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Weak And Starving

I know you’re starving

Your supply of love has withered

And you’re craving for affection

But pretending to be indifferent.

I know you’re scared

Who could blame you if they knew

After all that you’ve been through

Asking for love would seem precarious.

I know you’re hiding

Wearing a mask to protect yourself

Concealing your needs from the vultures

And projecting your strongest face.

I know you’re tired

Exhausted from playing these games

Hardening and freezing your heart

As it begs to open up and bleed.

You’ve learned how easily a tender heart can wound,

How anyone that loves you knows just where you’re weak.

People forcing people to shelter their desires,

Preying on each other for that taste of love we seek.

I know how well you’re guarded, I recognize the signs.

I know the risks involved with trying to score some love.

I know we’re on alert for any weakness in another,

Waiting for our chance to steal away some of that drug.

I understand, I see you, and I know we’re all afraid.

I really need a taste myself before I fade away.

If we could call a truce, set our fears and worries free,

I’ll lick all of your wounds if you’ll do the same for me.

 

Beneath Unseen Things

Under the willow roots

A skeleton lays, looking up,

Wondering what it means

That he cannot be known.

All the living things

Above the surface earth

Perceive their present moments

Unaware of what’s below.

An impaled heart

Over which the willow weeps,

And dusty bones

Snuggled firmly in the dirt.

Unbroken silence,

The tree’s buried shelter

For secrets of its regions

That no one could know.

Dirt for the dead,

Commotion for the living,

Hollowness to follow,

Vacancy of thought.

Lovers, ash to dust,

Marrow is to bark.

Love without a light

To illumine what they are.

 

A Loud Night

July, late at night,

Fullest of expression,

Dance and open-ended,

But still separate.

One little touch,

A thrill and delight,

While falling so short

Of what I need.

Pleasant distraction,

These tortured revelries

Like simple remedies

For bored nothings.

Smile while laughing,

Not disingenuous,

But a lingering sadness

Sits in my brain.

Merely a touch,

One hit from the pipe

Of animal comforts

To top off the night.

 

 

Feeling Good

The pit of yearning

Maybe, can never be filled.

Like literal hunger,

It only eases for a while.

What kind of fuel

Feeds our happiness best?

Friendship burns

As Love swallows whole.

Nothing is still,

Even feelings have dimension.

Fear and empathy

Are almost equally absurd.

Stress and agitation,

Like a spring set to pounce,

The default position

Of a trauma endured.

Years in a minute

As tremors to anxious thoughts,

Like clarity of perception

When proportion rears its head.

Afloat outside a stream

Where timelessness meets space

Precarious indeed,

The scope of happy and of sad.

 

Vibrancy, The Shadow Unraveling

A braver me

Once hungered for the most radical,

The depths of pain and heights of pleasure,

Arts forbidden and obscene.

Looking for shadows,

The silhouettes of hidden meanings,

In music, words, and old philosophies.

All or nothing, or perhaps just me.

Everything to know,

To intercept as we compete.

Learning to express my ailments

Devoid of my identity.

 

A wiser me

Found meaning in shattered pieces,

Learned respect for my flaws,

And earned the rites of restoration.

Feeling through my being,

Pursuing dreams to their bitterest end,

Swallowing whatever lurks there,

And tasting something sweet.

Unraveling an eon

Of silent fears and insecurities,

Traversing the deathly path of nihilism

To know what I truly love.

 

 

Lay Awake

Stillness and restraint,

A body bound in ruffled sheets.

Living, but sedate,

Concerned only with its dreams.

Needful little wishes,

Faintly nibbling at perfection

For unresolved conflicts

Shrouding comfort in their impression.

Disassociate the brain,

In separation from the ache

Of toil’s jagged teeth

Dragging steadily while awake.

Restore and repair

The imbalances in the night.

Feeling and fantasy

Flowing inward, mind alight.

Purest completion,

Sheltered from the pangs of life.

Inverted creation,

Eyeless sockets stealing sight.

 

 

 

 

There Is No Path

Maybe no one is truly aware

As much as we aim to be.

Living, growing, transformation,

Post-stagnation apathy.

A step forward is learned

As all mistakes are lessons.

Lack of use atrophies

Like love does in depression.

Lost in some quagmire

I’m watching you flail

With the confident notion

I’ve passes where you fail.

It’s pitiful to see,

But each life is its own.

As much as I’ve flailed

Is as much as I’ve known.

But even one step

In your chosen direction

Could lead you astray

In an open-end question.

Answers are elusive,

However much we must learn,

But even a fragment

Of perception is well-earned.

 

My Recurring Themes

Being loved for me

Without expectation or fantasy

Seems difficult to believe

With my experience of me.

Not so much a wreck,

I survive and reflect

On which parts feel neglect

Like an Art without affect.

My solace is stained,

In my solitude contained

With a sadness ingrained

And expression estranged.

I mumble and shake,

Needs pulsing and awake,

Demanding that I break

Whatever is at stake.

I’ve worn out these flaws,

Dissected their causes,

Accepted my losses,

But still wrapped in their familiar claws.