Veracity

I hold back

The evidence that would betray me,

For it will bear witness to the truth

Of what’s been done.

 

And even though, perhaps,

The truth might make me stronger,

These fact-bearers would also show the cracks

And scars I carry

hidden away in darkness,

and the things I cannot say,

those agonizing thoughts,

become palpable

and then must needs be dealt with.

 

And I am not ready.

 

So I fight back the attestants,

Those warm, wet, and salty testifiers,

That would willingly tell my story

The moment they fell from my eyes.

 

*Day 4’s NaPoWroMo prompt is to write about sadness in a simple way. Well, I wrote about fighting sadness and losing that battle. And it’s not really in a simple way I suppose but then sadness is rarely simple.

Last Request

Now I lay me down to sleep.

For my bones, do not weep.

 

I do not lay here wanting grief;

In my rest I’ve found relief.

 

No more worrying over day to day affairs;

No more crying over unhappy cares.

 

In the earth I now have peace;

In the quiet all has ceased.

 

All my sorrows are washed away;

No more suffering, no more dismay.

 

Weep not, I say, for what is gone

Look to others, look to your own.

 

Care for those who continue to struggle,

Care for those who cannot juggle

 

The mind’s chess game with them as pawn.

Weep for the living, those who walk alone.

 

Turn your eyes and hands to them,

Let your love be their stem.

 

For it may be their life was spared

Because of you and those who cared

 

To see the pain behind their tears,

Who understood and calmed their fears.

 

Then come the morning and the rising sun

Come to me and say, “Thy will was done.”

 

And I will smile in my sleep

Because you did not weep.

 

*Probably a good idea to not snack too close to bedtime…you know, in case you wake up crying from a dream you can’t remember and the lines to a poem running through your head and neither will let you get back to sleep.

Matins

What thoughts endeavor to pierce the brain

as we keep watch in the darkling night,

the slumbering stillness

of the breath held

until the stars blink and yawn, stretch,

and fade with the lightening sky.

 

While the earth waits and shadows play games,

visions of past wrongs accuse,

demand justice: atonement or forgiveness,

and peace comes on the horizon

by light or by blood.

 

*Had a completely different poem enter my head but I was caught in the middle of something and couldn’t write it down right away. The only line that I kept was “by light or by blood”. I was thinking of a story I heard about the Crusades, how the men would keep watch in the night before battle and other similar stories. I then had a memory of someone telling me long ago that matins was a version of that (to keep evil from coming in the night) and my brain correlated that with depression. Many is the time I have battled my thoughts in the dark and with the dawn sleep came, and a small semblance of peace. But there were times when, in the darkest point of the night, that I thought I wouldn’t make it. By light or by blood; life or death.

Ouroboros

 

This is where I exist:

An endless loop

Returning to itself,

Going forward,

Going back,

Swallowing my tail,

Eternal heaven and hell,

Never any slack,

Pushing toward

an abyssal shelf,

no chance to recoup,

simply subsist.

Find me

Find me lying
Lying under the snow.
A wishfully-thought peace
Of mind,
Don’t mind
How I go
But I would rather
Foxtrot
Quick! Quick! Quick!
From life, not slow,
For little me
Who never learned to dance
For frightened me
Who never took the chance
For ugly me
Who ne’er accepted love
For stubborn me
Who wouldn’t change enough.
For all my loves
Whose love is just a loss
And finds me lying,
Lying under the snow
Stained dark throughout
And so whiteout
I go
With just one wish:
That I had the gumption
Daring, or even the snow
To accomplish
This.

Broken

Tell me to keep going one more time

Because you think I can do it

Tell me everything is possible

As long as I want it bad enough

Oh, but don’t you know

 

Sometimes the pain is too much

And I’ve no more stamina

My endurance is pushed to its limits

And I can’t keep going.

