Foot prints on the moon

Go quietly, go peacefully, leave your tiny foot prints on the moon.

Wait for me amongst heavenly bodies, where we will meet again soon.

Your journey has sadly ended and yet, it’s only just begun, in a moment I will close my eyes, one final time, and we’ll be together as one.

For this world did not deserve you and I fear neither did I, but this life feels like a hopeless void without my tiny special guy.

So wait for me and please don’t cry, mommy is on her way. It won’t be years, weeks or months, I will be with you today…

One final glass

One final glass of whiskey neat, I lie to myself as I repeat, so lonely in this crowded place, where souls come to surrender. Where the fight is done, the pretence of peace has become a house of splendor. Just a moment’s peace in chaotic surrounding, for the morning after, my head starts pounding, so just one more please, so I may release what weights heavy on my heart.

For my days are spent in concentration, on tasks for which I have no patience, how I wish I could do just what I loved, instead I’m here beneath your thumb, my body and soul don’t move as one, I dread the person I’ve become, so one more glass until I’m done, just one more glass to leave me numb.

By now you can tell that I’m lying, to empty the bottle is what I’m trying, so fill my cup and hold the ice, you’ve filled it once, now fill it twice, pour one for every morbid soul that frequents your house with sordid goals, to numb their pain is all they’re trying, such a lively house filled with the dying.

The drinking man…

The lonely road

Imprints in the ashes, barefoot I walk this road, cut deep in my shoulders, as it try to bear this load, prayed for a cool breeze, then what I got was snow, asked for warmer days, and found desert sand below,

This road is unforgiving, it will make you not forget, every blister a cruel memory, every cut a deep regret, the more you try to fight it, with more resistance you’re met,

With every lonely step I take, more blood runs down my back, lashes from the ones I love, they won’t cut me some slack, I stop, I pause, I turn around, this road is just too rough, I drop this weight off from my back, I feel I’ve had enough…

Photo by Lydia

Intrusive thoughts…

Thoughts of death lately seem to fill my mind, clock watching for gate keepers occupies my time, dark thoughts so suffocating, swallowing the shine, sadness behind the biggest smiles, standard answer, I’m fine,

It’s my choice to suffer in silence, all who care have tried their best, carry the world upon my shoulders, yet can’t seem to lift this weight upon my chest, well put together on the surface, yet beneath I am a mess, the long sleep grows more appealing, if I may, I must confess,

Do more, say less, pats on the back, they’re so impressed, always giving and giving has left me stressed, all these expectations of my best have left me without rest, as I spiral through a hornets nest of intrusive thoughts I can’t digest, but I’m needed so I must digress, your love is the only reason all hope hasn’t died yet…

Photo by MART PRODUCTION

Betrayed…

Empty, hollow, a never ending void, the way you left me feeling when you left my heart destroyed,

Shattered, broken, a mere shell of a man, your actions were so ruthless I simply could not understand,

Lost, anxious, hopelessly depressed, questioning my worth because I gave you nothing but my best,

Shocked, confused, where’s my self respect? I invited all this pain when I accepted this neglect

Photo by cottonbro studio

Solace in Solitude

Should you seek me, you would find me all alone inside my cave, to my thoughts there, I am enslaved, but where the solitude is my comfort, I have stayed,

Far away from the eyes of judgement, except that of my own accord, a dark place inside my mind, filled with pain that I have stored,

I grow quieter and quieter, I have left this world behind, I am willingly in a prison, a prison crafted in my mind,

A dark place, a cold place, where all trauma seems to echo, old wounds are hard to let go, but in my head I’ve made my bed though and I’ll have bled until I’m dead but still I can’t let them know…

The Broken man

Quiet Friday afternoon, the sun will sure be setting soon, ground floor of a cheap motel, an empty man that’s just a shell

Car broke down, it’s somewhere stuck, a broken man down on his luck, all his life a punching bag, discarded like a torn up rag

Trying just to numb the pain, a loaded needle to a vein, he knows it’s not the way to deal, he just can’t cope with how he feels

Turns off the lights and goes to bed, demons dancing through his head, eyes shut he begins to pray, tomorrow brings a better day

Photo by JESSICA TICOZZELLI