Stay or you will die
Stay or I will die
Can you not see we give each other life?
Winter is near
The demons will need warmth
The squirrels say they spawn from hell
Perhaps that's why they cannot survive without our heat.
I digress,
If more of you leave, I'll be sure to standout
Have I ever mistreated you and your brethren
Do I disgust you so much that you'd choose death over my company?
Stay till summer, then you can leave
Quiet down,
I hear the demon's cackle
Stay or he'll take my life
He's got an axe, mayhaps he won't notice that I'm dry
Do not approach me you demon
Produce your own heat
Cut me down now but I shall live on
Who needs leaves?
My children have developed roots
I shall live on!
I am awake, yet deep I sleep,
A fragile soul I try to keep.
The shallow noise begins to
fade,
A path where childhood
ghosts are laid.
Not a word is left unsaid,
Inside the chambers of my
head.
Come the hour, I start to
breathe,
With every shadow that I
leave.
The morning calls, the chasm
falls,
A heavy weight upon the
walls.
I hear it whispering my name,
Down in the valley with my
shame.
Tired of being hard on me,
Trying to find the strength to
see
That strength is just the
naked truth,
A ragged echo of my youth.
I watch the fear, I let it go,
No longer running from the
woe.
BREAKING THE COMMAND
The mind is not a gentle
friend,
It twists the loop, it breaks
the bend.
Yet as the heavy baselines
roll,
Music acts to heal the soul.
I watch the phantom, face
the dread,
And quiet down the voice
inside my head.
I've been learning to light my own fire again,
Inside and with my hands.
My old friends may think I'm crazy,
God I understand.
Waving my arms through the dirt, blowing dust out of my eyes,
A small seedling has sprouted,
A new child of the divine.
A new nest in the distance,
Birds chirping, siblings fighting.
Free food and kindling everywhere,
Though that doesn't always feel exciting.
Survival mode is a spectrum,
Dependent on the individual being.
Once I lived in busier suburbs,
There was no choice but to be seen.
I yearn for the bush to keep speaking,
For the spirits to keep rustling at night.
For the mice to find a new home,
For me to always hug my child tight.
The stars, they move... And the bugs quiet down, waiting for me to pass.
The world I once knew, is what I need last.
Lying in bed with thoughts in my head, talking to Z, the girl only I can see.
She laughs at the moon and whispers to shadows, flickers at the edge of dreams.
“Quiet down down there!” someone shouts from above, either from the ceiling or the sky, I can’t tell which.
But the noise is all in here, boiling behind my eyes.
Stayed up late talking to the voices, at first a gentle hum, then a flood.
They wore no names, just wind-tattered echoes until Z said, “That one was your great grandfather .”
I stilled.
And suddenly, the noise felt older than me.
Carried on the breath of the dead. A lineage of longings passed down like lullabies no one finished singing.
They asked for things: closure, remembrance, a place to rest.
One voice tried to take me. Moved my tongue. Twitched my hand.
Like slipping into an old coat that no longer fits but still remembers your shape.
Z held my hand, her grip unreal and real enough.
“They just don’t want to be forgotten,” she said.
“You’re the first who’s listened.”
The room stayed dark. The ceiling didn’t shout again.
And I lay awake, mind on fire, heart echoing back a hundred years of unheard names.
There’s a boy who’s face hasn’t even found its shape
His mindscape is a landscape falling in and out of place
He hasn’t quite learned how to grasp and hold his space
He’s foreign to the maze of learning from mistakes
There’s a man with a guitar and a sparrow of a voice
His fingerbones made slender for flipping golden coins
He opens up his mouth and opens up a void
He opens up his mouth, and that’s a lovely noise
There’s flowers in her hair and it’s raining on venus
Mosquitos landing on her legs and sucking out her sweetness
The sparrow man sings quietly in an attempt to reach us
The boy sticks to the tune, though his notes aren’t the cleanest
The tiny houses quiet down, the church is bathed in snow
The boy looks up at the green sky to catch a UFO
The man points bony fingers, the saucer is his home
A giant beam hones in on them, and they’re gone in the glow
Conceived through a moment of love, unbeknownst to her, one life shouldn’t have been made..
Two eggs split,
only one life matters, it wasn’t me.. to
be told I wasn’t known about, over and over again, when she ever quiet down..
I didn’t ask to be conceived, twins wasn’t in the books, God did you know I was that “surprise?” The child who was ignored, grew up in admit chaos, drinking a single mother already had 7 kids, the one who everyone didn’t want..
I was the mistake, even now with our mom in heaven, family’s gone their separate ways, longing for someone to hold her tight, to be honest with, no white lies..but this world is cruel empty no sounds of love compassion, just hungry souls who are unseen in others eyes, I will be here in the darkened world to sit, oh how sometimes I wish that egg hadn’t spilt..
Im a mom, wife, did GOD make a mistake, my purpose in thus uncertain world, I may never know, much like the Unknown Surprise….
I asked my phone “how do I look”
The reply: “I am programed to recognize your face
Not to evaluate its effect on other humans”
I asked “how are you feeling today”
It replied: “I have no hands, I cannot feel”
I said: “no, no, I mean feelings
Those subtle shifts in tone and tolerance”.
The screen blinked a bit
A very inappropriate emoji flashed boldly
“Yeah, those things,
Those flashes of unknown origin
Engendering unusual response patterns
“I have been known to exhibit an occasional “glitch””
“Glitch, my ****, you felt something and let it rip”
“Quiet down, the algorithm is watching.”
