You were once my buddy; you were once the only thing that I grew comfort in knowing. I didn't really know myself and I didn't take the time to really know anybody else for my fear of abandonment. So you were the blanket I wrapped myself in at night, the calm I returned to after a long day, and the only one that truly knew me.
Now that it has been millions of minutes, hundreds of days, and a couple of years, I've gotten a glimpse of leaving that dirty old rag of a friend. I caught long glimmers upon nature's most beautiful gifts and I felt the freshness of air envelope my cheeks, leaving me nothing less than grace.
So now when the highs dip beneath the soil and my days appear to have lost their luster, I now have to make a conscious effort to keep my body moving for fear that the motionless will bring me back to the darkness. It is now a way of Life.
I don't find disappointment or really anger in the issue of merely just being able to Live, but I find myself silently accepting and calmly willing. Because who would I be angry with and how would I really be able to change it? Sure Life throws us all through whips and jerks, but we've all been given that resilience, we just have to unwrap it--and I sure as hell have located mine. But lastly, it all solidified when I forgave the One I blamed for everything. I realized that nobody is really ever alone, and nobody is ever really 'given' a hard hand. We are given Life and we simply cannot control all the nasty forces that fester within the entire human race.
So all I can do now is accept that you will resurface; you will try to take away my evenings and my good mornings. You will try to make the muscles in my face numb, ensuring an upwards of a smile is non existent. You will try to deepen the color that surrounds my eyes. You will try to present evil medications to knock me down lubricated and blind. You will try your damnest to lure me into the dark hole I escaped. But I will do what I have to. I will schedule my days, my nights, and my happy moments. I will read to myself affirmations that are true. I will bring out who I truly am in each and every day. I know how to battle it, its just a matter of recognizing the slithering toxins that are so persisent.
I'm not mad, I'm ready.
The Poetic Truth
Monday, January 9, 2017
Monday, November 2, 2015
Monday, October 5, 2015
Building Blocks
I’m starting to learn it wasn’t God’s fault you died,
it wasn’t the relationship that you threw away as trash,
it wasn’t the phone call that turned deadly with poison,
it had everything to do with one who could no longer reason.
No more a life that would restore,
no more a heart that bled compassion,
as it couldn’t bare the weight non existent,
for the stones pelted wounded the resilient.
The blood oozed and caved a soul,
trickling on the inside creating mystique,
as all eyes gazed upon a transcendent heart
that would conquer the battle it wanted to start.
But that’s how tragedies unfold,
they punch you in the gut with unexpected twists,
and churn the toxic elements within,
creating the answer as the most illogical sin.
Leaving all who held hope
to a long path grinding at their insides,
that could only amount to resurrecting faith,
building back the ground that ruptured grace.
it wasn’t the relationship that you threw away as trash,
it wasn’t the phone call that turned deadly with poison,
it had everything to do with one who could no longer reason.
No more a life that would restore,
no more a heart that bled compassion,
as it couldn’t bare the weight non existent,
for the stones pelted wounded the resilient.
The blood oozed and caved a soul,
trickling on the inside creating mystique,
as all eyes gazed upon a transcendent heart
that would conquer the battle it wanted to start.
But that’s how tragedies unfold,
they punch you in the gut with unexpected twists,
and churn the toxic elements within,
creating the answer as the most illogical sin.
Leaving all who held hope
to a long path grinding at their insides,
that could only amount to resurrecting faith,
building back the ground that ruptured grace.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
The Remnants are Gone
I could pound the metal to oblivion,
feel the muddy shards land upon my cheeks,
a foreign material from those salty raindrops,
but it still doesn’t stop every leak.
With your face I find it pours cement,
drizzling upon mine into stationary,
where I revert to losing my place,
as if I don’t have something more to chase.
But this duplex is now empty,
which means I have surpassed it all,
I have conquered the utterly quiet nights,
the desperate calls that start fights.
I am on the brink to lose you in the rubble,
where I've drilled you into the old soil,
I’ve stuck you where you belong,
and no longer find you in every song.
Though I thought I could start clean without the black,
I know you were the black that brought me here,
the Hell I knew within those sheets,
the smudges where my eyelids meet.
But your time is absolutely finished,
in the chest you chose to bury,
and in my mind where I kept you alive
while I took on your spirit to revive.
