All at once, with the blink of my eyes,

I was forced to grow beyond you and your disguise.

You string me up above Proctor’s Ledge,

At once I know, my life is close, on the edge.

While the tightening rope jackhammers the heart in my chest,

I collapse under the weight of failed loves duress.

Crying out in my head for where I went wrong,

The voice in my head echos “It’s time to move on”.

To afraid to let go, so I fight back for hope ,

As your fists betray me with each pull of the rope.

Suspending my trust, while you get high on desire,

With each gasp of breath, I begin to expire.

”You’re killing me…us” I muster at last,

but behind your eyes nothing but shallow glass.

Coyly you remove the mask from your face,

& with the final tug of your wrist, our hearts erase.

My heart performs a tune so few may hear,

A quiet violin whispering passionately in the ear.

The trees sing along but even they are distant,

Myself, alone, the only thing that’s consistent.

The piano keys quicken, giving way to the night,

As the stars lay dying, falling from light,

and darkness beckons me forward in fright.

The harp strikes harshly showing all that’s infected,

Harmonizing a tune of what’s self-neglected,

Myself, the cause for what self-abandoning affected.

As the silence falls, encapsulating my soul,

I collapse under the weight of my own black hole.

I try to see the shadows that make me whole,

But with each thump of the bass, my demons rush forward.

Left all alone, panicked, and cornered,

Myself, exposing how I feel tortured.

Deeper I dig into an eternal abyss,

Listening for the lessons of all that‘s amiss.

The symphony mellows, the thundering dismissed.

Myself, the conductor, of all I remiss.

With each epiphany that I unearth,

Alone is the place I learn my worth,

Accept myself, and with it rebirth.

I do not do well locked inside,

Away from sun, mountains, sky,

I do not do well stuck in bed,

The relentless pressure picks up in my head,

While I do well all alone,

Bed rest never feels like home.

I do not do well motionless,

It only leads to restlessness,

So I will climb a mountain in my mind,

So I may leave this stale bedroom behind.

I step into a thunderstorm of autumn, warm colors lighting the landscape. Setting fire to the giant cathedral of trees whispering of their life. Petrichor engulfs my olfactory senses and I feel a settling begin. With each inhale I’m brought closer to the taste of saplings and spice brewing within my cup. The heat radiating from my tea is a welcome break from the winds cool, biting hug. The precipitation picks up building with speed. Closing my eyes I imagine the thumping crash of water upon my heart, soothing its beating drums. With each strike of the my footsteps the fallen leaves crunch, crunch, crunch, beneath my feet. Diffused light from the rain clouds highlights the grass in the kisses of dew upon its skin. All at once, with the howl of the wind, I am transported home again. Present in a land of vast mountains and crashing thunder I welcome the decay; lost in the perfection of another ending day.