I’m sorry to say
that you were wrong about me,
I’ll eat you alive.
I used to call myself a poet
a slinger of words, one who when cut,
would bleed ink blotted words
instead of blood.
With my mind in the clouds,
I gave life to the most simple words
making them dance across the page
as they would flow from my pen,
they were alive, I tell you,
speaking to the hearts and minds across
thousands of green mile markers,
never once stopping to hop over state lines.
I dreamt once too, oh yes,
how wonderful the world was behind
these closed lids, I saw this concrete city
explode with the most elegant of colors,
and I saw you, with your soil colored stare,
lighting a fiery passion deep within my chest.
But something happened,
and I wish I could find the words to describe
the emptiness I feel during these bleak
summer nights when the world goes quiet.
There is a growign darkness, pulsating and
breathing within me, threatening to consume me
from the inside out.
My whiskey filled nights are dead and gone,
and when I face the mirror, only a shadow
of myself remains, I struggle to find that
freckled face and painted skin I had grown to love,
but all I can see is a withered frame
slowly fading away.
So I once could make you swoon from the words
that fell so delicately from my lips,
but that girl is one who will cease to exist,
and those words will be all that is left of me.
The silence has come to an end,
the letters I have been searching for
visited me last night in my whiskey
induced slumber, and brought back the
spark of inspiration and carnivorous yearning
to place this pen between my cancer stained
fingers and pour my ink blotted heart onto
these tattered pages once more.
My absence from society, from reality
was nothing short of being labeled insanity.
But something strange happened last night
when my heavy lids were weighed down
by the gravity of heartache and longing,
at the bottom of this depression I finally found
the words I have been searching for all along.
It’s it odd, how the thoughts, the dreams, even
the nightmares can all swim together, cloud
our minds and sorting through them, writing them
out of your mind, transferring the suffering onto
pages, just seems impossible?
How the sheer thought of revisiting some of the
thoughts, memories, second thoughts, regrets,
all of them, just seems so exhausting, so dreary.
But there was this moment in my dream,
as if I was staring into the sun, it stung, burned
my eyes, but I couldn’t look away.
This blinding light, a realization, that wallowing in this
state of self-loathing, depression and misery,
had sucked the breath from my dry, cracked lips
and it wasn’t until this brilliant light captivated
my sight did I gasp for another breath,
and remembered what being alive truly meant.
And I can picture you now,
oh, how you will savor the sweetness
of my words as they hang moist and thick
on your tongue, you will spend hours combing
my words to feel the passion meticulously placed
behind each individual letter.
Because I’m more beautiful and full
of inspiration than ever before,
the silence is over, and baby,
I disappeared for what felt
like an eternity, but it was
more like a cluster of hours
where I escaped reality.
The powder had a bitter
and sour taste, it reminded
me of a cleaning product
of some sort when I squeezed
my eyes shut and winced.
Bleach. Yes, That was it.
I waited for the poisons to
take hold of me, imaged
how my wonderful mind will
teleport me to a different dimension,
perhaps one where you
still loved me.
My pupils grew to the size
of saucers, only a sheer line
of hazel remind in my sight,
my mouth dried out, so I
quenched it’s unsatisfiable
thirst with countless beers.
It was strange at first, but I began
to see things that I had overlooked
for so many years.
Life around me, everything,
the plants, trees, rocks, even the walls,
were breathing, they were all alive.
I could feel their inhale and exhale
all around my shuddering skin.
I saw you there, it felt like
a distant dream, you were far
off in the distance, standing under
that wild, dancing oak tree,
You smiled at me.
It all felt so real, but there was a
loud crackling sound,
I closed my eyes and waited.
When I peaked through my tight lids,
I was back in reality, back to this chair
outside on the porch.
Nothing was breathing around me,
the air was still, silent, and you,
well, you were no where to be found.
This reality just seems so dead to me.
Smoked, drank, counted
the minutes away,
drew shapes in the air with my finger
bled lines of poetry into my moleskin.
I dreamt the hours by,
counted all the stars in the sky,
I smashed the clocks on the floor
bent the arms to watch
the days flash by.
My breath was heat on the glass,
that’s when I knew I was still alive.
Until I forgot what I was waiting for.
This isn’t happiness.
I felt something new,
as if all of my senses
were wicks ignited
right at that very moment
he looked at me.
I smelt every sweet and
pungent aroma, I felt
the prickle of grass
between my toes,
I curled them up and felt
the crunch of soil,
I smiled for the first time
in years as I noticed
the different shades of
blue the sky could be.
I wish I could put those
strange strand of seconds
into more beautiful words,
but I’m not sure there are
words sweet enough to
describe the rapid
rhythm beating beneath
I felt different then,
like I tasted the spring
scents on my tongue
when I caught my breath.
I felt the warmth of the
sun brightening my cheeks,
I invited the breeze to
tousle my silken curls.
I felt brave, a sense of
courage flowing through
I wish I could create
words to describe how
he sparked something
deep inside of me.
I knew it was there,
I’ve felt this rising
tension bubbling under
my painted skin.
There’s no other way
to say how I feel,
but to tell you, the truth
for once in my life
I feel alive.