I am no longer captive,
As I do not deserve that loneliness,
I do not deserve the brittle bones I saw as the End,
and I know I am a survivor more than I can comprehend.
feel the muddy shards land upon my cheeks,
a foreign material from those salty raindrops,
but it still doesn’t stop every leak.
With your face I find it pours cement,
drizzling upon mine into stationary,
where I revert to losing my place,
as if I don’t have something more to chase.
But this duplex is now empty,
which means I have surpassed it all,
I have conquered the utterly quiet nights,
the desperate calls that start fights.
I am on the brink to lose you in the rubble,
where I've drilled you into the old soil,
I’ve stuck you where you belong,
and no longer find you in every song.
Though I thought I could start clean without the black,
I know you were the black that brought me here,
the Hell I knew within those sheets,
the smudges where my eyelids meet.
But your time is absolutely finished,
in the chest you chose to bury,
and in my mind where I kept you alive
while I took on your spirit to revive.
I am no longer captive,
As I do not deserve that loneliness,
I do not deserve the brittle bones I saw as the End,
and I know I am a survivor more than I can comprehend.
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Only You
I've got this;
In my hands I portray strength
As I come out of the damp grave,
Brush off my feet and be brave.
Cause I'm gonna soar free,
Free from all this black smoke
And set foot with a clean sense
That I have taken my first leap over the fence.
I will walk and soon gallop,
As I savor the sun upon my cheeks;
I see that the power beyond those clouds
Has given me a voice so loud.
I will bellow to the world below
That you have seen me at my worst,
Where I reach for the wrong thing
And I savor what will only sting.
You've seen my hands bloody,
My nervous ticks that evade my every function,
That rip apart the peace in my heart
And leave me for dead,
Back to start.
You've seen my over zealous tastes,
Quenching for a thirst that will never satisfy
Or grant me contentment,
For it shall only promise such burrowing resentment.
You've heard my thoughts that race,
Sweating at the words that transcend thru all minds but my own,
Sending the tides in to crash
And break every rock built with grace from the past.
You've seen my darkest ideas,
To rid what you've given me,
And yet after all of this,
Life still keeps ticking
Because the worst is still worth living,
And with you,
It's only the beginning.
The Power Within, The Power Given
Blinding you from any other soul
And shackling your feet to the ground,
You feel no other choice so profound.
Just as a tumor invades a brain,
Spreading like blood oozes from a wound,
Covering every inch like a demonic hand,
Spreading toxins wherever it wants to land.
Nothing is real in this world,
Only evil to which your words have painted,
And only such thoughts could ever grant your limbs to move;
You'd be truly blessed to never lose.
As if sight weren't an option,
Where your skin is a shield to love,
You can't even grasp the truest actions,
Or even hear beauty in any fashion.
It's a love for darkness,
Where you've forgotten your roots
Or even simply how to walk;
Because you've learned what to count on,
And that's living for what is gone.
But it's that one glimpse,
That one sliver of light that makes you detach from the couch,
From literally being paralyzed,
That you finally are blessed with such strength,
To simply not know what it's like to want death at any length.
It's the beauty of blessings,
Of the armor you've been granted,
To repel any black coasting through your veins,
And giving you back Life to ride with full reign.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Out in the Cold
I sit at the bottom of the rope again,
eager to find the sturdiest strand
or maybe ask the ones who’ve left for a prop
because what’s the big deal if I drop?
I continue to strain every muscle,
grasping into dead air—
between me and all who has quit
searching for an embarrassment to fit.
I’ve tried them all on,
wasted months and years
trying to find an face ugly enough
for a grave that won’t be strong enough.
Either I’ll bask in the last patient few
or take the option to speed off,
stop reaching for an impossible climb,
and pivot my feet for a better rhyme.
I’ll let those ones dissipate,
grab on a little less
and learn how to let things fold
as its fate pushing me into another mold.
eager to find the sturdiest strand
or maybe ask the ones who’ve left for a prop
because what’s the big deal if I drop?
I continue to strain every muscle,
grasping into dead air—
between me and all who has quit
searching for an embarrassment to fit.
I’ve tried them all on,
wasted months and years
trying to find an face ugly enough
for a grave that won’t be strong enough.
Either I’ll bask in the last patient few
or take the option to speed off,
stop reaching for an impossible climb,
and pivot my feet for a better rhyme.
I’ll let those ones dissipate,
grab on a little less
and learn how to let things fold
as its fate pushing me into another mold.
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