I realize that our struggles will affect us differently, but perhaps we keep in the back of our minds to not let the darkness color our hope. Of course, we can’t always control our biology by instinct alone. Do whatever it takes to find your peace.
I never settled on gray…
I settled on viridian.
I settled on a
romanticized intensity
seeped in tender
sophistication,
in hopes to cloak
the darkness and
cravings for desolation…
H.O.P.E. = Hold On. Pain Ends.
Silent deception
Confident chicanery
You smiling bastard
Hard hit to the heart
Foreign reality now
Weight of lies broke me
Forever altered
Gazillion hurt pieces
Difficult to breathe
Difficult to live
Struggling to survive in pain
Dark for a long time
Originally published 8/17/2018 on I Write Her.
What is the purpose of life if it hurts so many to live?
As time dwindles by N0tyetforgotten
Burning beneath times wick
A cesspool of options
Crippled by fear
Too long until the ends near
Fresh air but a mile away
Nothing and nobody is permanent, start the timer for their great escape
Anxiety cutting deep
Wounds unable to heal
How can something so beautiful be so grim?
Nothing Left to spare
A diamond in the rough, or a ruby coated disguised as bare?
Effortless wakes going beyond where the sun sets
Dawn breaks- alas the day sets again
Modern tides in a world so cruel
So little time, so much to do
Dreams are but figments of what could come true
Until next time,
Adieu
Thursday’s Child by Candice Louisa Daquin
Whatever you do
don’t feel sorry
things roll like flashing dice, casting fates
they do not require apology
she is the one on social media
who has no family
no one with the same last name
an orphan of surname
she pretends joining, thou her joins are frayed
there is a lock where her expectations meet
the silt and sloth of each long day
her heart spends most of its time
caring for others the way she wished
she were cared for
giving into a void, it can feel at times
like pouring water into sand and scooping it up
thirsty and forbidden to drink
her goal, to rectify through action
the irreducible inequity
we all suffer under
sometimes without blow
other times seemingly, beseiged
the wax and the wane
she used to believe love was the cure
for every malaise or grief of soul
but with time, even that slouched away
a disappointment within a broken egg shell
we choose scars we recognize
and sometimes they scald us
with their knowing …
one day when she dies
she will not be celebrated or recalled
never wanted commemoration but to
matter when she lived, no after life necessary
her ashes scattered by nobody in particular
to the wilds of the wind
where she will at last be free
to climb to climb to climb
Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see #147
i watched the sun
slowly fade away
and everything around me
began to take on a dark hue
i experienced a sinking feeling
my body caving in on itself
the depression dragging me down
i yelled into the void
but no one could hear me
i couldn’t save myself
lost in this mental quagmire
feeling it in my bones
thoughts run to escape the myths
created in my head
questions thick with sinew
yet the answers are willowy
should i pray
and light three candles
as the glum begins trickling in
my spirits growl
hearing the hum of birds
wishing for peace
in a world unbalanced
aching and tired
pulling from nothingness
stretched beyond breaking
icy snow falls
it’s cold and wet
sandy white beaches beckon
new hope emerges
imagining a better day
capturing a moment of bliss
Whether childhood trauma, devastating unexpected events, dysfunctional upbringing, or the daily grind wearing you down — rest, gather your inner strength, and begin anew. Continue on as who you were meant to be before life intervened.
Song of Flames by Kristin Kory
They tell you to follow the sun
as if night isn’t upon you
as if the shadows aren’t real
but night is still upon you
The thing in your mouth, copper hush
rage whispers
silence screams
until you sing your song of flames:
Let them come
Oh, let them rage
Let them find me in the shadows
Let them say my name
And quake
They tell you to let go
as if you’ve unpacked your pain
as if you’ve poured it into the earth
but hell still sits in a suitcase
The thing in your belly, it knows
the magic lies in the coming apart
in the middle of the wreck
in your every season
and every room
it waits
Hurt is hard to feel
but still the wound must speak
and speak it does
before you heal
They tell you to sit on the moon
keep fishing dark skies for stars
as if hope isn’t hanging by a thread of nostalgia
as if you didn’t notice the rage behind the flowers
before they were plucked from your garden
but his hands are still entangled in your hair
The thing in your center, it calls
little by little
in waves
it comes
Pull up a chair, sorrow says
out of body, slip
you will rebuild yourself
but first, rest
Inner Child by Christine Bolton
I live life now
as my inner child
She who lived in
secret for so long
Never allowed
to come out and play
Words tied to her
tongue left unsaid
Perceptions wrong
every time
Assumptions skewed
Questions unasked
Until finally freed
Now her poetry
tells the story
of who I am now
Unafraid and fearless
Forever young
Redux
in the clutches of this mental sinkhole
forced effort my only ally
my day is silent
with only slow tears and exhaustion
the bed, my refuge
the external world feels so far removed
from inside my womb of despair
dark, alone, and unwell
i need to stop sinking
or eventually, i will float
Pain buckles your inner state making recovery incredibly difficult. With every last bit of strength you have, choose to heal instead. Live again.
My thoughts
get stuck
in a thick tar swamp
knowing
that I am drowning
further below
but not quite
the end
Struggling is useless
Letting go is impossible
Tangled in poison syrup
In pitch dark night sky
all the stars
give up on me
They blink out
So
I settle in
being lost
dying alive
alone
Fracture, Fill by Tom Alexander
Break it like a bone
let it jut from torn skin
it’ll be raw and sore
then snap it back in
Fracture, fill
repair and grow
Through the ache
the growth seems subtle
Once it’s healed
that muscle gets supple
Fracture, fill
repair and grow
You can’t guess the extent
to which you’re capable
without some months spent
feeling utterly breakable
Fracture, fill
repair and grow…
Life is hard; we all know this. But I always hope that each of us retains a bit of hope and strength to get through the bad times. I’m sure that most of the readers who visit here, know that about me. This piece, which I’m so happy that Gabriela Milton, Editor of MasticadoresUSA, has accepted for publication, speaks about the heaviness of days gone wrong and the determination in spite of it. Enjoy!
already exhausted upon awakening
the day begins anew
while the brain is slow
the body is even slower
what weighs me down
isn’t easily lifted…
Please read the rest of the piece at MasticadoresUSA
I Write Her 