Desperation

Dreary and frantic,
Endless in nature.
Suicide a possibility.
Eternally begging for a reprieve.
Alone, tortured, isolated.
Only remaining to feel the
Never-ending pain.

Hell

Haven for those emptied of remorse and shame.
Left alone to live a life of damnation.

Selfess

Searching endlessly for my purpose in life.
Forever lost in my dreams, alone.
Except for my existence,
My sense of identity seems surreal.

A Few Excerpts From My Mind (From Darker Times In My Life)

Fortress

I have built a fortress for myself,
To protect me from harm.
Years it has taken to erect.
Each day added yet one more brick.
Until now.

And now I can no longer see each sunrise and sunset,
Or the dreams that should have been in my mind.

All that I can see are the illusions.
Illusions of faces that have tried to scale the walls.
Trying to penetrate the mortar that binds each brick to another.

Promises of trust and love cannot serve as footholds,
For too many times they have broken beneath the climber's arch,
Just as their promises have.

I wait patiently on the cool, darkly shaded side of the walls.
Waiting no more for promises which will be broken.

Instead, I await the warm, brilliant sunlight of genuine trust and love
To show me that there is life and a world full of dreams
Beyond the walls of my fortress.

Flying Cows and Other Atrocities

A flying cow I saw the other day,
I turned to look and he flew away.
I rushed into town to tell Mrs. Cory,
She only scoffed at such a story.
I went to the schoolyard to convince the kids,
They told the teacher, “This kid’s flipped his lid.”
I sulked on the street on the way to my house,
When there appeared this time a flying mouse.
And trailing behind him, before my own brow,
Was the previously sighted flying cow.
Into my yard I strolled, quite amazed,
Surely I appeared more than just dazed.
There mother sat upon her throne,
My look must have said “Leave me alone.”
She asked where I’d been? How was my day?
I could hardly manage to turn my head away.
She asked did I by chance spot a flying cow.
I looked at her astonished, she knew, but how?
As a child, she said, she saw it too.
I no longer thought of myself as cuckoo.
I don’t know that the truth is what we shared,
But I remember knowing for sure that mother really cared.

Borderlines

Battered lives
Overthrown by the reality that no one dared to love them.
Empty and reclusive,
Living lives of inescapable pain.
Never finding the warm, embracing comfort of another soul,
Except in one like theirs.

Isolation

In my cave, alone,
And solitude no longer covers or heals these wounds.
They remain open, bleeding profusely.
But no one can see the loneliness I feel,
And no one can penetrate my defensive posture.
For I have learned well the lesson of being kicked when you’re down.
I remain enclosed in my cocoon of anger,
Keeping all possible help at bay.
No one can do any more than they have for or to me.