I was alone and depressed Picking up pieces of glass A broken candle, shattered On my fancy bathroom floor I was in my fancy house Living my fancy life Trying to be a fancy wife Wearing fancy clothes And I’ve never been fancy Not fancy enough anyway I’m the clumsy kind That drops candles on…
I let my soul Slip out And it floated Like balloons Toward the sky And I cried Because It didn’t even Linger Didn’t care To say goodbye And that Is the story Of my life
The vine grows Never straight Focus shifts Destiny calls Flowers bloom And then wilt Twisting And growing As vines do Caring not Where the sun Where the air Where the water Where the nutrients Come from They just grow Until that something For which they don’t care Disappears And then that vine Has to care…
The vine grows Never straight Focus shifts Destiny calls Flowers bloom And then wilt Twisting And growing As vines do Caring not Where the sun Where the air Where the water Where the nutrients Come from They just grow Until that something For which they don’t care Disappears And then that vine Has to care…
I was a blank spirit Depleted and forsaken Walking over tiny twigs Snap snap snap crack Cotton hung from the sky Like little gauzy curtains Billowing in front of me And the breeze was a ghost Stripping flowers from trees These things I noticed Somehow I knew These things would save me But still I…
The song had words Only I could hear They passed by Crumbling corridors And floated Over cracked linoleum Drifted through Burnt up rafters And settled In the distant trees Beautifully loving words Spoken with my voice Just perched Far beyond reach And I am lonely Knowing my self love Lives in an orchard
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…
What I’d like to tell you Will never pass my lips My words mean too much To end up changed, twisted Because that’s what you do Turn hankies into birds And people clap and cheer Then they point and jeer When you tell them I’m the one, the horrible one Turning birds into hankies When…
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.…
HASTYWORDS 