 

Where are you then

Where are you then

When I’m on my knees

I’ve given in

Where are you then

Where are you then

 

Take these pills

It will get better

Keep going

You’re made of strength

 

Oh, but don’t you know

Determination only goes so far

When the demons come out to play

And don’t you know, oh, don’t you know

They know where my darkest fears reside

 

Where are you then

Where are you then

When the world attacks and my cave crashes in

Where are you then

Where are you then

When I’ve given in

 

Keep your blue stripes

Keep your rainbow ribbons

I’ve got no more stamina

Endurance pushed to the limits

It’s time to simply…

 

STOP!

 

*Not everything can be cake and ice cream days. Sometimes you’ve got to just let the storm rage and make it through. Not that it’s raging for me currently but somewhere someone’s storm is hurricaning through them. (Yes, I made that a verb.) This is what it feels like for me when I just can’t take anymore “helpful” consolation, even though I know they mean well.

Shadow soaked

 

 

Sidewaysed
In my peripherals
Tiny flashes
Smoke and ashes
Failing dreams
Block the sun
Shadow soaked
I’m done

I see you

I see you.
I know you cry
Bewailing the lost dreams
And wondering why
Your life turned out this way
Choices you made
Choices made for you
Times you went astray
And how you stuck
To your principles, to your guns
And hoped that luck
And circumstance
Wouldn’t cut you dead
Or leave too much to chance
But still you hang your aching head
In tired hands and wonder
How to cope now your world
In spite of your precautions, was ripped
Asunder, driving you off the edge
Into overwhelm and exhausted left you
At a ledge – the very precipice of self
No-one could save you, yet you held
Onto what you couldn’t trust
But hoped was right
Somewhere in the depths of your darkest night
You turned to diamond glory
And now I stand in awe, as you unveil
Your story, now written in victory
In love, in light, in rainbow hues
Bright skies and summer days without end
And I watch, SO proud to call you Friend.

 

For Hasty, whose friend I am ALWAYS and endlessly delighted to be ❤

Between the Lines

And then there are those who get lost
Between the lines; whose lives transposed
In blood, and sacrifice of sanctity –
Of flesh –
Gouge runnels to avoid,
And yet create more, mess…

There are those whose anger bleeds
Turned inwards, for turned out t’would never cease
Or desist, and so ‘tis simpler then
To dig deep,
Watch red,
And be stilled when
It flows and pours away

And then those others whose bruised bones
Don’t shatter, bend, or break;
Whose rhythmic tones
Of thud-thud-thudding
Stay the course of action
To something worse?
To catatonia?
Distraction?

Or those whose muddled heads fill in
So quick with vengeant anguish at their sin
(Whomsoever’s the fault, they take it for their own)
And through disfigurement somehow disown
Their part, for transformed thus
By shame; by scars
Pathetic! Such a fuss
And all laid on their skin to no avail
Except now all can see how very
Very
VERY
Much
They fail.

Those white-tracked lines
Those faded, skin-sealed whispers
All combine
In permanent reminder of
This time
That time
One time
Again you cut;
You cut again!
All saw
You cut
Dumbfuck.

 

Poetry can strike at any time, and on this occasion it was a submitted post over at Sisterwives – The Last Time I Cut – which was the culprit inspiration for this piece.

Each verse I wrote has applied to me in the past (sadly not as distant past as I would prefer to admit) and the lack of compassion therein is only extended to myself. Self-harm is bad news, because it often feels like the only way forward at times, and if you do it, please find someone you trust to talk to about it. 

Emotional Hangover

I’ve fallen over that dread edge again
My thoughts in tangles and my heart undone
I’m lost in tangents; light-bathed, wasted
Beauty bloodied by the setting sun

My world feels raw and shadowed now
My heart tied firm to yours in bright red string
Though barbed I draw it close around me
Grounded by the comfort love and hurt bring

“Acknowledge; embrace; step back; reframe”
I fight for air – my soul as yet unseasoned
A tattered being drowning in life’s floods again
Waterlogged and heeding voices still unreasoned

A false smile scratches claws across my cheeks
Head pounding – a relentless, dizzy drum
Unbidden prayers lips whisper into vapour
Heart keens to feel the warmth of drenching sun

Darkness drags the corners of existence
I’m too lacklustre to leave a life half-won
Please keep me tethered, wait, and I will glow again
To reignite; burn bright as I’d begun.