Of Consequence

Why am I always so afraid and angry? How can the two exist with such intensity in one place?

Maybe subconsciously I know I will mess up everything.

Others have done this, and now I need to add my words?

If I could get them out right anyway… there’s always a better way to say it.

I just get in my own way.

Who am I anyway? 

Why should my words carry any weight?

What does it feel like to be supported, to not have to beg for the bitter dregs?

The very thing that broke me — that still haunts and provokes me — gave me the power to walk away.

Image by No-longer-here from Pixabay

The Breaking

I keep pouring myself into hope

only to be crushed by the wave of loneliness…

when will it break?

When my predictions are borne out,

I don’t want to be right.

I don’t want to be right.

When I try to keep the faith,

when I give my fire to feed the flame,

I’m left standing with these ashes in my hands.

It’s like you expect me to give and give and give to you,

give my life away and not receive a thing.

Tell me how I find balance when all my strength is on holding the pieces.

Letting go of your hand, not caring if I fall or if I stand,

running to the wave that would crash into me.

I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again – this won’t be the breaking of me.

Image by nahid hatamiz from Pixabay

Shadowland

The last time I remember

not being scared out of my

ever-loving mind,

was in a foreign land.

Fields of lavendar guarding

castle ruins

Butterfly wings beating

you might not hear it

but it’s a hurricane to me

make a scene

make a scene

make a scene

though I doubt that you’ll see me

I keep my distance

I see shadows when the sun is shining

Image by Игорь Левченко from Pixabay

The Ashes of Freedom

Open the prison doors

but my mind is still in lockdown

You pushed the lever that set the gears in motion

I’m an open flame

burn it all down

won’t you burn with me

I’m silent. I can’t speak.

shut down even when I’m awake

I can’t remember anything

maybe it’s better this way –

stay numb so it doesn’t matter when the words don’t come

what I enjoy becomes

a burden,

something to avoid

Dark Waves

The things that I have seen have haunted my dreams

The things that I have heard have stayed with me

It doesn’t matter how fast I run

It doesn’t matter how far I go

I’m trapped inside this penitentiary

Dark waves crash into me

pulling me out, out to sea

Image by Roger Mosley from Pixabay

When I Can’t Breathe

A perpetual state of fear

with a dash of agony, maybe I need

a dose of reality

I tell myself to step into the pain,

step into the pain

I could do this a thousand times but I’m

locked inside again when the next round comes

How long do I have to hide my face?

Where do I hide when I can’t escape me?

Image by fancycrave1 from Pixabay

On Being

shaking, shaking

my heart is racing, racing

freeze – fight – flee

I know the darkness that’s chasing me.

Pretending it doesn’t exist, I’m pressing on until the end, but I’m left shaking, shaking.

Terror icing my veins, fear seizing my brain, panic setting in no matter how many times I do this.

I wish this was all in my head so I could stop being so bad.

I don’t want to disappoint. I just want to be good.

Torturing myself, I forge ahead, and I feel like I’m breaking, breaking.

I made my own porcelain mask; now I won’t bother anyone.

From the outside it appears, as if I am really here, but how can I be present when I’m living in fear?

I wish this was all in my head so I could stop being so bad.

Image by Marc Pascual from Pixabay

What I’m Not

I’m not a superwoman.

Why is that the standard? Why is it the prize?

Everyday, I try to be better, but there’s never enough time.

No, sometimes I surprise myself with all the ways I don’t get it right.

When every moment must carry the weight of yesterday and the fear of tomorrow, I am condemned and hopeless.

I walk lockstep with the pattern, routine, familiarity as was shown to me. It flows in my veins; there’s nowhere to run.

grinding, twisting, painful existing

I try to pluck it out but it still bursts out,

like a field of dandelions when you wanted a lawn.

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

It’s too cold for you here

Snowfall on tree tops. My heart beats and then stops.

I was looking for my twin flame so maybe I’m the one to blame.

Maybe you can’t save me or I’m not the one who needs saving.

If you are my downfall but I’m your redemption, how do we decide, who makes the call?

I don’t want to fall in love — be entangled in all of

the ways — get lost in the things that send me astray.

Baby, baby take me there. Maybe if I get lost you won’t find me near.

If I do this for you, would you accept what you always knew?

I don’t love you. I don’t want to.

I’m sorry for every time I was right, every time I got what I expected from life.

It’s too cold for you here. It’s time to move on my dear.

The Unquiet Within

steel yourself

invoke the warrior within

the enemy is upon us

counter the blows of battle

face the unquiet within

another day begins