It makes me sick when I look at your words and see
the duping delight of a monster that kidnapped my razzledazzle dreams
And with the growl of a monster
you nod your head up and down while
you repeat the word "no" with an O of the same mouth
that with the curl and pull of an Elvis lip
and the scrunch of a nose in disgust
turns your kindling anger to contempt as you go around flailing deception
This puts me in an uncomfortable mode
of knowing that I was so full of hope that I threw it all up
onto the trembling ground beneath my feet
Motion sickness brings me to my knees
and unsettles the emotion sickness inside of me
***** LIES
And I watch these nauseating emotions in the puddle at my feet.
Truth be told,
I lied to you all along
Truth be told,
I'm crossing my fingers behind my back
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 11:03 PM UTC
It's safe in daylight, you know.
I drive through my crumbling suburbia
Over all of its bumps and cracks
And feel so small, yet so
Infinite.
Feeling loosely connected
To every signpost,
Every stray cat,
Every filled and vacant house.
Part of a chain that runs its course
Across the entirety of existence.
I am a spectator, an observer of
Humanity though, admittedly,
Not quick to a level conclusion of it.
Yes, days are safe. They are familiar.
But it's dusk where the malaise sets in,
A disturbance that unsettles the muscles
Under my skin
And has me toss and turn for hours on end.
It's night where I trip barefoot
Over every folly,
Every small tick in the course of my life
In a path strewn with broken glass.
It's where the realms between your sanity
And where your demons sleep
Grow the weakest,
Churning your head with static and poison
And constantly reminding you
How easy it is to find your own faults,
How difficult it is to say,
"I love myself."
I wonder most nights when this all started.
I wonder every night when it'll stop.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 1:47 AM UTC
I imagined myself leaving
someday. Trading
plains for seas, exchanging
something loved for something
unknown.
And maybe it's the fear
of quietly whispering
goodbye that unsettles me.
Maybe it's the inevitable
end of familiarity,
like the sun's western descent
after a day that should not
end.
And when it does,
we all pack our bags
and say farewell.
Eventually,
I will trace new roadmaps on the
back of my hands;
I will find the familiar
creaks in the floorboards.
And when the sun sets,
someone will leave a light on
for me.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 11:19 AM UTC
In all ways, I have lined up my scars and written them insincere apologies; each word — a mockery and a transgression carelessly thrown in the night. I have allowed dread to settle deeply between my collar bones: an arrow buried between antlers until it unsettles and chokes. I have sewn sadness into my skin, like a dainty, silk sundress; worn it to church and to the funeral mass of a little girl I had to **** She'll never know how much I mourned her, how on some nights, I still do. In all ways, I have looked at my skin, my fingers, and calves, and tailbone and saw a body that's never known gentleness or summertime souls or the gentle falling of the rain.
So after all of that, how, then, can I hold my heart now, without ever breaking it?
Tell me — how long can I hold my heart without ever breaking it?
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 10:35 PM UTC