Category Archives: Pain

Looming Velocipede Know as Sister-yphus

woman-in-mirror

Full of doubt

Sitting,

Waiting with out.

The tears comfort themselves now

Because I’m always such a fool

For how words form

In that beautiful mouth.

I’m sodden now with

All the things you can’t with.

Even showers neglect to clean me

Before dusk falls on my thoughts.

My heart sings believe

My smart mind knows better

No matter how much your touch

Brings life back to my shatteredness.

Why,

Why rolling heavy losses up mountain tops,

As I wait for years of time to finally catch up.

Even I was unaware the torture

Would eventually turn on itself.

Nothing left of this field of sweet

smells, black top, and hopeless tires rolling as intended wanting to miss

the boulder set to meet me at sunset with only a man running the

opposite direction instead of

towards the helplessly lost.

Brace for impact.

Or not.

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Trying to remember it.

A funeral but for the things I have to tell myself sometimes to just breathe.

A eulogy for all the things turreted towards me I thought I could help, or fix, or get back on track but never did.

A pyre lit for all the potential I see in people that they never discovered of themselves burning with the oil made of the pain that has resulted because of this.

What do people do after this?

Lost broken hope,

Every bit deep enough inside themselves just hoping one day it’s a Pandora’s box with someone else opening it thousands of years away unleashing it’s empathy back into light.

If I had hope currently, I’d believe that but it must have gone in with the rest while I wasn’t paying attention. 

So I’ll just wait here. Because I’m tired of kind of always just holding it up anyway. I probably deserve a break. 

Fragment 9.404

The sweet bad boy fumbled,
So humbly in his over sized pink shirt,
Like his smaller frame was something to be ashamed of.
I, however, couldn’t resist the charm of his perfectly timed comment
About being an honest guy
And why he was asking me for
My order a second time.
I couldn’t help but oblige,
With my phone number in the nick of time-
Before my red hell beast roared with a tap of my toes.
As I laughed about my broken heart,
Looking for a distraction from being replaced by imagination.
Away I drove,
As if in screaming celebration.
Cackling almost at death itself-
With jubilant elation,
About the universe’s current
Preoccupation with every minute
Of my unforeseen serendipitous healing.
So a kiss I blew out the window,
As this soundtrack randomly began.

Man, does life have a wicked sense of humor,
I’m certainly starting to enjoy immensely.
Goodbye June for damn sure.
Even my imagination couldn’t have made such well timed splendor.
Xoxo

 

 

Fragment 8.001

Funerals every 120 days or less,

For 1890 days in a row-

Make it hard to smile.

But I do.

I will.

People just don’t understand,

Because they’ve never lived these tragedies

So many days,

Making sure to remember:

The bountifulness of living,

Of carrying on,

Of remembering the sun still rises.

And it still takes my breath away every time.

All of it most days now makes me wonder-

Who will I be on the other side of tragedy?

How many I meet, will remember this with me?

oxox

 

Penumbra Boulevard

dark_passenger_by_corporalphantom

Wrapping my favorite,

Gray and black rose cloak

Around my low hanging shoulders,

I hit he door way to another world again.

Heavy head,

Too heavy to understand.

Black hat,

Hiding only tired eyes.

I just let my hair be wild now.

I no longer care what the world has to say.

I let my eyes carry their sorrow and growing disdain.

One thousand, one hundred and twenty-five days.

A taste of salt that never strays.

Sleepless nights,

Dreams twisted and frayed-

Constantly choking me when I wake.

It’s four lanes whether

I’m barely breathing or burning alive.

Shedding that tread like each new skin.

Makes me wonder,

Which darkly named

Street corner shadow

Is following me now?”

Because I don’t even turn round to see.

I just know,

It’s never going to have me.

There are too many miles,

Full of beauty, life, destiny-

Just ahead of these gnarled, erratic, and decayed trees.

Words: M(e.)

Backstreet Healing: Corporal phantom 

 

Dissipation Apparition Relinquishing

alone_with_these_memories_by_littlemewhatever

I can’t believe she disappeared.

If it had been a fading,

It would be an easy pill to take.

But the memory replays everything you say,

Or said,

Like it’s still the same moment,

With a tired face,

That replaced the young one she used to see.

One song on repeat,

Too many times to sway

Fate to darken your door today-

O any new day.

And before you ask why,

Know the tears soaked too many of your musings

To see,

To clearly discern those yesterdays.

The faded, aged, and warped glass

Makes you seem even less

Kind and earnest than you were –

Like when you were so tender in all your ways.

Akin to a second skin of another man,

She would have never even spoken to.

And now all she can see is the stranger,

Not a single piece of who you used to be.

And aren’t those drifters ever so frightening

To such an unassuming thing-

You used to know she’d always be.

Which is why she slipped,

So very quietly away,

When your eyes were jaded

And you were looking the other way.

Her lips,  sealed tight-

Because what was there left to say,

Weren’t you just an outlander,

Last she checked anyway?

Words: M(e.)

Decamped Specter: littlemewhatever

Forlorn Fabrication Fusion: Justin Vernon – A Song for a Lover of Long Ago

Fevered Incubus Delirium

beautiful_nightmare_by_alicechanMaybe it is the chills,

The fever burning my body on and off.

Maybe it’s the sleeplessness,

And the tightness in my chest,

The inability to take more than a quarter breath.

Maybe it’s the  agonizing pain in my chest,

My over working oxygen starved heart.

The tinges that make me wonder if I’m going to survive.

All from running way more than anyone should while fighting to live through infection griping me tight as I fight the illness.

Now giving way to things I don’t want to think,

Like

The looping memory of me in the end days

So long ago – as I left your cruel, heartless, untidy mind behind.

Remembering myself in a den for more days than I care to grasp at now.

The dank darkness almost obliterating my ability to see,

Heightening even the smallest of sensations and turning them to deafening pin pings.

Yet, you still believe we should be friends because we are required by man’s law to speak with civility.

So, I’m cordial and enlightening in order to ignore the next treble phone ring ,

Somehow there you are right on time,

To continually torture me.

Vibrating me into hysterical day time nightmarish epiphanies.

I cringe because it’s you,

And roll back over because I just want to sleep.

Despite the memories that still haunt my dreams

Despite the mind’s supposed ability to solve it’s worst

Destinies, encountering-s, fallen fantasies

By systematically sorting them while I suspend this conscious waking reality.

You’re always like a side swipe accident with a car crushing  car and twisted irreparable steel in my mind.

And maybe the scars on flesh still ache

Every time it rains now matter how I attempt to

Place them as far away as possibility allows.

I just want the fever to break.

Or maybe every last stored recalling

Side dream gone to aging already.

Even a memory wiping machine I saw on a

Tv show once that dictated the daily thoughts

And lives of men based in only good memories

Until they accessed it’s deep web hard drive for truths

That left them unraveled and undone.

And like the man at the end,

I’d just cut mine out.

Words: M(e.)

Captured Phantasm: Alicechan

The soundtrack of the forwarded telephone ring-