Of broken locks and fallen branches

We let the voices in our head become deafening. They escape onto paper. TW: dark thoughts

In ponderance *
What will you do
When there’s nothing left to create
Nothing to share
No one to tell
Where will you go
When you are true to none
Nonexistent to all
Numb
Who will you trust
When all have abandoned
Never to seek
Never to return
Why will you stay
When reason has been erased
Nothing calls you
Nothing matters

Terminal Lucidity *
Lying here on a sterile bed
The white of the sheets matches my skin
Pale as when I came into this world
So will I leave it

Imagine such a horror upon your face
When you see me, running
Recalling my body, frail and paralyzed
Mere hours before

Something deceptively new
Has been injected into my bones
Granting me one last race
Enclosed in false hope

My family is beckoned to see me in last
Tears sparkle on their faces
They know this will end
Rest soon will follow

My sullen, aged frame
Is granted youth for one more hour
A fulfillment of my last wish
My will is not mine

This life slowly fades
I return to my bed
One more dream to enjoy
The hour is o’er

Breath leaves me
A farewell to life
My eyes are closed
Reminders of joy

Returned to dust
I am ash
I am
No more

Horror
A dreary autumn day
The gray sky fills your heart
With a comfortable suppression
You sit on the banks of a swamp
The drab grass matches your soul
You stare at your reflection in the murky water
An unrecognizable beats glares up at you
Underneath the water
Lie faces
Pale and waterlogged
Rotting eyes look at nothing
You know they look at nothing
But they seem to stare at you
Into your gray soul
Hands threaten to pull you under
To fill your lungs with warm water
Entranced, you dive
The water is thick, presumably with mud
You sink deeper into the muck
Hypnotic comfort washes over you
Only a faint alarm tells you of the pressure slowly building
Sinking , you watch the light from the surface fade
Your rope surfaces your drowning body
From the depths
Again.
But this time, you remove the red glasses
You realize
In horror
The water is blood
Dripping all over your clawed skin
You’ve emerged from a pool of blood
Of blood
Of blood.

10 miles for tomorrow
Driving through mountains
Black rubber meeting sun-bleached asphalt
Only to bid it farewell

The same pieces of rode, but different coordinates
You command the chariot
Hands at ten and two

This power at your fingertips;
Underneath your feet
You have all the capacities you need

You mount another peak
For a moment, your gaze moves down
It’s a long way down

And you remain in control
That’s what you think

Something bids you stop
You pull over, dismount
Walk to the ledge

There is no guardrail

Nothing is stopping you
Nothing is begging you
Just you and the cliff

Are you still a part of the equation?

The earth’s magnetism ensnares you
Your heart’s anion qualities are drawn
To the ground’s positive charge

Because opposites attract

The question remains:
Will you jump?

Of my own
They all have belongings
They all belong to themselves
They all belong to life
Is it selfish
To want something shared only with one?
They see me here
They never said I can’t
They know me as a friend
But she’s their first choice
Why does it have to be decided?
Thursdays are just as long
But they’re shorter
It’s still loud when it snows
But it sounds different
Why must I spend forever
Consuming myself with questions?
I wish I could safely
Be my own person
I can’t stop the lies
When they keep me alive
When will I realize
None of those things were meant for me

An understanding
I realized why they call it an illness
The diagnosis is more than terminal, somehow.
It will squeeze every ounce of life out of you.
Your mind feels indescribably sick
As you try to rationalize your thoughts and actions
The end will be unfathomable, but it will cease the suffering.
It constricts you not only mentally,
Strains the breath from your lungs
Morphs the beating of your heart,
Acidifies the very blood inside your veins
Everything feels like the sickly green hue of the sky preceding a tornado
You lose the capacity to exist within reality
You can no longer feel alive
But, unlike a cold, it will never fade.
It becomes the center of your life.



*This poem has some lexical or alphabetical pattern to look for.