Skeleton.

Why dont you just finally,
Twist the knife you’ve stuck in me,
Watch the life drain out of me,
And wash your hands until they bleed?


All the pain you’ve given me,
Can finally drain away with ease,
But I can’t sustain this injury,
While you maintain the olive tree.


Cant you find the subtlety,
Of disinclined humanity,
To tow the line reluctantly,
As far as it can get from me?


A thing living opportunistically,
Too weakened by your own recovery,
A wisdom lost on all who see,
The lies of a wise sobriety.


If there’s a real bone in your skeleton,
Any semblance of what is a gentlman,
Any scrap of yourself that is genuine,
This appeal has been sent to him.

Most Hated of Them All.

I hate her.
I hate the way her face displays,
all the things she hides from me;
I hate every breath that she takes.
I curse her smiles;
I make it rain all over her parades,
I saturate her blankets,
and every clothesline that she hangs.
I feel sick;
every time her victory banner is waved,
those with hearts as dark as hers,
do not deserve such good days.
I cast catching nets;
to halt the successes she’s made,
all the good she’s accomplished;
from within a questionable Human state.
I hunt her;
track marks in the mud from her chains,
her pace has picked up now,
but her attempts to escape are in vain.
I watch her;
watch each line appear in her face,
along the tip-toes of the crow’s feet,
so I step away from the mirror again.

Our Best.

Make the most of your regrets; never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh.”

Henry David Thoreau

I once heard a person announce in sheer stupidity,

how “if we put forth our best there’s no regretting anything”,

I recall how I longed to kick out all of his front teeth,

and wipe that fucking smile away from my periphery;

Guess what? Out beyond the picket fences of oblivion,

there’s a broken home to the overthrown and forsaken,

those of us who gave our best and can never rest again,

full of regret over what their’ “best” took away from them;

it’s clear how blindly deceived those who like to believe,

in the law of attraction and satisfaction of positive energies,

and don’t consider how I have tested these very hypotheses,

but these theories can’t hold up to Life’s painful realities;

the next time somebody dares to tell me to “think positive”,

I will show them just how much of my best I got left to give,

I’m so full of resentment over all things impossible to forgive,

under the enchantments of my own “best” spell of negative.

Pleased for a King.

Stand tall and silent in the face of me;
against the trickery of the Milky Way…
in compliance with the God of Defiance;
forget ever seeing me broken this way…

This prayer is born of necessity;
these pitiful tears turn out to be mine…
I again, come back to feel your whip crack;
I’ve been lost: following the eyes of blind…

Please grant to me: your moments asleep;
I’d be pleased if a King was to still dream of me…
don’t cast me too far beyond your sovereign reach;
please circle back for me, before you finally leave…

Without your presence of balance, I’ve lost my way;
I need your conversation and I want feel your kiss…
time to act, no holding back another single day;
what’s most important here is that we can still do this…

Palms up to push at the bottom of your heart;
but you cursed and swatted me away…
I bet you will look for me here eventually;
after I died waiting to see that “someday”.

Misery’s Metronome.

I find that often

during times

when I reflect

back down the line

A saddening

has indeed been

a constant thing

to cruelly

pre-define

a trend

in the bending

of a tragedy

misery’s timeline

when I look

more closely

at the heavy

weighing down

dragging the line

of my ever-darkening

own, grown legacy

the only thing

then, that truly seems

left for me

to dare perceive

as belonging to me

to conceive or believe

as I also lose

and also find

my mind, in time

I find that

I’m at borderline

just temporarily

it’s all so clear

fleeting moments

fully aware

heavy torment

I can hardly bear

the darkness here

or the sunshine there

I always sink

atonement

beyond every brink

fathomless

bottomless pits

dark omens

where blackness persists

among settling bones

misery’s metronome

tick – tick – tick

within the inner hollow

Life’s slowing drip

no more grip

on tomorrow

the present moment

is all of my sorrow

silt settling on bones

dirt shoveled over

our buried loved ones

a human component

the final atonement

the weight

from the shoulders

too late

and it’s over.

 

 

Too Many.

