Shepard

I have lived a thousand lives
none of which were mine
I have shepherd many flocks
and been left by roadside
I have watched them come
and I have watched them go
speaking as they got the lessons
but never do they know.
I have lived a thousand lives
none of which were mine
guiding those who might have grown
if they had thought to thrive
but I know only of their choices
when they chose to go
I have lived a thousand lives
but never have I known
the kindness of mine own self
the emptiness I’ve sown.

 

The dissociated brain

Have you ever felt
inside out?
Backwards and forth
like someone else.
Ever looked at him
and thought that is me
felt the utter horror
of not existing
replace all your thoughts
with what his could be?
Just have to shake it off
no point in listening
it’s just your fucking mind
not reality
but this won’t move aside
no it’s meant to be
can’t hold this in sight
I’ve let go of me.
All these symptoms collide
and his face takes over me
he’s just handing me my change
but I’ve become a he
if I don’t break this hold
I might end up in ward b-reality
it chokes on my brains news feed.
I cannot keep up with these
thoughts you see
reality is not something meant to be
it’s quite tiresome you see
I can go a long way just to breathe
but the scenery becomes a bit of paint
and every interaction is unsafe
I may walk away fighting your face
thoughts of living your life in your place-
my reality in space, no memories or piece
of who I might be.
Have you ever lived your life this way?
I have to be aware to stop the pain
exhausted though I am
I will remain.

tagged

I am ceramic
fragile and tragic
frozen in place
where you led me.
Statue of stone
bathed in this gold
I have no soul
can you save me?
I am ceramic
precious, fragile,
and sold.

Froth

Can you tell me how
how to steal this sound
take the voice so loud
and drown it out, out, out-
break the waves that cull the demons
sing the pleasure as you mean it
never wander far from home
unless you know not where you go
footsteps buried under snow
blackened feet and bloodied soul
know not where you ought to roam
foam at the mouth
know no moan
can you tell me how it’s done
or sell me back what I have won?

Under sheets

All the clutter in my head
noiseless sound and day old bread
can’t get up no sight or ground
my feet touching skyward bound
I am falling up not down
my words seem to make it loud
mouth is shut-they still persists
these words all out of context.
All this clutter in my head
I’d need three of me to send
just enough to breathe again
get these thoughts out of my bed.

Puzzle pieces

And then it falls to pieces
like a puzzle in my head
the world a mirror around me
now shatters cutting red
I see only something-it’s name
I cannot place
for everything is broken, absurd
and out of date.
I can’t make the shadows
keep in their proper state
no reality can’t stay
everything again is clay
the mirror shatters then it breaks
snaps back into sight and space
puzzle pieces all in place
nothing shatters it’s just the same.

on the shelf

Just a doll on a shelf
no use for nothing else
catch the dust
and sit real still
don’t know how I really feel.
Just a toy for their amusement
cannot refute just how I’m used
yet I’m impatient for real life
wish I knew more then to survive
just a doll upon the shelf
taking up space and nothing else
breaks the same as time will tell
no real voice just frills and lace
she sits quietly while in place
meaning nothing
taking grace
she cannot walk, speak, only take.

Stitched

Silence becomes me
stitched lips
make my heart sing
numb if not nothing
for I cannot be something.
Silence becomes me
filled up with nonsense
confusion in my head
sore but still in bed.
Stitched lips and silence
I am the violence
we stop the madness
by taking your head.

Butterflies

We all want to be
beautiful and sad
tragic little butterflies
driven quite mad.

Flying cross the boulevard
floating like a dream
desperate imitations
of what we cannot be.

Everybody wants to be a superstar
show the world how special
that they really are
everybody wants to be
beautiful and sad
depression and anxiety
the best accessory ever had.

We all want to be
beautiful and sad
tragic little butterflies
driven quite mad.

Everybody wants to be
Lana Del or Halsey
all the pretty stories but know
nothing of true suffering.

Everybody wants to be someone else
we all pretend we’re butterflies
while killing ourselves.

Take it in

Breaking, shaking
I’m alone
when the world starts
to unfold
this is heartache evermore
broken, shattered
on the floor
we once witnessed this before
mind at once and then it’s gone
feel the world from getting on
broken mirrors
mind forgot
she keeps breathing
on and on.