Silence

Silence. 

What I wouldn't give to have a bit of silence. 

To have one solid moment of peace and quiet.

Why’s it so hard to get that moment?

To escape the sensory overload of sirens and bass and screaming and banging,

Haranguing and barking and beeping and slamming.

Oh, to be able to hear the birds chirping,

The wind whistling and the leaves rustling.

To hear…. Nothing. 

Just the beating of my heart or my exhaled breath.

Bereft of the bleating of horns or

The nagging of mothers.

No screaming and cursing of friends or brothers.

No revving engines going only 30 miles per hour trying to sound powerful without a muffler's mercy.

My head is so rattled I can't even write another verse… see!?

Destinations

There's a place I want to go,

Thought it was close now I don't know.

I think it's mine and then I find,

That someone's moved the finish line.

 

I pick my goal, they block the way.

I’m trying so hard but have no say

In where I go, when I'll arrive

Or let to even feel alive.

 

I chose a place, I had to pass.

I chose another… it didn't last.

It's not that I don't know where to go,

It's that I’m constantly being told No!

 

There's a reason the title is plural,

And that place is a Home, whether city or rural.

Though I chose, it's constant coarse corrections.

I’m forced to change ‘find Home’ to Destinations.

I'm Doing Good... I'm Depressed I Think

Going into week two
I don't want to do anything
I want to do everything

All I want to do is sleep
I can't sleep
My sleep is broken by noise outside of me or the noises in my head

I heard someone
It was my children
Or it was a figment of my exhausted brain

I've no appetite
I'm starving
Cooking makes me feel fulfilled
Let's just order takeout

I want to create
Something beautiful
I don't want to do a damn thing
The page is blank

I need to exercise
But I can't bring myself to even move an inch
When awake I want to lie still
I try to sleep but my legs are restless to the point of actual pain

I feel nothing
Everything hurts
Kids need me for homework... dinner...
I can only bring myself to steal their hugs and kisses or hide in my room

I can't stop shaking
I startle easily
My heart races
As I sit still

I had so many appointments
I couldn't make it to a single one
Need to speak to my therapist
I don't feel like talking

There is so much I have to do
I can't bring myself to do a single thing...
It took me over an hour and
A fitful nap wrapped in heavy blankets to force myself to write these words.

I had a great week
I think I'm depressed... maybe... probably...

Yea. Definitely.

I think.

Flickering Futures

I don't know what the future holds.

Every time I think I see a direction, the picture changes.

The path goes dark and a different one appears just out of reach so that I have to jump to get there, or leap on faith into the darkness hiding my original path.

The picture of my future flickers like the faulty florescent light in my kitchen.

Can't poke at my future like I do with the broom to the wanky light.

I have to climb the ladder by the dim light trickling in to see my way and reilluminate my view.

Do I follow the flickering lights or trust the darkness...

Oddly enough, I know what's on those dark paths since I've seen them before and the newly lit seem more terrifying.

That unknown.

Can I trust, like the blind man who keeps his house just so, that things weren't moved into my path?

Can I anticipate it if it was?

How do I find my way with senses dulled by anxiety?

But I can't stand idly in the dark, waiting for the future to shine a spotlight on me.

I have to forge my way.

Ever forward, path be damned.

I've been stumbling along so far; what's a few more trips?

Holding My Breath

What do you do when the other half of your soul wants to die? When the heart of the one who holds the pieces of yours together is dying?

What do you do when you know your soul will die with theirs but at least their suffering will end when yours begins?

Do you save them?

Let them go?

If you can't convince them not to die, can you convince them to live?

What if they can't?

Won't?

What if every smashed table, broken cup, shattered glass is a piece of one's mind coming apart?

What if every cut on their skin is felt in your heart? Every drop of blood spilled a tear wrenched from loving eyes?

What if a soul that shines so brilliant in its darkness, like glittering obsidian, wants to pass on but it hurts to release its beauty?

Knowing obsidian can be honed to the sharpest blade, can slit you open like a kiss, can you still relinquish it's beauty?

Can you sacrifice the love of your life when all they want is death?

Can you continue to live after they die?

Can you watch them go?

Or do you look away as though it will prevent the pain? Close your eyes tight and pray their soul to keep?

How do you save a life that wants to drown? That welcomes the shark-like jaws of death to their bleeding bosom?

Should you try, knowing you'll be cut by those jagged teeth, too?

Do you wipe their brow of plague knowing pestilence will pass to you?

Is it selfish to want to hold they who are your very breath, even though they beg you to exhale?

Is it wrong to fight for a brilliant mind and not let a lifetime of memory disappear like pages burning to ash in the wind?

How can you allow the light of your life to snuff itself out?

How do you let your heart drift away in the storm?

How do you watch life's blood pump out upon the ground without putting your hands to the wound?

But what if saving them hurts them more?

If for them living is pain and for you dying is pain, what's the better choice?

Do you have the right to be selfish when it comes to life?

Why is existence so painful for some to the point of sacrificing the gift of being?

If they throw it away, can you rightfully snatch it up?

Do I let you go?

Do I make you stay?

Do I even have the choice?

I refuse to let go.

But you're going to leave anyway.

You're already gone.

I love you.

Please don't force me to let you go.

I don't know how.

I don't want to.

Sorry not sorry...In so many ways.

Oh God... I've lost my breath.

Photo by Nica aka Eileen. Editing thru PicsArt

Vows

We live in a world of hate.
Where little orange men cannot lead but rather dictate.

Where hooded babies bang on black cop shields.
Where the peaceful fall before torches and wooden swords Evil wields.

Where Nazis are rebranded and terrorists are renamed.
Where people of color and fighters for peace are defamed.

This is not the world I want my children to live in.
This is not the world I want anyone I love to live in.

This is not the world created back then.
This is one corrupted by Satan and men.

This country where Evil no longer hides its face in shame.
But rather gloats and preens in its fame.

Where history repeats madness again.
And girls and boys of palest pallor pose as women and men.

This speaks not to age but maturity.
This is blind hatred most assuredly.

We must stand tall in the face of those that would gleefully see us dead.
Against their twisted logic I will hold up my head.

I will show our children that God created a rainbow of men, not a blank world of white.
That we all bleed red when we fight.

That tan skin, woolen hair, accented words and culture rooted in faith and tradition isn't a sin.
We ALL deserve to be here. So, Let's Begin.

Packing Memories

Packing away memories,

wrapped in paper,

in a box.

Symbols of a happier time,

awakens feelings,

as my heart knocks,

around in my chest.

The panic rising,

tears pushing locks,

I have placed on the pain.

My disdain,

for breaking down mental blocks.

Tears pressing behind eyes,

like burning waves,

crashing against rocks.

Must keep anxiety at bay,

hold panic prisoner,

in emotional stocks.

So I have a drink,

and pack up feelings,

and memories in a box.

[Photo credit: Unknown. Not my own]