in a cluster
of trees
beneath fingers
of sunlight
a forgotten
cemetery
lies decrepit
beside an old
back road
named after
an indian tribe

most people
are afraid
of being
forgotten
but i wish
to be buried
in the
forgotten
cemetery
surrounded by
crooked stakes
of rusted
wraught iron
engulfed by ivy

and i wish
to let the
earth
consume me
oncemore

Forever will I feel this
I can't be afraid forever
This chain that holds my mind shut
To the life I wished to live
My muscles tight like bands so taut
My head, it aches
My stomach wraught
Outside I smile
I laugh as well
The world is good
I laugh as well
Inside I cry
They'll never see
I hide from them a part of me
It's always there, it slowly lingers
I feel it from my toes to fingers
It's in my chest, it's in my hair
I breathe my anxiety in from the air
I breathe it in, I breathe it out
A- is for the air so cold
N- nagging, always nagging
X- extreme fear, always there
I- intense rushes of tears and woe
E- even my best friends don't know
T- teeth clenched in a forced smile
Y- yelling inside, for a long while
I can't **** this monster inside of me
He's always there, quickly shifting
But, I can make him shrink so small
I hardly notice him at all
Muscles loose, free to dance
Breathe in air, so fresh and crisp
Hate the world? No, not me
Love myself? Absolutely

When my head rests and settles
my thoughts free-flow
like steam from an overflowing copper kettle.

My chest sinks and swells

My cold, clammy hands clasp together
and nestle between my knees
to secure me from shivering beneath my sheets.

The dead December freeze batters my body
and so I dream.

Unable to abort the birth of an undying nightmare...

I begin to dream of shining on my own,
glistening all alone,
being covered in a quilt of Guilded gold.

I wish so much
to see a crease
or an escape to ease my troubled peace.
A way to cease this sitting
and **** this never ending quitting.

Kidding,
I'm not what I used to be. I'm something that I'm not.

I could knit a tight fit glove
for me and my humanity
to wed inside of.
I could pray that we never get pulled apart
even if sickness should be my suffering
and my witness.

Forgive me,
if I would rather stay sick
for the sake of my sanity.

I know what lies outside.

Ebonies of the sky
ebb at the glow
of the
twilight field of light
seeking sowing.

Forever showing
never knowing
how cold lonliness
is without a hand for holding.

If you had a hand to hold
would you?

Could you and your grasp
shake my shameless doubt
that our past has cast a stone
at the glass foundation of our future and
alas, our present cannot last?

Can your words
convince me that this is how it should be
and rid me of what I ought not to be
wraught with?

Or is this fraudulent truth an excuse
to let loose all of the fear we hold dear
as we hang dangling from a noose
as the world watches and people stare
as if they had nothing to lose.

I know I hope too hard
turning hope into current.
The positive charge barres
negative scars from burning,
but yet, my flesh is left
brittle and charred.

Maybe it makes no difference
or any sense at all.

It doesn't matter nonetheless, for I am desperate.

I am surrounded by voices-
my loved ones, my demons,
my own rational thoughts.
They swell and ebb like the tide,

A perfect chaos which drives me on,
drives me forward or drives me mad,
echoing in the chasms of my mind
like the voices in the dark night.

The things I know to be true,
to be real and honest and fair,
my anchors, my ports in the storm,
the stubborn rope which ties me
to a mortal coil I've so often tried to escape.

They are undermined by that call,
that desire, the siren song which
drags me back to the blackness,
which promises that numbess is better,
less painful, less terrifying than living.

All my life I've heard the call,
denied its lure or thrown myself,
desperate and thoughtless,
into its depths.

I ignored the destruction I wraught
in its name, the quiet lipped,
cold eyed terror of those around me,
the frantic trembling of my own soul.

The slow death of the drowned.

Sirens do not starve or bleed or die,
gasping for air and choking down screams,
cold water closes over their heads,
freezes their bones and invades their lungs.

I am no siren. I am warm blood
and flesh annd love and passion.
I will not dampen my fire for fear
of what it may release any longer.

I will not drift, forgotten, along the sea bed.

Broken wing.

