whispers

I guess it’s nothing
nothing but the bottom
the bottom of the hole we dug
given up-have we begun?
I don’t have the answer yet
but I will smile
and I will forget
then it comes-another day
everything’s fine-I am okay.

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Runner

It’s not that I don’t matter
it’s rather ever after
the simple things we do
not enough of you
everything is twisted
still they manage to miss it
cancer in remission
still you abuse the system
crush those drugs for honey
the world never saw you coming
you just kept on running
look at where you are now.

Personality disorders

Believe me
when I say
some thing’s
can be easily explained
sometimes it’s not complicated
it’s just something you won’t admit
it’s not anything abnormal
it’s a personality defect
rather a disorder
like narcissism or borderline
it’s really rather common
though often is denied
unlike mood afflictions
these will last unless
the person is in treatment
and active in development
of serious self awareness
just like organic illness
those living life like this
all have to face the fact
that they weren’t born
to think
normally
it’s part of what disordered means.

The reason is not nothing

Let me say it
let me speak the words
today’s not a good day
I know it’s absurd
that I’m a mess
the moment I wake up
but let me say the reason
the reason for this fuss
let me say it’s nothing-
nothing material
I’m just having a bad day
a bad day because-
you don’t want to hear it
but it’s more then a feel
some days are just bad days
especially
when you’re mentally ill

If ever a friend would have me

And Death would be a sweet escape,

embracing life’s most evil fate,

its brittle bones, its empty heart,

a vacation from a most feeble art.

Oh how I’ve waited for this chance

to dance with the devil as we

seek ash

to look into eyes so seedy and vile,

to touch that which destroys with guile.

How I’ve longed for this embrace

from world a fire from souls encased.

Death would take me, I require

an escape so sweet slumber

so mild.

A life in abyss, a pit to sleep.

And Death would be so kind to me,

an old friend, a lover, a song birds tweet.

Oh Death would end this futile endeavor

my struggle, my tragic, my will forever.

(February me 2012)

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.

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.