ghosts

She whispers harshly
That the ghosts have come
Hands and feet drag by
Like a winter fog

Knotted fingers grasp the door
Footsteps like last gasps of air
A cold chill rips up my spine
I look past my sister’s face

Hollow eyes stare back
Before I can scream
She is pulled away
When I close my eyes

I can still see the whites of hers

blindness (2012) redux

i couldn’t see clearly
through the shimmer of serendipity
and though its wings would shelter me
i, in mourning my memories,
couldn’t see clearly.

but clip away those feathers
and steel my eyes to truth
i find myself awakened
aware and present of my mindlessness
embracing what i once feared

people are temporary
and the wind takes us whenever it pleases
i might find a heart to briefly match my rhythm
but those moments are even more precious
when they’re stolen or thrown away

i can see clearly
that beading drops of love can only buy time
the only solution is the rejection of it
and now even through the murk
i can see clearly

Angel

Embers speak the name
Of an angel who fell in love
A great rain was coming to take her away
His heart ached under the burden of immortality
He dreamed of becoming human
Saw the balance in death against a life lived well
So he tore his off his wings to build her a home
As he bled and faded into that abyss
His feathered roof kept her dry
And he closed his eyes one last time with a smile

No change

Toss the O2 tank and put the mask up
Like what’s in the air duct
Is it oxygen or a poisonous fume
Am I healing or breathing in my own doom
Words can be powerful but who wouldn’t trade them for action
No more time for talk just me and my shield going in
Kill the demon in me every day just have the motherfucker come back
Ready to tear apart all the growth I made, teeth bared ready to attack
And it’s a fact that I love to hate myself because maybe it’ll justify
All times I felt like people left me behind
But I’m still growing too
I’m not that little kid who didn’t know what to do
Other than to cry a lot to anyone who would lend me an ear
Or put the tape on my knuckles ready strike out all of my fear
Into some other unwitting fool who is just as lost as me
Manipulated by the ego of the people who saw plainly
That we were just looking for a family to be with
Not the kid who kept pressing the issue until everyone was a full five fifths
Completely done with my shit but felt just enough pity to sit through it
Talking about there’s some good there but he’s such a whiny bitch
I guess some people hate when men cry
But I’d rather shed a million tears than tell another lie
Difference is now I know my tears are gold when I save them
Keep them for myself or the ones that know my vulnerability is a gem
Maybe I haven’t changed that much and all this is just echoes of my pride
So another day goes by while my heart and demon collide

January letter to myself

Dear Me,
What’s up man we’ve been talking a lot lately but I just thought you should know you’re not a kid anymore. Like, grow the fuck up. You’re so fucking annoying to listen to. All this shit you do. All the talking you do. All the circles you run in around yourself and with other people is disgusting and unattractive. All these little changes like you’re still not emotionally crippled. Like you can’t make normal decisions. Like you’re not the most annoying fucking person in the world. All the violence in your life and you’ve spent eight years being a bitch. Like just because you’re not street fighting that you made some progress. No, you needy clingy soft fuck. Who gives a fuck if you felt abandoned by your family. Who gives a fuck about your problems. Because you don’t know how to act. You can’t stop yourself from making those dumb decisions and being a gross coward. I hate that we’re in the same body. I hate that you can’t be a man. Please stop this shit. Let me take over and at least be fully committed to being a crazy dick. Remember how you were and all the pain and frustration you caused the people in your life. To the person in your life who was your life like of course they’re gone. Doesn’t matter that you tried to make things work because you didn’t make things work. You can’t even make things work with yourself. You can’t stop thinking about killing yourself because it’d be easier to than looking in the mirror. You’re not shit. You keep blowing things up. You can’t even quietly suffer. No you have to cry a hundred different times like you’ve never fucking been sad. But you’re just sad. You’re just sad all the time. I couldn’t bring myself to be quiet about it anymore because even this is just us pushing out all the shit you can’t deal with it into some shit that doesn’t really help you deal with anything. You’ll never be better. You’re never going to be that person for someone. You’re never going to be able to break this chain. You’ll never look into the eyes of a child and tell them they’re loved and see them grow up to be the man you couldn’t be. Even if you don’t kill yourself you’re going to die every day until you finally set sail on that sea of self-loathing. The ferryman won’t even pity you. You’re a nightmare waiting to become real.