Reconciling never ends As the narrow bones Widen into countries And the steps descend Into chaotic drumbeats We churn the gold out Spread it on idols Tarnished repetition Tok tok tok tok tik Developing desperation The bell tolled And landscapes rolled And nobody Was the wiser
Deadfall seasons Come like the night Sneaky and silent Waiting quietly with its Blood red oranges And copper smells A soft wet decay With no words to say Rain without cover Cold without a coat Dark without light This is the last place I’ll see until spring Peeks into my soul again
There are lots of things I hate About trauma Real honest to goodness trauma Like… How it automatically steals Future joy How it cripples effective communication How it makes trenches With one way signs in brains How it dictates patterns Of protection Of avoidance Of self-sabotage Of self- destruction Of hyper-vigilance How it demands boundaries…
A cavalcade of horrors Abominable explorers March around the face Barely keeping pace Ticks marking seconds As the past steadily beckons Hands running retrograde The harvester already paid Searching all the memories For every infernal enemy Be careful what you chose To reverse, repeat, rewind You have only everything to lose
I believed for awhile The monster cried That it was as alone And broken inside But tears never fell Life never called And death just Stood alone No monster Just me
My boss has walked in on me more than a few times to catch me ugly cry. He walks in and I smile… as of smiling will distract him from seeing the tears. It’s an automatic reflex. To hide my pain. I don’t cry as often these days. I try hard to take care of…
Maybe the words won’t flow There is no waterfall No marching syllables Maybe the sigh doesn’t come There is no gentle breeze No soft release of air Maybe the eyes can’t see There is no rising sun No focused images Maybe there is no beat There is no thunder No vital signs
Growing absence. “It’s so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.” ~John Steinbeck Whether you have lost someone to death, divorce, or just an irreconcilable argument this sentiment holds true if there was ever an ounce of love or light in the relationship. To be…
The day absorbed me Painted me black Spit me out as smoke And watched As I tainted everything I touched Just soot and ash Worthless
I realized recently much of my anxiety was attached to a feeling that I needed to be perfect. Act perfectly in all things. I know logically there is no such thing. I mean I KNOW that. But I don’t think my heart ever got that message. I must execute plans perfectly. I must do exactly…
HASTYWORDS 