if I told you that I had the flu

you'd tell me to go home.

but why is it

when I tell you I am flaring

with my illnesses

you neither see nor understand

you see fit

to decide

whether my suffering

is worthy enough

to be acknowledged

by way of judgement,

and doubt,

and choruses of

"you dont look sick" ?

why do you have empathy

when injury and illness

are acute

and not

when they are permanent?

just because

we handle it daily

that

does not mean

it

hurts

any

less.

its not

that I miss my father

or that he has never seen

what his legacy

had become

but rather

that he has never known

I am so much more

than a abandoned son

but a father

who was always there

for his own son

I kissed the abyss and it tasted like regret,

like old wounds that never stitched themselves shut,

like broken oaths and voices that drown in silence.

It whispered to me with a lover’s tongue,

promising warmth while pulling me deeper.

I traced my fears in the dark,

felt their shape against my skin,

a map of scars that never healed right.

Each breath was a confession—

each sigh, a surrender to the cold.

There is a madness in longing,

in the way we cling to what shatters us.

I buried my hope beneath my ribs,

let it rot there, turned to dust,

and breathed it out in a shudder.

You came to me, a flame in your eyes,

offering light but burning too hot to hold.

I wore your heat like a cloak,

until it scorched the truth from my bones.

And when I begged for mercy, you gave me fire.

Now, I am the ashes that haunt the wind,

the ghost of a flame that refused to die,

the echo of a heartbeat you can’t forget.

I am the shadow that remembers the light,

and the light that remembers the dark.

So come, trace your fingers along my ruin,

feel the tremor beneath the calm.

I am everything you fear and desire,

the ghost you can’t lay to rest.

Touch me, and I’ll pull you under—

into the dark where we are bound,

into the silence where we begin again.

© 2024 A.M. Roberts. All rights reserved.

"Castles made of sand...

Slip into the sea...

Eventually." — Jimi Hendrix, Axis, Bold as Love

My reputation is built on granite

Solidly planted

One with the planet

Never recanted

Its spires reach to heaven

Its turrets defend my realm

Defying repossession

And refuse the overwhelm

Yet aspirations are wicked

And circulate through pipes

And rise and fall, as liquid

To rot, below, the hype

Granite is not forever

And castles suffer disorder

When acceptance of whatever

Is used for brick and mortar

No castle is perfect

Even one built on stone

We allow the cracks that reflect

To show what we've become

No time for rest

Here comes the steady threat,

With broken bones

He built this throne

And there He hangs

His cracked head;

Stay unseen, stay unheard

When He has the urge,

For

To love Him

Is to Fear Him—

This Love

Is the sharpest blade,

This Love guts!—

With a different pair of hands

For a every different day;

Conquest is a crime

Of good intention

Apologies of

Repeat lines

Who never speak,

But for between the grind

Of jagged teeth;

The King is in recline

Felled by His own sword,

Gold in His veins

Diluted with

All-purpose shame,

This is the Dynasty He’s left—

A sprawling wreckage of Pain

A pitiful testament

Laid vast

In one Man’s name;

Here lied the King of California

Glassy-eyed

Sacrifice—

All His Dragons in His head;

Here lies the King of California

Alone in his La-Z-Boy, trailer,

Dead as his cigarette—

His legacy,

Lapsed cable,

Static on the tv set.

For all those whom my father hurt,

directly or indirectly–I am sorry.

J.M.Liles ©️2024

seeds of the apple

are nuggets of cyanide

poison in a pinch

...

8/28/2024

...it is the day

we sanctimoniously

state:

Never again!

and then, add,

Post-mortem

is better than

boredom;

but that is of course

odd hearsay

drolly

repeated

to expedite

the errata

of our ways

Frozen

An icy touch of death

a moment of indecision

paralyzed in every way

anxiety creeping up inside of me

am I going to be ok?

Frozen,

its just another night.

Frozen,

Can I see the light?

I sit at my bed

inside of my head

fear

betrayal

help,

I said.

But that was long ago.

I have come far along this road.

The one that leads to hours of sleep

Desperate staring, silence glaring.

Can't get up

Can't take a bath.

My mind tells my arm to move

but I can't do that.

I'm frozen

in inescapable fear

my body and mind seize

my heart upon a brease

clouds cross the sky

time is ticking by

but I cannot move a mussel

in my mind I struggle

tick tock goes the clock

creeping toward the end

1 hour

2 hours

3 hours

4

here I am, staring at the floor.

No one else is around

I should feel safe

but endless insecurities are grinding at my gates

A new day rises

I haven't slept a wink

Didn't move a mussel

but never did I sleep.

I take my meds at seven am.

for five minutes, I sleep

Night time meds

Seven am was when I finally went to bed

Frozen

out of control

I sit at the mirror and watch my tragedy unfold

meaningless words are written on a page

PTSD, psychology, no one can help

no one can help me

four years I've tried and tried again

four hours I spent, staring at my bed

willing myself to move

the tragedy ensues

Coffee, medicine, skipping days of school

anxiety, therapy and still I stare at you.

I stare at night, sitting in my bed

I cannot get your image out of my head

I can't forget your touch:

wrinkled, worn and cold

A tragedy that happened years ago continues to unfold

I'm told

I'm told

it continues to unfold

can't wait

can't wait

yet you froze me here in place

four days

four years

four times I wished you'd never been here

yet here you are

knocking at my door

go away

I can't handle you anymore.

Not anymore

Not anymore

I can't handle you anymore

Circles

Circles

run my brain

slowly decay

slowly decay

frozen in place

I stare at your face