Once upon a midnight dreary
Wash it Away

I can’t seem to recall the last
moment that I felt this way,
so completely numb.
It’s as if the air has been sucked
from my dry lips, and the warmth
drained from my tired heart.

There is something that has changed,
maybe it’s in the stale winter breeze,
the one that tangles and tousles my
soil colored locks, it’s a distant
sensation, the same feeling that
I get when I wake up from a dream
feeling as if I’m missing something.
And my day becomes a cluster of hours
tangled in my sheets, searching my mind
and crying the most beautiful tears,
for something I can not even remember
or forget at the same time.

My memories are escaping me as well,
and it takes a while for me to notice,
it’s not until I try to remember the taste
of your kiss, or the dimple on your right
cheek, the one I used to become mesmerized
over when we would lay in bed and
whisper secrets until the sun bled orange
and yellow hues over our painted bodies.

But those days have gone and as much as
I’ve tried to hold on to those memories,
squeezing my eyes shut, begging my mind
to at least leave me with the pleasure of
remembering how I was once so happy
and in love, but time has a way of erasing
even the most precious of moments, and
I accept that one day, I will barely be able
to remember your name.

And here I am, struggling to fill the expanding
empty void buried deep within my chest,
watching the rain fall in relentless sheets as it
plays a symphony against my window,
and all I can do is wish that this storm could
wash away the numbness in my heart.

It’s too late

There are so many wonderful
words, dreams, and thoughts
swimming through the turbulent
waters of my mind,
but sadly, the gripping fingers
of my depression are beginning
to take a tight hold on my life.

Sometimes I sleep for days,
tossing and turning, tangled
in the cold and lonely linens.
But most nights I stay awake
until the burning sun rises again,
bringing another empty day,
just one more strand of miserable
hours without you here.

I want to write,
I romanticize each day
where I can crawl out of bed,
escape these cotton monsters,
and feel the warmth of these
autumn days on my painted skin.
But to be honest, the furthest
I ever make it is the front porch, to
smoke the sadness from my lungs
with the cancer turning my fingers
a sickly shade of yellow.
Or maybe to the kitchen to pour
another glass of that Tennessee poison
to drown the empty void
from my tired and rotted heart.

I’ve become numb,
absent from my own body and soul.
I know you can see me,
but I’ve disappeared to the
darkest corner of my own tortured mind.

It’s too late,
you can’t save me now.

I hope you’re happy

I sat outside while the
darkness swallowed the
air around me, and
silently thumbed the
cancer balancing between
my stained yellow fingers.
I watched the fiery ember
flicker while the grey wisps
of smoke danced towards
the thick, rolling clouds.

I sat there alone.
What a strange
and frightening word.
I can feel this empty sense
of nothingness expanding
between my ribs, the way
I gasp for gusts of poisoned air,
and desperately gulp the bitter,
oaky liquids to quiet the noise
in my beautiful mind,
I want to feel numb.

I feel the rising sensation of tears,
but force my lids to act as barriers,
I close my eyes and whisper,
"I’m stronger than this."
But the truth is, I wanted so much more,
I cracked open these ribs, exposed
my weak and rotting heart,
explained all the stories behind
my magnificently painted skin,
I whispered my secrets to you
and the rising sun after countless
nights of kissing whiskey bottles,
but it was never enough.

I admitted that I was scared,
hell, I was frightened, and you promised,
crossed your heart so many times,
that I would never be alone.

But here I sit, with only the
darkness, my cancer and the
Tennessee poisons left to keep
me company at night.

I hope you’re happy.

Numb nights (Haiku)

The bottle is gone,
my thoughts are just as empty,
tonight I am numb.

Pretty Little Pill-Popper

My eye lids are heavy, but in a
new way, I haven’t felt this before,
as if weights were tied to my lashes
and I struggle, even whisper to
my eyes to fight through this
pain of exhaustion and defeat.

There’s a pounding in my temple
a screaming in my mind, but I’m
too frightened to close my eyes,
terrified I’ll wake up on the other
side, the unknown darkness that
haunts me, lurking behind corners.

Take another pill.
These white, chalky friends of
mine, new found lovers that dance
in my mouth, tickle my tongue
and glide down my throat with a
swig of what ever type of liquid
I can get my greedy claws on.

Wait, I have claws now?
It must be my new friends speaking
for me, they are sneaky, and I can
hear them, the sweet innocent
voices lulling me to sleep.
My arms feel as if the bones have
been removed, and I can feel my
heart beat in my throat, I’m falling
into a deep slumber on a bed made
of feathers, but I haven’t seen a bird
in years.

I fight back screams and tears,
but I’m numb, I can’t feel a thing,
the only thing I wan tot do is
choke another pill down
to relieve the pain and forget your face.