For one\ to fly \with bro\ken wing-
The strug/gle and/ the stol/en fight--
The sound \ of fear \ in tone \ they sing-
The dead/ of dawn/ and sil/lent light--
Of all /the right/ and word/ they spill-

Of shat/tered speak/ and lone/ly thought--
The dead/ly breath/ and rust/ed wraught--
All dust/ to dust/ and blood/ to boil-
Break bread/ and tile/ defy/ the toil-
All work/ is use/less in/ the end--
The words/ are those/ to not / contend--

Broken busted battered brain/
Dusty deadly destructive drain/
Mashed mattered molding mane/
Replenished ruined royal reign/

Defying complicity in notion,
Rapture from the droning motion,
Blasphemy in daily dream,
Politics of moonlight gleam,
Corruption in the tortured tone,
Crawling fear with broken bone...

I streak through your life
perhaps unnoticed
if you were looking into
their eyes

I shouldn't be
noticed

Unless
Your hungry
big brain has spare
cycles

you rent to
being unnerved

read your way
I'm a bit part

vaguely printed
on a look back

what was that

a bill for phony fun
with phony ponies

colorful characters
arise with detailed
arguements

convincing you
to look away
from this fullness

Remember it
after planting
before being eaten
or left to wraught in some field


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

You sow that seed
                Hands so tired, they bleed
               Wraught iron, black coal
               Freedom last, like pure gold
               My young, my youth, all gone
               Wisdom teeth, break new,
                All because God knew
                It was time for me to grow
Up in this world, limited flow
Call shots, make my own
Giving birth, sowing a seed
Times two, to let them see
Me in one and the other in me
Casting jewels upon the great sea
Open doors, closed eyes, braiding her
Hair between my thighs
Hot days, long nights, fan me cool
Sweet jazz lullabies
Craftiness catch a bliss, new dreams
Hit or miss
Weight up, walking the town, giving inches of my emotional crown
Full, tired, ready to quit, old mother
Wisdom provides mother's wit
Advice and guidance, like the wolves
Leading the pack, her firmness in words destroyed distractions during attacks
Played out, not true, I am only 22
Lived hard, liquored down with
Bad choices, ****** the sweetness from my voice
Now it's firm, hard, no sway
Like my body, no room to play
Times have changed, my life too
Can't imagine it without my two
Still jewels in my eyes, but now I
See more than just their lives
I see my own, hard and tried
Too many tears, so many goodbyes
Fears of the worst, nightmare scares
It's all too much for my wirey gray hairs
Simple, and complete I sowed my seed

Meanwhile  back at the bungalow.......we return to the disturbing scene,
The unsung hero
Off center ,struck a pose ,
Face grimaced ,
Still ,
Stoic ,
Alone ............
Not counting
Toys in the attic......
That and the carnage of collateral damage.......
Covered in the remains
Of bags he brought full of
Everything from morality to mortality,intentions,malignant vengeance .....and open ended scenarios fallen crest ego and
Self induced ticks and twitches
Wraught by  a lifetime of  
"shoulda said ,wished I woulda and coulda been "
All these ,
And all his family and friends
Pretend to be shocked at
Cationic  discontinued
***** boy they once counted on....
Gone   too far into his psyche
Burning the midnight oil
On how far can we
Leave behind the point
Of no return
To learn if it could be
A correlation to the feeling free...
Or is it a paved path into a
Wasteland he's hunting for
Anything that be more
Fulfilling than being high
Up on the watch tower .wondering why ....
Are they running and asking why


Alone
In the gloaming

Motionless.

Stoic
see me
Ground zero in the beginning
The faze of the  full moon caught in the eclipse of a maddening
****** of crows

A hidden  maelstrom grows
The quest continues...

Metaphorically

As  fractal tracks flow
Following the personified  Donnita Darko down rabbit holes
Underground she gives in to easily .......
Conditioned to believe
That domestication
Equals castration.....
Slips out before the train leaves the station........
On
Nocturnal  
Internal I go
We find
What I thought this entire time ...
The simple complicated truth
Is ..... This.......
Idk!

I dont fit in well
Not in hi society
I get drunk
On the pain you give me.
I bottle it and let it rot
Oh you thought you
Knew me?
**** trigger please,
I love so hard its innocent
Like i honestly cant see whats happening
Because im happy,,
I can fly
I dont look for my love to play me like a sport
Then when i get shot down
I fall just as hard at terminal velocity
I break my wings im wraught and at aught with everything i dont understand why .....,.my eyse sting i cry ...,,,,,im on my knees in the dark about alot of things i get high , and im alright  im on to better things .
I get  higher and oooooh whats this a bear trap?
I love these things
Lets see what  happens if i pull out my heart drop it in
SNAP
Oh woe it  bit me
I knew this was gonna happen
But somehow i didnt know it would be  this bigga thing