Time in Mourning

The consistent beating of each second ticking

what would it mean to make even one worth keeping

the consistent rhythm of the God’s heart beating

what would it cost to hold something so fleeting

So many beats gone to waist and even now,

these words can never take their place

They’re a cheap replica, a hollowed out shell

time waisted just to etch them all down

My life, a record of eulogies

Time in echo and forever ticking

Re-Vice

A bitter burn, the promised venom

It tastes of poison, but treats the symptoms

I seek an escape, to run away

This miracle of life soaked in pain

It just gets to feeling like too much time

I’ve tried killing it, but it doesn’t die

I wish to cease, and just go numb

Even in dreams it goes on and on

These are days I just want rest

and so I drink to silence my mind

when I wake the following day,

I must confront a deeper shame

Virtue

I can’t seem to help but come back to this

to vomit out words stained in bile

An exodus of wretched turmoil given form with the shape of words

Once they’re written, I feel completed

To feel whole by letting go

They sound like tortuous poems, but they heal like answered prayers

Pill

I took a pill that blocked the Voice away

I felt fine, like a stone. Cold and walled away

Fear and pain, all the hurt was sent so far away

I wasn’t myself that day

I became a face in the crowd, all my colors washed away

I was alive, drained of life,

A pill that locked my soul away

Now I’m back and I threw those pills down the drain

Now I ask, when I was that empty shell:

Why didn’t I think to throw those pills away?

Bite Down

You are all the things you create into existence

The words, wishes, and cures you whisper

your hate, its the cusp

your pain, it dwells below

your anguish, is at its core

sink your teeth deep and savor the riches buried down below

Hidden in a dream

Fantasy and memory mix like milk and honey. Unconscious experience plays to the beat of an instinctive rhythm. Motions melt in time: cut slice and rewind. We are the seekers of unseen ambitions. Search for the lock while you dream of its key.

Seas of euphoric adventures. Insurmountable obstacles play a remembered beat of struggles overcome. Changing sceneries fold and caress with a fluid dance. Musical emotions sway the stagnant dance, exploring hidden depths, forgotten in waking. A soul revealed only in dreaming.

A Traveler Amongst Travelers

Rigged stern sliding door. Fake soliloquies of anguished lament. Why am I the guide for regrets I have not lived. That which I steer clear of are those that made its descent, and batter me with the burdens they can’t forget. Is this my prison for my misguided avoidance of life’s sorrows? Or perhaps my armor and sword, keeping them a person length away?

Their pain and worries are their alone. I have no right to their problems, and yet I mourn their loss as if they were my own.

I play the role of guide or sympathetic ally. I wish them all the best on their yet beaten path. I hold my tongue, and grit my teeth, so as not to speak my peace. For I fear that their demons may set their sights on me.