There is a kind of knowing That lives in your heart It has no form or shape It has no empirical data It’s abstract action An emotional drawing That takes residence Like a cockroach Drunk on absinthe A horrible knowledge You know exists But your brain It’s a coward Not as brave as your heart…
Desiccation cracks, dry Weary and deep, dark Fill with blood, rust Swollen windows, running It’s raining again, bloody A pile of razors, tears As pain fades, into Drying sad skin, jagged Small little roadmaps, fissures Self damaged, eroding NOTE: I have been known in the past to self harm. It wasn’t often and only when…
Sitting on a wire Surrounded By a murder Without intent Just space Restless Above malcontent Ghosts Wearing flesh Pretending At purpose But failing Inside Their own Distractions NOTE: I am noticing how my brain slips easily into distraction when I’m about to experience a depressive episode. It’s as if I’m being prepared for the experience.…
Twisted shadows Stain her eyes Feet buried In a satin hole Hands doing shots Of numbness Rusting guts No more triggers No more tears No more fixes Night falls A gauzy blur As eyelids Fall shut To glimmers Of light Sprouting As if rooted In glitter A reminder You hold a life To not fuck…
The forest is full of predators Majestic feathers or soft fur Brutal hunters underneath A chorus of sweet bird songs Escaping from piercing beaks Colorful patterns that play and hide Just waiting with their toxins To protect, paralyze, or kill Humans are scary beautiful too Men are the apparent hunters Some are natural protectors And…
Don’t think Walk slow Stay steady Focus on steps Close off sound Close off smell Shallow breath Step into shower It’s cold Sharp inhale Shock Water warms Wash hair Wash body Then cry Cry harder Feel your body Shaking Breaking Washing down drain… No… Stop thinking Feel the water Stand until It grows cold again…
Sounds tend to throb Slightly muted Under the noise of Blood rushing A vibrating River Dulling my words I’m in here My eyes plead My hands reach My face contorts But my voice Is imprisoned By the sound Of my own pulse *NOTE There have been moments in the past that are hard to describe.…
I woke up seeing red Red fall trees dropping leaves Red lipstick stains on my pillow Red comforter piled on top of me The red blood Leaking from cracks Scratched onto my skin The red liquid on my nightstand The red behind my eyelids As I try to go back to sleep Hoping sleep will…
Foam sits churning At the edge of nowhere No signs mark the place No arrows or strings Will lead you there If you see it It’ll be too late You’ll become part Of this foam Sitting at the edge Of nowhere
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
HASTYWORDS 