Inside Out
at a loss
beneath the sofa
retrieve me
at all costs!
on hand ’n knee
bent in fatigue
underneath
some place
is a key
dropped
day by day
like success
of wayward
pennies
in duress seen
deaf between
the rain pans
and endless
linted rolls
from under foot
and feet of the
torn corner seat
as the landlord
sits to enumerate
community deficit
searching pockets
for some receipts
signed sighs
escape
from a broken frame
that locks
from behind
yes it’s cold outside
#DepressionAnxietyLossImages #Challenge
Falling
Falling without anyone to catch me,
This is my worst habit,
One I need to change soon.
I fall easily and fast,
Never do I fully recover.
I am not the kind of person,
Who loves one person one day,
And another the next.
I tend to never stop loving,
That special person.
My heart becomes split,
Into sections,
That are ever changing.
Imagine loving someone,
But they could never love you back,
Especially not in the eyes of society.
Imagine falling for someone,
Who just lets you fall.
Imagine feeling a piece of you,
Torn out on a regular basis,
Not every day,
But too often for comfort or health.
The feeling of loss,
Taking control.
Dead
Why can’t I feel anything? Why does my heart pound everytime I have to talk to someone? Why am I empty?
He beat me when I was only 5.
I can’t remember the last time I felt loved by a man who wasn’t lying.
Why do they hate me? Am I not pretty enough for them?
I just want to be loved, why can’t he just love me?
I look in the mirror, UGLY, that’s all I see.
So many questions no one can answer I’m alone in the dark with no escape.
I’m dead.
A Dead Tree Standing
The forest is gone, or maybe it was never there to begin with. A sapling stands, dead, its brittle yellow leaves scattered in the autumn breeze. And it hurts all the more for the knowledge that that tree was once a seed. And it hurts all the more that it could have been something. It could have filled the sky--but it didn't. It's dead now. And that's all there is.
That feeling
True disaster. Two minutes before midnight. An all dark room without any light or presence in it. It's only me looking at the vertical bar on my phone as my thoughts fade away. What was I going to say, I ask myself. Did I even know what I wanted to say. Did I even have any words left capable of describing that feeling. What feeling? [you'll ask]. That. Feeling. That undescribable fight your eye sockets have while trying to hold back the tears from falling down on your cheekbones. That feeling of recognizing your skin but not being able to move it nor feel the sheet underneath it. That feeling of breathing air only because you can't momentarily or physically suffocate. That feeling of wanting to take the whole diazepam tablet but throwing away that one pill you even had the courage to take out of the tablet. That feeling when you need to scream but have no voice left for it. That vain feeling that fills you with nothing but means everything to you. That unbearing feeling that you must feel to understand these words with which I try to describe it. That is the feeling I don't wish even my biggest enemy to ever feel.
Thundering Echoes of Silence
The gentleness of the rain does nothing to increase its warmth. The sky is leaden gray, and the gathering, though not large, is unnaturally quiet. The birds no longer sing in the trees, and the only sound is the pitter-patter of small cold raindrops, as they fall on black umbrellas and on the thin blue canvas stretched over the mound of dirt next to the hole.
One by one, single red roses are laid atop the little white casket. The rose petals are being stripped from the flowers by the rain, and as they tumble they leave thin red streaks down the sides of the tiny box that now holds a piece of my soul.
My heart now has a cavity that will never be filled, and I understand what real loss is, and a pain that no parent or grandparent should ever have to endure.
“The only thing harder to endure than the absence of your presence, is the enduring presence of your absence.”
-- Grandpa loves you little boy . . . forever.