Forgetting Never Soothes

This empty soul
That I call my own
This one that wants to be free.
The one that wants to
Leave the ground and grow wings.

This empty soul
That wants to feel
But in denial rejected his love
And after a time
Forgot it all

This empty soul
That burns like a brand
forgetting never soothes the pain
Its hanging there
Just out of reach, again.

This empty soul
It´s froze like ice
Fears the tear that´d melt its core
It fears because
It´s happened before

This empty soul
That shakes in fear
Scared, alone, and in the dark
Secretly longing for
Some infintesimal spark

This empty soul
That yearns to climb
Higher than the mountain peaks
But fears the wind
Bars what it seeks

This empty soul
That wants to leap
Off the cliff of broken dreams
But fears the world
Will hear its screams

This empty soul
That wants to lie
Alone in its insanity
But fears the end in
Beguiled humanity.

Life as it Was

The floodgates are open

And I can no longer hide

From the wave of consequence

The eyes that I´d shut

Beyond my will have been opened

This heart once numbed now screams in pain

And when I ran I hadn’t known

This circle I´d begun

Would end up at the beginning again

Tried to drown my spirituality with things

But those will fade away

Leaving bare the bones of what once was.

Now the demons torment me

In their clutches they have me

Is my life, as it was, now gone forever…?

Slipping

Scenarios... we sometimes use them. Dont go judging my mind by what I´ve written. I try to see into other minds... pull out what I find... And weave it into words. Here is one result - "Slipping"

The lights are dim, the night so grim

Left behind from what once was

Soul torn till tears seem to beautifully glow

Slipping…

Fly away, they call me,

Hither and thither, quiet haunting

Pills and blades have paved the road

Slipping…

Dripping life, dropping knife

Terrified screams, tardy hesitations

Oh mummy, oh daddy, forgive me

Slipping…

Beautiful pain, remorse behind

Craving the bright light all while

Smothering evil darkens eyes, so bleary

Slipping…

Too late, too late, love so lost

Returns to glimpse the final breath

Agony, cries, heart wrenching screams

Slipping…

He rises, cries burn the throat

Never has loss seemed so eternal

Bullet carves the path to dreams

Slipping…

My 2 me´s...

My two me´s.
They´re both inside
The wrong and the terribly right.

My two me´s.
Both completely true
Seen by many or just a few.

My two me´s.
Fighting inside me.
The dark making the light flee.

My two me´s.
Trapped together now;
Neither being the one to bow.

My two me´s.
Crying just to be
Tired of hiding what is simply me.

My two me´s.
Dying for respite
Begging rest from all this fight.

My two me´s.
Evil hideously mine
Feeling light fleetingly fine

My two me´s.
Never again to doubt
Evil´s hand moving me to shout

My two me´s
All this world will give
Left me but half a life to live.

The Six Toenails - Parody to the Six Cookies

I once had six toenails on my feet - yea, mock me not, for I had six toes. These toenails have dear hidden tales to tell, i kidd you not. And they are very dear to me (yea, for they are my toenails).

The first toenail, yes, even the very FIRST toenail I ever possessed (grown with much care and love upon the very first toe I ever possessed... yes they grew one at a time) was a good toenail. It grew in the love and admonition of the Lord, with great fear and trembling lest it be chopped for ill behavior. I cannot say this toenail tasted very good for I never tasted it. Amen. But one day, this toenail betrayed and left me, and with great pain and anguish I watched it prise itself off my sole toe and walk away. (To my great astonishment. I´m still baffled as to how it walked without feet) I still love this toenail very dearly (for it was my very first toenail) though I do not know where it is.

Then there was my second toenail. Oh what joy and happiness it brought me, just to sit and look at it (though to crane my neck like such gave me such cramps that I couldnt partake of this particular activity all that often) But soon it became hard and calloused and decided to fall off. I still dearly love this toenail too, but it does not love me. For it is hard and calloused (it blames me, somehow) Tongues and weeping.

Then there was my third toenail. Oh what a gallant and noble toenail this was, chivalrous and deedful in many deeds. But it, one day, decided that it did not like being a toenail, and began to chip and flake, and ended up pretending it was a croissant instead.

Then the fourth. This toenail was exceptional for it was my largest. But this toenail was not content with its size. It wanted to be bigger. So it compelled itself to grow and grow, until it grew so large that it pulled off my toe (the reason I have but five toes on my left foot to this day) and bashed me over the head with it, leaving a big bruise.

That brings me to my fifth toenail. This toenail was wonderfully shaped. How rounded... how smooth!! I never touched this toenail but I knew it was wonderfully wonderful. But like all good things, this one wasnt mine forever. It retained its smooth roundness though, and all though it had to fall off and go elsewhere, I know it´s not gotten hard or calloused, and its not pretending to be a croissant. It´s still my toenail.

And lastly, my sixth toenail. This toenail is STILL with me to this day (The one and only that I have left) And as I sit and gaze at its wonderful toenail-ness (yea, for indeed it IS a toenail) I marvel at its wonderful commitment to my toe and, most of all, to myself. It DOES question, now and again, and wonder whether it is actually cut out to be a toenail, and whether it should go be a croissant, or even more so, a baguette, instead. But deep down inside its tiney little core, it knows where its true place lies. And that is, on my very own toe.