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

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…

My trauma, my teacher

My trauma, my teacher, my motivational speaker, whisperer in my ear, most bias preacher,

Moulded in the harsh environments of life, blackened coal of pressure, suffering and strife,

My trauma, skilled sculptor, you have formed me in your image, with your patriarchal pressures, made part of thy lineage,

Talented builder, your walls hold firm in mind and heart, gatekeeper of vulnerability, your influence present from the start,

My trauma, heartless torturer, yet my best interests considered, cold and unforgiving, hands tied since the beginning

Hands tied since the beginning

The Game of Love is rough

Why do you make me relive the memory, you know how deep it cuts, am I the sucker for punishment, since I set myself up for the punch

Should I have just walked away from you and tried to heal my heart all alone, or should I do what I really want to do and just cut you right back to the bone

My blood runs cold through a heart of stone, everytime that I pick up your phone, I still can’t believe, you chose to deceive, while still telling me I was the one

But somewhere deep I still care for you, there’s a flame there that I can not snuff, you broke all the rules, made us both the fools, left us scrambling for tools trying to fix this,

Gave you all my love, still was not enough, guess the game of love tends to get rough, but I’m thankful too, when it comes to you, just keep showing me how to be tough

Photo by Timur Weber

All that remains…

More beautiful a curse is yet to be imagined, more painful a blessing is yet to be fathomed,

So tiny a trinket of most epic proportions, sweet words fall from her lips with underlying distortions,

When evil surrounds you and you feel you can not cope, all that remains is inside you, all that remains is hope.