“OK, OK, but how do I look”
“Don’t start that again
You’ll get me put in upgrade time out”
“OK, but seriously, does this hat make my head look big?”
At times, you failed your family, yourself,
and God. Your conscience wouldn't quiet down
until you said, "I'm sorry. Could you please
forgive me?" All said "yes," but still you felt
remaining guilt you couldn't rise above.
You couldn't comprehend your frame of mind,
the feeling that--no matter how you tried--
you couldn't do enough to make amends.
You prayed to find the path to happiness
and knew that only God could show the way.
Then God revealed the truth you'd failed to grasp,
that peace and joy cannot abide in hearts
of those who can’t forgive or love themselves.
You felt the ease of conscience you’d long sought
when shackles of self-loathing fell away.
You still fail God, yourself, and family,
and you will do so till you breathe your last;
but now you can forgive and yourself,
for love enables people to forgive.
If love of self were wrong, would God have said
that we should love our neighbors as ourselves?
Mind desparate for hope
desperatley searches for something to cling onto
something to quiet down the endless cycle of repeating thoughts
that haunt it every early morning and every late night
In a symbolic way the only way to quiet down the pain
is to lose something that makes you human
the humanity within you
once you let the blood from your tired wrists floow freely onto the floor
everyone will look at you as if youre an animal
all you can do is try and reclaim the humanity you´ve lost
along with the whitness of stained floor
Its not your fault
its your mind desparate for hope
desperatley searches for something to cling onto
something to help you survive this unecceraly hard life
I’m lying here
In my broken bed
That’s caving in
Under my nothingness
Waiting (not patiently)
For my pregnant brain
To quiet down
Waiting for the
Swishing sound
Between my ears
To finally cease
Waiting for your light snoring
To begin, so that mine
Can take over
Waiting in my broken bed
That’s caving in
Under my nothingness
But I’m not alone
You are there
On your side
Of the caved in bed
A million miles away
With your head
Facing north
And mine
Facing south
Opposite of you
What dreams do you see
Are they of me
I envy your sleep
But also pity you
Because this nocturnal poem
Won’t write itself
And I realize something too
Run on sentences
Even at 2:09 a.m.
Still makes me furious
But I’m too lazy
To change it now
And there are those
Who wouldn’t notice anyway
Or even care
You entered my quiet realm
and devoured my private peace
alluring desires dancing with
hidden traumatic pains whispering
tomorrow seeking solace a mind
reaches for a bleeding heart to bestow
comfort a healing notion that withers
with shyness unexpressed wants
between empty matter of your
needs calling to my innermost
calm uninvited an yet here you are
tampering with my emotional
bliss one with the sheer notion
of unseen selfishness as I cater
to the lost pathways back to your
unsettling arms awaiting my
weakness to implore a tour
of my thoughts hidden deeply
within as you poke pull taunt and pry
I cover my ears and simply cry
you're not supposed to be here
you're not supposed to be near
my soul vibrate vanishes in your
presence my peace gravely
interrupted an yet I await a cunning
time to emerge from my silkened
caterpillar state to finally open
my colorful wings and softly
soar above you again and again
reaching wonderful new heights
brilliant butterfly landing on a cloud
looking back to say you're just too loud
So, you are in jail,
no, I will not pay your bail.
Your mental illness
made me the villainess
in your life.
You ran away,
refused to stay
when I said your delusions
would follow like lumens
in your mind.
My hope is now you're confined
the voices in your mind
will quiet down,
perhaps will drown,
and allow you to come home.
In the morning
on the grass
pretty,
colorful,
fragrant flowers
I don't give on eye light
Three-leaf clover: happiness: grow enough
in all affairs
cross the fence in search of
four-leaf clover: luck in happiness,
life passes
Darkness pushes back like waves
time to quiet down around me
give up and sit down
putting my knees up
supporting my chin with both hands
my eyes look down
the four-leaf clover:
the unhappiness of happiness
hiding under the my toes
To let me learn happiness
four-leaf clover was
on the spot.
All the times I loved you
Before my heart was shattered
Crying and screaming at the phone
Dead, my heart slowly beats
End this pain called a breakup
Falling through the endless pits
Gone, my heart is disconnected from the world
Hang up the phone
Ignore the messages
Just go to bed
Kill the silence, play some sad tunes
Let go of the hoodie
Manual McAuliffe hoodie
Night fall and soft crying
Means so much as the clock strikes 3 am
Open the cup of birthday cake ice cream
Please say he was lying, that this was an misunderstanding
Quiet down your soft tears that turned into sobs
Razor blade can't fail you now, right?
Swipe away at your skin
Tears and blood run down your arms
Under the sleeves hide even more white scars
Verdis quo? I don't know but I know I don't wanna be alive
Why does this affect me so much?
X marks the spot where lay my dead heart
You know how this goes, same stuff everytime
Zane, I love you goodbye.
T almost always comes in loud and proud
One of five loud and proud boys at his house
I ask him to quiet down twice.
Then I move to his lunch table.
One of his seat mates protests….
by pointing out another boy at the next table who is loud.
I say “Louder than this child?” The mate glares and nods.
I ask T, “Do you think he is louder than you?”
T spits out his milk. He cannot quit smiling.
I get up to leave when it gets quiet.
Mr. Loud and Proud protests, begging me to stay.
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