poetic musings

family i can’t claim i know, friends i can hardly claim at all.

as if the world is silently but rapidly creeping past while i,

a steady, concrete pole cemented deep into the cruel earth,

stay in place, no room to move, myself & surrounding ground.

curiosity of whether they hear the silent longing for connection,

the desperate grasp for their understanding without words;

a life i wish i could instead live with support i wish i had to give.

full of wicked ghosts and goblins no more

looking in the mirror scares me still, though

for i do not see that it’s me in there

the reflection of a forgotten soul

each like none before it, as unique as a flake of snow

stenciled out ideas slowly brought to life, imagining

poetry, to me, is like if our souls could somehow sing;

a beauty unseen, a thing of it that only readers will know

its beauty beginning to turn crimson as the day closes.

ne’er a sight so graceful in the world had been seen before,

the pale moonlight striking the bloom now dust & no more;

the cruel inevitability of a death cycle given to the most elegant red roses.

befitting of the shadow

known for his mighty game

slowly he seeped far into her

filling her with his smoky tendrils

his nature so apparently stellar

he rips out her past pains

& undoes the raveling of webs

long-forgotten, left to the dust grains

she begins to breathe easy again

as he has made room inside of her

her soul light with the weightless space

& she began to weep in the light, the bliss

while he remained playing in her shadows

he asks “what could be more holy than this?”

he aptly kept his name from her all this time,

she seldom wondered it, thinking herself free

naively thinking he had his reasons & rhymes

with her shadows he began to build anew

not a warm, light abode as context implied…

he did not want for her soul to be pure or true

he begins to mold his beautiful weapon

a creation of her pain, trauma & sorrows

& so begins his plan to shred her open

still breathless, living in peace

she feels his presence once more

& lets him in, expecting more release

she starts to remember him; vaguely, slowly

as her insides start to burn hot & smolder

now she remembers - he is anything but holy

he fills her soul with shadows once again

different, worse, darker than the ones he took

& delights in the cries of her excruciating pain

she can see it in his eyes now, see his game

not a patron saint of peace as she thought,

true peace was pain & cruelty was his name

to be conquered, internally embraced.

entirely yours & enthralled, my safe harbor,

the passion in me that you ignite,

all while you render me obsolete.

deep down inside rages a feud,

& as you fight the shadows, i begin to flourish.

the darkness begins to decay, my troubles perish.

freed by you from myself, the oppressor,

what, pray tell, is this lesson?

for the absence of numbness brings forth

a fertile light to exist within,

not a bruise left on my soul,

to you i fully surrender control.

how remarkable your existence is,

what a spirit to have found as you roam.

when i felt our energies collide,

it was as if the constellations had spelled it out -

no longer a soul comprised of a garden of ghosts,

no more echoes of rattling bones.

due to you, i am full of a beautiful symphony,

lacking in even a moment’s silence.

i’ll be yours forever & always, to the grave,

as yours as can be, naked in my humility.

i am but a weary soldier of my soul fighting an undying civil war of wit inside of my own mind, where knives born of common sense are constantly being deployed against personalized swords of weaponized incompetence.

try as i might, i am unable to keep the blades from slashing everything within; without intervention, i’ll soon be nothing more than a carapace of my trauma shred open for everyone to see - no longer the person previously recognized as me.

the crossing of two souls;

a merging so heaven-sent,

bliss filling empty bowls.

steady in the face of trial

as tribulations come & go.

understanding in a vial,

the lovers always know.

chaotic, exciting & fresh,

worthy of ballads & novels.

a union so karmically blessed,

god himself weeps & grovels.

just some cogs in a machine,

that’s what they desire us to be.

to take that spirit out of yourself,

& forget all of what it is to be free.

pour into capitalism your heart & soul,

expending the entirety of your wealth.

forced to dig yourself a deeper hole,

unable to tend to your own health.

fed an agenda of sinister intentions,

wrapped in the guise of an end to a hell.

warning: if you wish to do anything about it,

you’d better make damned sure you do it well.

not so well that you’re a perceived threat,

nor so efficiently that you’re overlooked.

just well enough to rid us of them all,

the villains in our history books.

so i could memorize the lines of your face

the way you breathe, the way you laugh

the things that make you you

i wish you were here now

so i can remember you when you’re gone

yin & yang

you found me

& fused us together again

if the past has disgraced you

& lost its virtue