Overflowing drops of sadness

crash the grounds of reality

Waves of anger and frustration

soar through every vein

Camouflaging the numbness

wakens the frozen memories

Slowly losing the crack of a smile

shades of grey and black entwine

A living ghost I am, alone—

all that is left of you

I talk in my sleep when I’m wide awake

In limbo I reach out to you,

my anchor in the fog

Overflowing mourning bellows

shattering the reflection in the mirror

Staring into the depths of your selfishness

stirring the darkest hurricanes

Consuming prescriptions of self-hatred

scream at your tarnished soul

Slowly your existence forever fades

whirlwinds of chaos downpour into your loved ones

A living ghost I am, alone—

evidence of your life

I keep together with special effects

And all I want is to touch you,


my anchor in the fog

Overflowing rain of melancholy

drip into the silence of your grave

Crumbled walls are now at your feet

as clouds hang over your torn shadow

Dwelling into your perfectionism

dismantles your steel cage

Slowly your wishes become true

Your actions speak a thousand poems

than the words you spoke alive

A living ghost I am no more—

I’ll breathe for me and you

Laugh for me and you, love for me and you

But still, I want to hold you tight,


my anchor in the fog

B.M. – Non italics parts

K.A – Italic Part

Collaboration of Braeden Michaels & Kindra M. Austin

Poemsandparagraphs.wordpress.com

I enjoyed collaborating with Kindra. It was easy. Her writing is real, raw, and honest to the core. Check out her blog.

I scratched my itch

I packed my bags

I didn’t laugh

I couldn’t say a word

They were already said

I held in the jungle

I swallowed my confusion

I didn’t see the condition

I couldn’t see the barriers

They were already built

I walked away from the illusion

I quietly closed the door

I saw a new found path

They were always there

I just ignored them

****

Check out my new book!

Your deepest scars

don’t define who you are

Your deepest scars

walk away from the sunset

Your deepest scars

don’t stare into the light

Your deepest scars

hide behind the plum tree

Your deepest scars

don’t scream at the rage

Your deepest scars

have burnt everlasting edges

Your deepest scars

don’t speak in front of millions

Your deepest scars

never fade in the chapter

Your deepest scars

don’t disappear in the journey

Your deepest scars

shape your colorful soul

Your deepest scars

make you gorgeous

I saw vibrating rainbows draped over a slippery moon. I saw glitter on 20 x 20 frames. I could hear the grand piano playing in the deserted mountains. I saw a glimpse of red in the clouds of rage. I saw rivers of champagne. I witnessed sorrow hiding deep into the caves. I saw the sun bellow. I saw bouquets of silence seek Cupid’s harp. I fell into the well creeping behind the parade of jesters. I saw the edges of souls bleed tears of joy. I saw emptiness screech. I felt the warmth of diamond shaped hearts. I found a bottle of spilled ink and the words were never ending. I heard trumpets around the bend. I saw blank pages but words rattled and spoke like gospel. I discovered the path of humanity. I caressed the gentleness of others. I climbed into the vortex of raw emotions. I felt the infinite words in ink overflow within myself.


Condescending aficionado
speaks from a barbaric abyss
Staking claims and forecasts
reeking of gin and vermouth

He paws
He claws
Relentless and crude

Staring at her fishnet stalkings
waiting for her lipstick stains
delicious Coca Cola bottle curves
Inhaling her wicked scent

He probes
He pushes
Distasteful and off putting

Sucking in helium and lithium
personality rising higher than balloons
Viewing others as outcasts
engaging as a insidious vulture

He commands
He yells
Unforgiving and selfish

Demanding perverse declarations
Instilling superficial values
She crawls away from the blood hound
gazing at the sign of bittersweet crossroads

She kicks
She cries
Embracing the freedom

Direct and forward

A rabid salivating tongue

Deafening from silence

Gripping to the slick

and grapevine of truth

Lacking minimal patience

A vicious tightrope

Brash and Harsh

Invigorating sincerity

Zero fluctuation

Pledging to the straight arrow

The outspoken prophet

residing in a palace of lights

shimmering faith reverberates

Deteriorating eyesight

Cockeyed perception

Agitations foaming at the mouth

Removing the garbage

Calming the whispers

Torturing the roars

Sighing to the bee sting

Bleeding from the dry lips

Masking undertones

Streaming suspicions

Cutting the grapevines

Screaming murmurs

Bumbling suggestions leach

Rumors spread like a cold

Unsubstantiated truths

To care is to have patience

To appreciate you have to lose something

To love you have to treasure seconds

To forgive you have to be human

To grow you have to make mistakes

To be kind you have to listen

To be human you have to open up your heart

To gain perspective open up your eyes

To be ignorant close your ears

To be special just be yourself

To live is not to be afraid

To be alive you have to learn to feel

Writing with a light shade of pink

Paragraphs of wit and charm

Hallucinations of bitter love

Caught up in unknown webs

Burying summer flings and

hypnotic one night stands

Self inflicted wounds never sewn

The bookmark never leaves

this etched and engraved page

It’s the single page that altered

her perception of love and self

As I grabbed the notebook I cried hard. Words poured out:

Dear God,

I am suppose to believe in you. You took my Dad and I’m very mad at you. I don’t understand and why won’t Nathan cry? What is wrong with him? How could you do this to my mother? Is it possible for you to provide me answers soon?

As I was writing this my mom yelled up.

“Allie is at the door.”

I threw down the pen and wiped my tears. I went downstairs to let Allie in. She said my mom called her mom to tell her the news. I could tell she didn’t know what to say.

“Are you going to school tomorrow?”

“No I’m not going but will go sometime this week. My mom said there was lots to do. I don’t know what she wants me to do.”

“Did she tell you next weekend you and Nathan are staying with us?”

“No she didn’t.”

“It will be fun.”

“Allie Do you believe in God?”

“Yeah I do.”

“Why would God take my Dad?”

Allie just stared at me for a moment.

“I don’t know. I can’t really answer that. Is your notebook full yet? You said you would write something every day.”

“It’s almost full. I wrote something today.”

“What did you write today?”

“Today I wrote a letter to God. I’m hoping he will get it soon and write back.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well at church we are told to believe in him. I don’t think he gets mail in heaven. He doesn’t wait for mail. My mom always says things happen for a reason.”

“So are you saying God took my Dad for a reason?”

“I don’t think it’s that easy to explain Ben. He didn’t take him to cut grass in heaven.”

I didn’t understand what Allie was trying to say.

A few months had passed and everything appeared to be normal until a early Sunday morning. I woke up to the sound of my mother crying. I laid there in bed and it sounded like she was on the phone. It was barely seven in the morning and Nathan was passed out cold. I never heard her cry like that. It made me nervous. It was then that I saw the knob turn on my door and saw my mother wiping her tears away. I closed my eyes immediately and she sat on the bed. She placed her hand on my face and softly said my name. I opened them up and my mom was frozen.

“Ben I have some bad news.”

She stopped right there. She struggled to continue crying. It struck a nerve in my ten year old body. I could see she was in so much pain emotionally. I could see it at the age of ten. I begin to cry and felt my world was about to change in a drastic way.

“Ben your father was in a car accident and he didn’t make it.

I sobbed just as much as my mother. Nathan was still sound asleep. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How am I suppose to go on without my Dad? I was so mad. I was so angry inside. I sat up and hugged my mom for life. It was hard to believe that I would never see my father. My mom left the room to make us breakfast and I had to tell my brother. I woke him up and told him. He didn’t cry, he just looked at me.

“So Dad won’t ever come home?”

“No.”

“He was going to fix my bike. Ben who is going to fix it?”

I didn’t have an answer for him and was confused that he didn’t show any emotion. Our Dad isn’t here and all he could do is think about his bike. I didn’t get it. How can he not show any emotion?

It was a gloomy Sunday. My mom called everyone she knew to tell them. She was in tears all day on the phone. I walked around my house imagining my Dad not being here in the house anymore. No more playing football. No more car rides. No more wrestling. Something came over me as I walked around my house. I ran to my room and grabbed that notebook.

Unsettling analytics

Dispersed integers

Abrupt and chilling data

Between facts and information

Controlling emotions

Stepping on to Overthink drive

Distinct calculations

Business minds open

Fearful of making the “wrong”

and fateful decisions

Staring into Venn Diagrams

and Ghant charts

Sleeping beside project management

and waking up to “planning”

Spontaneity is two streets over

On this road it must be on a calendar

Crawling like a snail

Watching the hour glass

Staring at paint dry

on the curbside

Playing in the sandbox

Mesmerized by the fallen

rainbows and stardust

Absorbing every minute

Not one second is rushed

Pixels illuminate

Enhanced motions

Days inhaling weeks

Weeks serenading months

Smiling leaves dance

Rivers singing in harmony

Families at dinner tables

Time is a speck

Life is fully embraced

****

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