In a motion more like teetering,
than it could be described as anything;
I sway back and forth,
to these blues my Life sings,
I’ve been burnt by the torch,
I’ve been charged with carrying…
Up and around and right through me,
comes the whipping sound of irony;
I pray to the Gods,
give promise to each and every,
I’ve seen too much blood,
I’ve seen one year too many…

Wretched Life.

wretched life

Angel of Shame.

Sunny outside and seventy degrees…
Mother Earth’s butterfly kisses fluttering…
I am barricaded deep within bloody memories…
can’t I just be normal and somehow just feel happy? …
Another season’s campouts come and go again…
another click added between Life and the Wasteland…
the older I get, the less I relate to my once closest friends…
it’s just me and CPTSD – not much else worth any mention…
no matter the efforts always made in true vain…
I’ve carved years out of Life with just trying to stay sane…
after so many times of being burdened by false blame…
and being kicked in the face by the Angel of Shame…
it comes to a place where I’ve got nothing to give…
where each day is painful through grace that I live…
and each moment is nearly impossible to perceive…
where the only thing left is hope in which to believe.

Pleased for a King.

Stand tall and silent in the stardust;
against the trickery of the Milky Way…
in compliance with the God of Gods;
in regret of the very words I must say…

This prayer is born of necessity;
these pitiful tears turn out to be mine…
I have veered from the path in my travels;
I am guilty of following the eyes of blind…

Please grant me your moments asleep;
pleased for a King to still dream of me…
don’t cast me far from your sovereign reach;
please circle back round before you leave…

Without your wisdom, I lost my balance;
I need your presence and I want your kiss…
it’s not important to me how this gets done;
what’s important is that we can still do this…

Palms both up to rush the face of the clock;
in stone if they need to become that way…
I know that you will someday look for me here;
and I intend to be here for that “someday”.

Most Hated of Them All.

I hate her.
I hate the way her face displays,
all the things she hides from me;
I hate every breath that she takes.
I curse her smiles;
I make it rain all over her parades,
I saturate her blankets,
and every clothesline that she hangs.
I feel sick;
every time her victory banner is waved,
those with hearts as dark as hers,
do not deserve such good days.
I cast catching nets;
to halt the successes she’s made,
all the good she’s accomplished;
from within a questionable Human state.
I hunt her;
track marks in the mud from her chains,
her pace has picked up now,
but her attempts to escape are in vain.
I watch her;
watch each line appear in her face,
along the tip-toes of the crow’s feet,
so I step away from the mirror again.

The Outside.

It’s time again –

to let Life win;

it’s time to

unimagine,

all of the notions

we’ve gradually let in –

to sprinkle our faces;

from faraway places,

locations that,

we’ve never been;

and never will–

despite such longing

that slowly kills,

every moment’s

gasps and thrills;

It’s time again –

throw the towel in;

time to newly

re-determine,

all of the ideas

importance lays in –

to weigh heavy, anchoring;

our ankles to the floors,

chopping doorknobs

off all the doors;

until no one or nothing –

can even see

you or me anymore.

Soon.

bluejaws

Lately, I have contracted my way into a freelance bid that was accepted by a snooty committee; and now I have a job once again – for now, at least.

* Something so-called “productive”, to keep my troubled brain occupied and my body out of jail, or worse.

 Lately, everything I feel and experience is filtered out by a dulling effect that is new to me – my senses seem to have literally left me completely – and I function on a totally strange and detached level than any I’ve lived through in the past.

* I am anything but “present” these days, let me tell you.

 Lately, I was reminded of how very dangerous it is to open myself up to another person with the hopes of reciprocal GOOD at heart; I have been shown this lesson several times before and will likely see it again before I actually LEARN its value in the context of myself; but it’s a lesson that hurts like Hell each time, either way.

* One of these days, I will pack up my shit and move out to the sticks flying solo – then maybe I’ll finally get it.

 Lately, I have noticed that my friends are avoiding me again:

  1. the intense, fixed stare at the television whenever I walk into the room,
  2. the ear-buds permanently in each ear 24-7
  3. the unfailing, but “sudden” need to go to the bathroom whenever I show up to smoke a cigarette in the smoking pit

I can see the writing on the wall, and I don’t blame any of them I guess…I wouldn’t want to be in my company either.

