Luna Under Ashes

I awoke,

Unsure of who I wanted to be.

Ashes fell from the overcast sky.

This happens every now and then.

I watch while making up my mind.

My possessions do little to assist,

Insufficient to help define.

My wandering thoughts distract,

Muddling every link I find.

A fluttering flake of ash

Descends and falls upon my eye.

I’m coated in the grayish dust

But still, I can’t decide.

I remember I was something,

But I know I don’t want that.

It lasted while I could,

But it isn’t where I’m at.

From gray to gray the sky revolves

And then from gray to black.

I’m shrouded in an ashen cloud,

Alive and inexact.

A vague idea still persists,

But it’s tangled up in doubt.

Endeavoring to fix the form

That’s tarnished in and out.

My restless mind has overstrained

And craves to leave me deep.

I’m swallowed under piles of dust,

Thus blanketed I sleep.

 

The tinkling sound of water

Streaming down

A silver fountain

Sweetly soothes

My troubled mind

Like smiles from precious friends.

I yawn and stretch

My brittle wings,

Glad of being found again.

Soaking in the pool,

The water crisp

And crystal clear,

I find I’m staring back

At my reflection unobscured.

“Love,” she said.

“You’re beautiful and

All that you should be.”

I close my eyes

And hold my breath,

Then plunge into the deep.

 

 

Living With Hell

Reality was harsh

Recognition was worse

Revelation was unbearable.

 

I could find truth

I could accept myself with it

But I couldn’t relate it to anyone.

 

I could argue

And I could explain

But never enough to satisfy.

 

I could relax

And I could let it go

But it couldn’t ever leave me.

 

I want to be real

To be honest and understood

But I’ve learned not to expect it.

 

I learned to stay quiet

To hide behind an empty face

But I can’t always help it.

 

I need to let it out

But I know there’ll be pain.

So much held back for so long,

And I know it’s gonna be Hell.

 

Persona and Identity

Persona vs Identity

Both more or less complex

Patterns, habits, and daydreams coalesce

Conscious acts and sub-conscious desires

 

Stare into the abyss

Reflections of war-like aggression

Jealous and sick with obsession

A stubborn will and icy heart

 

In paradox afflux

A Soul sensitive to touch

Brittle, and broken too much

Weak and crippled with toxicity

 

Accordingly and as such,

Conflicting passions run amock

Madness in emotions stuck

Paralyzed by determined chance

 

In trance or thought

Passivity mingles with distress

Shameful needs be addressed

Compelling, or just dwelling

 

In purer moments

All complexities relax

Heart and mind re-interact

And passion kindles brightly

 

Failures fall away

Proclaiming my essence

Assured of my vital presence

I’m deliberate, I’m awake

 

Pieces all in place

To know and love what I’ve become

To realize and overcome

Re-associative embrace

 

Accepting my entirety

All my fragments in contradiction

In defiance of definition

Thriving as chaotic force

 

The Whole vs The One

Many millions may there be

Maybe none of them are me

Or maybe it doesn’t matter

 

 

 

 

 

 

All The People In My Head

Some of them are funny, some of them are mean.

Some of them will only appear in my dreams.

Some like to go fast, others like it slow.

Some of them I hardly ever get to know.

This one is cynical, that one is meek.

This one’s just shy and too scared to be week.

That one is sensitive, this one is cruel.

He likes pretending that he makes the rules.

Sometimes they’re passive, sometimes they’re not.

Sometimes they’re anxious and screaming a lot.

A few are well-liked but most are despised.

Quite a few hide themselves with disguise.

This one is nice, she’s calm and she’s sweet.

That is wicked with malice and deceit.

Lustful are some while others are chaste.

One of them loves to feel tears on her face.

Some of them conflict, they don’t get along.

They pull me away from the place I belong.

They argue about me, they fill up my head.

They whisper to each other while I’m in bed.

Sometimes they’re helpful, sometimes they’re mean.

Sometimes they find myself in my dreams.