A reasonable facsimile of happiness painted in viscera

There are days where my bones are bells chiming discordance
Heart aching days where silence is my only defense through silent screams and sobs
Ugly crying trying to expel the pain of being
Feeling it catch in my throat
Too big to let go of

Days where all the pain is masked by being tired
Sleepless nights looking for escape
Unwilling to take what feels like maybe the only option
But knowing it’s a lie
That success is failure
That failure is one more chance
… To be something other than lonely

I’m a bag of broken clattering together
Making music that soars and sings
All from the painful pieces
Cut open
Hoping this time
This time
To be
Free

Dogs barking, can’t sleep without umbrella

Sitting awake meaning to sleep
But I just sit here eyes closed
Thinking about tomorrow
Anticipation insomnia
Trepidation too
But mostly I can’t sleep when I have things to say
Nonsense things
Pointless things
Cute things
Sexy things
Quiet things
Music things
Just things
It all pents up
Flowing out in this nervous energy
Keeps me awake
Keeps my mind churning
Over and over
Not exactly the best trait
To sometimes feel like you’re walking on spiky rocks
Needing to talk
And all that comes out is
“hey, 😁, good morning!”
Weirdo
Goofy Sir
Serious and happy
This is what I mean when I say
“I’m too much”
Too many things
Stupid things like
“I like you.” said too much
Words bubble out of my effervescent heart
Bypassing thought
It’s no wonder nothing lasts
Who could stand up to the onslaught of my feelings
And now we reach the heart of it
Fear
An anxiety attack that builds slowly
Reading, games, TV, kitties
Anything to not think
To not word vomit my heart out
Yet
That’s all that works
Other than being held

Spent casing memories

Spent casing memories
Softly raining down to the wet earth
A thousand rounds per minute
Trying to overwhelm
Hard fought equilibrium

Easier to push them aside until I can’t move, waste deep in wasted ammunition
These rounds fall faster
Burying me neck deep
The smell of gunpowder and lingering cosmoline

Drowning in this bullet hell
Thoughts flying
Keeping me from you

Stalking horse

These morning hours wait for me
Sitting around sharpening their knives
Waiting to ambush me
To drag me out into the streets and devour me
I need a word or a touch but there’s no one
The world sleeps
and these words hunt me
I burn and burst but can’t find you
dreams elude me
I need to save you or you to save me
but I’m just a word fool
hunted by hours
waiting for the sun to say wake.

I know this is depression but…

I am nothing but a moment, a memory, a hope

Dropped glass shattered, splinters broken, time itself bleeds
False hopes play us for fools
And the ache of sleepless nights cuts deeper than bones
Happiness a fiction we spin

This last breathe fades as a night of dreams shakes off false imagery for a cold inhalation of frigid air, born anew as sun crests horizon

Last tears shed as the ache unfolds and the mind tells its pretty truths and ugly lies.

And the part that is fear gorges and speaks, the ugliness must be true for who would speak such things if they were not

Laying in bed, unable to sleep, alone

I sometimes think, “I’m just this mad thing. Bound up in desires impossible to realize. Trying to get others to see, to accept, impossible beauty, impossible desires, so that at some point I won’t be alone.”

Its weird to think this way, I think. Weird to hope this way. To jump then question the decision. To fall in love, then hope they are in love as well. All of these thoughts bouncing around in my brain and mostly I want a few minutes of silence. Or, if not silence, then to speak with my love. The person I love. About anything, everything.

That last is the most normal.
Which brings us to why do I care what seems normal. It’s simple. Confirmation bias. Artists and open minded types surround ourselves with similar people. So much so that mainstream ideas seem foreign. And because they do, we are less likely to engage in those areas. And as we pull away, we, ourselves, become foreign to people in the mainstream. This leads to a problem. Our audience for our art should be able to reach as many people as possible. Not because as many people as possible enjoying the work is the goal but because reach means that the people who need to read the piece or hear the poem are more likely to do so.

These are the places my mind goes when all I really want is to be with you. To hold you. To learn you. All the things we need to be successful in a relationship. See? Overthinking even in the face of my desire to simply be with the person I love

Reason I couldn’t sleep #11

The wolf statue that stands guard over the raven feather the wind gave me was facing the wrong direction and the feather was positioned wrong as well.  Didn’t realize until this morning.  

One of the ocd people in my house must have seen the books on that shelf leaning over and used the wolf like a bookend.  Nope, nope nope. 

My always

I tell my loves and lovers always. That I will always be honest. Always be faithful. Always be there. Always keep their desires in mind. Always listen, if not understand. Always support their choices, provided those choices hurt none. Always love them. Always, always, always.

Its true and not true. I will always. Unless you walk away, no longer want me. In that circumstance, my always drifts away like a dream apparating into consciousness. Leaving me with the only always you can be certain of. I will always love you. Love is not finite. It grows to encompass all.

I feel it needs to be said, that the person I am with now. The person I love now. She is different from all prior loves. In most I am holding some piece of myself back. Some bit I don’t feel safe to share. With my Goddess of my Heart, she could have all of me. Everything I am. Life doesn’t wait for it to be simple or easy. I’ve learned that. And when it seems easy, it becomes difficult almost out of spite. We can overcome it. I’ve made my choice. I make it again and again. My choice is you. Again and again.

Head pounding

Is there anything more daunting than the blank page? When your heart and thoughts are awhirl. When your mind is making connections and your heart is making wishes. When your subconscious is screaming for attention and your head is pounding. When your eyes burn from not sleeping and your heart begins to sink. It all becomes too much, and you just want a minutes peace. To sink into the arms of a friend, a lover, and forget. To feel safe. So easy, seductively easy, treacherously easy…