* Just because I’m officially an emotionally resigned, spiritually bitter aging bitch doesn’t mean that all of my friends are riding that same wave; some of them actually have reason to celebrate things.


The last year has been the foggiest out of my entire life somehow, despite the many years I have under my belt from my youth spent under the influence of narcotics or the morphine drip I survived on later on during my “hospital era”; I can honestly say that I have been simply “going through the motions” of everyday with only the goal of the following night in mind.

* When I’m sleeping, I don’t have to cope with reality so much.

 

And that is just how I gotta survive right now; whether I like it or don’t.

 

 

Undone

When you’re at IKEA, and a piece of artwork you see makes you think of none other than the High & Supreme Jenny – when EVERYTHING with you seems to use her as its reference point in perspective…

When you still aren’t driving around the truck that you told her you NEEDED TO MOVE the other day – even after your so-called epiphany in regard to her ugly character the other day…

When you’re still perfectly happy and okay with taking a birthday gift from her (which translates into “kissing and making up” in my opinion, you sold out either way), while making a statement along the lines of:

“Whatever…it didn’t change anything, doesn’t matter; but the Bitch held it out from me…”

When you allow multiple misinformed friends to talk down about me, and to continue in the warped perceptions that they’ve come to harbor of me as a result of the dishonesty of your other twisted and unstable friend – and you do not stand up for me and set them straight, despite knowing beyond the shadow of any doubt – the inaccuracy that defines each one’s opinion of me…

When you are still stupid and blind enough to be falling back in right where two specific seedy, shallow and self-absorbed individuals want you, without any genuine regard for yourself or for those who actually give a fuck about you…

When you are obviously still willing to be taken advantage of by unworthy and detrimental people, while you are satisfied and somehow not disgusted with yourself for putting such an eye-sore up on a pedestal like you have, and continue to do…

While you haven’t learned the important Life Lessons yet that will determine your lasting legacy in the Universe – while you are so easy and free with the denial of what’s bad for you, while you brush aside the REAL and TRUE…

While you are still any of these painful things, please forget that we ever met.

Messy Soot

 

Thinking back on all the times we’ve had…

to the present moment, everything’s so fuckin bad;

My very existence has turned upside-down…

The road that I was on got sucked underground.

 

I know that so much of your anger and misery…

are associated directly with thoughts of me;

and there’s nothing I can do to take that away…

but you will see things for yourself, someday.

 

It used to seem possible, that you’d come back “home”…

but I woke up one day and I’m all alone;

and during the years that have slipped right on by…

The enemy has become your own perceived ally.

 

Professional schemes to mask the bottom line…

that they could’ve cared less about you – all this time;

I still fight for and against your honor, from years ago…

While you drift away from the only family you know.

 

I have tried tirelessly to win justice for you…

while The Department takes credit for what’s not real or true;

after years separated, days each spent half alive…

so much life still shines through those beautiful eyes.

 

A handful of years thrown away – that we won’t get back…

no amount of money in the world could make up for that;

I want you know that I carry a pain that is quite real…

it’s the only thing left that I’m able to feel.

 

It fills in the void of my resigned, bitter mind…

with memories and thoughts of a much brighter time;

So for a moment, you’re “home” with me again…

the windows are open, and the sunshine pours in.

 

What was inside my heart that left with you…

it takes away the sense of falling completely through;

It reminds me of those long-forgotten, better days…

when I could reach out my hand and touch your sweet face.

 

As temporary as it is- gone from this place and time…

without those moments, I’d surely lose my mind;

When I open my eyes, the fog has returned…

and I’m buried beneath all of the bridges you’ve burned.

 

The curtains drawn closed, the rain pours drown…

and the gurgling of my spirit becomes the only sound;

I wonder if you know that I never wanted it this way…

Where I’m eternally hoping to see you alive again someday;

 

A circumstance captivated and cultivated through sheer stupidity…

A situation of manipulation in which everyone wins but you or me;

I can’t tell you to forgive the forsaken things you perceive…

I can only tell you how wrong I am been to still believe.