F33.1

That cloudy state of mind where

The voices become tinnitus,

And the world beyond the perimeter becomes

As vague and amorphous as the view thru a

Greasy window.

That underlying sound ebbs and flows

From peaceful cicadas to screeching sirens.

The view waxes and wanes

From lava lamp to acid flashback.

And inside this…

Inside this plexiglass box…

I still seek refuge in the corners

Where the screaming mumbles are quietest,

And the melting swirls are more colorfast.

I hate this tardis-like container of mine

That apparates of its own accord,

No warning or pattern.

Neither banging my fists on its walls,

So flexible, they seem liquid,

Nor shouting for mercy thru tears of

Sanity (Insanity?) at its edge

Break the plastic barrier between.

Between me and everything else.

Everyone else.

I give up.

I give in.

I wait for its moment of weakness,

By then too worn and tired to fight,

And instead, like pulling the sword from the stone,

Walk gently thru to the

Other Side…

 

 

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Fighting the urge to settle

To fall back

To bring it back to life-

Ill-fitting and stained-

From the back of your brain.

It had its time and

Its time is gone.

Don’t bring it back.

It isn’t a comfort object.

He isn’t a comfort object.

Don’t give in

To loneliness and the waves of

Sadness that pour over you

And drown you

Filling your lungs and making it impossible to breathe.

It’s a trick that your mind plays

On your soul.

It’s all in your head.

All in your head.

Don’t let it touch your heart and become real.

Step away from the phone.

Step away from the keyboard.

Step away from the memories.

And wait.

Don’t give in.

Don’t settle.

You won’t drown.

You will remember how to breathe underwater.

Just like you did

The last time you gave in and found

Once again

That something isn’t always better than

Nothing.

Don’t Tell Me

What would you think if i told you

I was scared?

That i’m afraid that all these plates i’m spinning will fall and

Crash to the ground

And everyone will see that i can’t

I can’t do it

Can’t perform, entertain,

Mesmerize

I’m not what they paid for

My circus, my pageant, my show is a

Sham

 

What would you think if i told you

I was  ashamed?

That i am hurt and anguished over all i

Haven’t done

Should have done

Couldn’t do

And embarrassed at the things

I did

For reasons that no longer seem sound

Or sane

And each day that goes by i grow more and more

Terrified

Of what i might do next

 

What would you think if i told you

I was angry?

That the world around me and everything in it

Fills me with disgust

And despair

That the hatred and meanness to fellow men

Makes bile rise in my throat and

My heart burn with tar

And sadness

And it pains me that i cannot fathom a way to

Remove it all

Without becoming

What i despise

 

What would you think if i told you

I was lonely?

That my soul is full of desperation for a connection

That my heart will not allow

And even tho i defeat my own purpose i am

Unable to stop the thorns

That grow around my core and

Protect it

Whilst destroying me

Knowing full well that there is no Prince

With gilded sword

Willing to hack them away for the meager treasure

That awaits

 

What would you think if i told you

I don’t care?

Or care too much?

Or am not even sure if those two things aren’t

One and the same

The line so fine that spiders

Think it delicate

The lace made of it

Forms a web in my skull encasing

The fly in my brain

Who has no choice but to succumb to the fangs

Of Reality

 

What do you think

If you think of me at all?

Does it make sense

Do i make sense

Or am i as alone, as shamed as i fear

Please no

Please no

Please know

No Wicked Indulgence

You.

You men.

You overestimate your worth

And underestimate hers.

You turn away from the Deep Blue Sea

As if your shallow pool of self

Is better.

The sharp bite of chlorine hiding the stench of

Your fear

And denial

That you are no better than she.

You have no idea what you have

In your hands.

Her.

The inadmissible alibi.

The unadmittable sin.

Too good to stay away.

Too bad to be seen.

Don’t be afraid.

Don’t be afraid.

She is better than you think

In ways you cannot imagine.

In ways you never considered.

No confession required.

Toss aside your notions

And your social limitations.

See the depth and expanse of

Who she is.

An ocean of curved flesh

And sharp, pointed mind.

Trigonometry beyond work of any mathematician.

She is the universe in

All its glory.

And you will never see but one corner of it

For your limited vision.

You and all the other of your ilk

And gender.

But as Galileo was solitary in his appreciation

Of space,

So will be the one who finally looks past.

Who has no fear.

It will be his gain.

And your loss.

And there will be no time machine to go back and

Lose face

Rather than losing your heart

And drowning in your puddle of

Pretention.

The price of Indulgence has

Just gone up.

And you…

You can no longer afford her.

I Am the Codfish

Hold it in.

Hold it back.

Until you can bear it no longer.

Take as much as you can.

Til you’re about to burst.

Then take some more.

It’s Tantric.

Like sex.

But without the enjoyment.

This.

My stress life.

More relevant than my sex life.

And certainly more abundant.

My work,

Like stress porn.

Pushing me farther to the edge.

Closer and closer.

So close. So close.

But the cliff dive has no bliss.

Only jagged rocks.

And a reasonable paycheck.

What kind of yoga is this?

The manipulation of the sacred mind

For the benefit of the trumped up guru.

Swallowing heap upon heap of

Garbage and rhetoric.

Tantric, my ass.

This is my stressful revolution.

Like the 1970s, with less bush

And more growth.

Cue the music.

Bom chicka wow wow.

End scene.

 

What He Remembered

A memory.

Torn from my book like an

unflattering picture.

It was broken.

And frightening.

And ugly, besides.

But you kept it.

A little scrap of fabric from a filthy and

shredded quit.

Underneath the grime

and the picked out stitches

you saw a coat of many colors.

So you kept it.

Not for blackmail,

or schadenfreude,

or a tear-jerking meme…

But because…

Well, i don’t know why.

I never asked why

you kept it.

The memories from then,

dark and underexposed,

that i left to rot in a basement

riddled with

black mold and rats..

You took your copy and put it in a safe place.

And when you showed it to me, it was

as if i’d found a baby tooth,

tucked away in a forgotten jewelry box…

You kept it as a souvenir.

And now i have it again.

A picture still unflattering.

A piece still broken,

and frightening,

and ugly, besides.

A scrap of a quilt once devoid of value…

Now a symbol of victory.

I can see it.

I see it because

You kept it.

For My Sister

Look ahead.

There is a light.

A bright and shining light.

They believe it’s Oz.

I say it’s a future ripe with possibility.

You worry it’s a train.

But i tell you this~

No matter how far away it looks,

How rough the tunnel pavement,

How nasty the stench of the sludge…

You will emerge in the light.

You who has toiled

And sacrificed

And found yourself hanging on tooth and nail

To the handrails…

You who never gives up.

It will pay off.

Just keep looking towards the light.

The end is coming.

Just keep going.

A few more steps.

You can do it.

Your life awaits

In the light.