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I am only home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I moved away for a job and it’s been a journey since then. When I met my family my brother pointed something out that made him teary eyed. There were names of deceased family members on the tables. I saw my aunts name, my mothers, grandfathers, grandmothers, and my cousin. I looked around the room as tears fell from my eyes. My brother saw me and hugged me. Although we are very different in many aspects we are the same. We moved over to the corner of the room and told me how our mom would be so proud of me. In his own words he actually expressed how much he loved me and missed me. This is something he would do when he was drunk. He didn’t have an ounce of alcohol in him. Naturally I cried as he spoke. I saw my brother in a different light. A part of me moved away for a job and part of me moved away from my family. In my eyes, growing up and still today I feel misunderstood. I want to unravel all the feelings we all feel in my writing. I want to write from different perspectives. I told my brother the other day I have three published books. In my head I spend my time writing wanting to leave something behind, my legacy. Perhaps on the blog this is where I am understood. But my brother for once understood me. He could see parts of me that are broken. He could see why I write from other perspectives. It’s easier for me to write from other points of view because I have some pieces I don’t want to look at. He could clearly see I just didn’t move away for a job.

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I wallow in the paraphrases and the ick of December. Wintery trees remind me of childhood and what use to be. Today the misery and solitude linger in the brisk air. I no longer grasp and hold onto affection. I took a walk and could see my reflection in the mangled trees. Branches scattered like my frozen thoughts. I stand still as depression settles deeper. No one wants to stand from my perspective. I despise the winter and hollow chill. No one cares. I use to crave to feel. I stare into the paragraphs and emptiness flows. No one cares. I don’t ask why I am alive. I ask when will you take me out of my misery?

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I’ve offered you a ship and you offer me a canoe

I’ve offered you a dozen roses and you offer me a dandelion

Sadness is a trigger

I’ve offered you a plate of everything and you offer me a morsel

I’ve offered you a road and you offer me a unpaved narrow path

Sadness is a trigger

I’ve offered you a tree of gold and you offer me a stained branch

I’ve offered you a notebook and you offer me a page

Sadness is a trigger

I’ve offered you barrel of ink and you offer me a ballpoint pen

When I’m gone my written words will say it all

by on

Foolish and dumb I crumble

Stuck in a wrecking atmosphere

Drifting out of consciousness

Wishes fall beneath my feet

I can’t move

A jolt of discomfort shatters within

Starring at discolored fragments

Crying romance bellows forgiveness

Dropping rights and wrongs

I can’t move

Dying to be understood in tired eyes

All I absorb are tears and rain

wearing a chain of animosity

through a howling river

I can’t move anymore

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I’m alone and sleeping in the cavern

I’m alone and sleeping in the gloom

And never do I cry

I’m alone and sleeping in the dusk

I’m alone and sleeping in the morning

And never do I bleed

I’m alone and sleeping in the twilight

I’m alone and sleeping in my coffin

And never do I pray

I’m alone and sleeping in the screams

I’m alone and sleeping in the silence

And never do I laugh

I’m alone and sleeping in the scars

I’m alone and sleeping in the obscurity

And never do I change

by on

I use to languish in the polygon of my weeping mind

I thirst for the fragments of my anguish to mold my center

I use to sulk inside myself and drink the wine of selfishness

I sunk my teeth into the dejection

I use to dwell in the camouflage and sink in my words

I swam in the black river under the oppression

I use to neglect faith and drown in the empty tear ducts

I fell into the depths of silence

I use to grieve in the awaken sadness and never sleep

I felt the last breath deceive me

I use to shed my dead skin in the morning to erase the gloomy nights

I carried a chain of misery

I use to gasp at the hollowness and gazed at the autograph

I refused to stare at the nemesis

I saw the signature and found it revolting

A transformation within shouted

by on

Surrounded by the shrapnel

Six thousand reasons to fade

A service in your polite eyes

Ungrateful and dissatisfied

Watch me flip in rectangles for you

Continuing to give the minimum

Throwing me up against the brick

wall like a domino

As you never give me an inch

Counting the years one by one

Year 15 is the most critical one

Please read it again

I am just a provider and a dollar sign

Prove to me differently

by on


I was in my room shattered. I thought he loved me. I saw a vision of a life with a man who turned out to be a child. Not a boy but a child who ran away because he was terrified. He was scared of the word love. It became too real. He tarnished my soul. He took something away that I can’t put my finger on. I turned off the light and crawled underneath the covers. I couldn’t close my restless eyes. My world had crumbled. How can a man touch my skin the way he did and walk away? How can a man kiss these lips and walk away? It felt like I was on a roller coaster and I was no longer going up hill. It was all down hill and could feel the crashing of the silent wind echo. Although he may have thought he had broken me but as I said I’m shattered. It translates that I can pick up the pieces and put them back. No man will ever break me that I can’t get up.

by on

A pile of ancient bricks

stack up against the closet door

A lemon yellow sun hasn’t

heard the shrieks behind

the desolate window

Vanishing clowns snicker

in the obscure corner

Fears subside and twinkle

In the witching hour

the scarecrow yells from

the depths of childhood memories

A ministry of skeptics

preach under the queen size bed

Reciting a sacred testament

of abuse and lacerations

Sobbing whispers live behind

the wretched closet door

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by on

I’m caught between syndromes and prescriptions. I’m slipping in the separation of loneliness and sadness. I have fallen in the hands of broken angels and laughing demons. I can feel the down pouring melancholy fill up the emptiness. I sulk in the fields of depression beside wishes and painted dreams. I’m sitting in the middle of insomnia and awakened tear drops. I watched the clown die on the inside. I stood on the outside of the circus and saw the crowd. I will always be on the outside looking in. I’m surrounded by beliefs and stuck in oppression. I’ve dug a grave in my creativity. I wear sensitivity on my sleeve. I can’t remove if I tried. I want a blanket of love that’s never been made. I seek a yearn that doesn’t exist. You will feel the craving when I’m gone. You will be on the inside finally looking in. The puzzle will be complete. I don’t belong on this earth. I want to lay beside Dylan Thomas and Allen Ginsberg. Read between the lines.

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No verses can disguise

the barbwire truth

Furious on the inside

Depression settles like dust

A intact plan merges

Ignoring my needs

Methodical and analytical

Reread the chorus

Every day was an opportunity

you threw away to show me

Nothing will prepare you

for what I’m about to do….

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The stench will never disappear. I sit here in agony replaying the years in my head. I stare into the pitch black and contemplating the decisions that I have made in my colorful life. I was a jester. I have discarded all the useful cards in the deck only leaving myself with only a few to hold in my tired hands. I steer away from the root. I run away from the tears that refuse to see the sun. I was the fool in believing in the word forever. You took me for granted. I took you for granted. You didn’t have the ability to own up in your own mistakes. You chose to be stagnant. I thought I was the infant in this relationship. I took my vows seriously. My heart is full of mush, layers of sensitivity, and the cream you find in the center of a donut. I wanted more. I craved depth. I took responsibility of my actions. I stumbled away shapeless seeking the truth. I am a lost soul. All I can see is a twinkling light. I will find my way out. If there is one thing I do well it’s being persistent. Nobody will tell me I can’t do something.