a persons darkest day

Remembrance


For the first time in a long while, i closed my eyes
and i had dreamt again last night


It came to me slow and haunting
a shiver up my spine, the dream i mean
i could feel the bone-chilling touch of the shadows
slithering up my body to strangle my neck
choking me, stealng away my breath,
raping once again what was mine it seems


i hear his voice, laughing, always laughing
and that damned smirk on his face, i try to move my 5 year old body
but i'm bound down by pink threads still with bits
of his semon and my blood stained on them


i try to curl into myself but when i look up into the lustful gaze of the monster
with growing dread, i cry and scream; those in the next room
i try to reach out to them, my throat sore, my voice wavering
reluctantly i lower my outstreched arm...and...


for the first time in a l ong while, i closed my eyes
and i had dreamt again last night


my crys fall on deaf ears, they won't save me
dep inside my mind i am raging the thought
leaves a bitter taste in my mouth,

i force myself to escape this reality
my 5 year old body grows tired from fighting
my little legs and arms aching, as he plunges deeper and deeper

it doesn't come as a shock, this familiar pain is a normality
i try to open my eyes and put an end to this nightmare,
but i can't break free even if i wake to the land of the living,
i cannot escape from this hell for the memories
are still there, even withmy eyes wide open
and i know i'll never be free, i'm forever locked behind these bars
of this cold, lonesome prinson cell


i lay my body down. close my eyes to weep and...
for the first time in a long while,
i closed my eyes and i had dreamt again last night...

Devils from within...

They were stuck in a frightening situation,
Feared by their thoughts and shadows of themselves...
Stirred mind walking in great passion...
Demons of hell, shouting thy name,
"Hail the master of evil!"
They scream until they get insane...
 
They were like vampires, craving for the blood of the master evil...
They suck, they crave and they sip for they thirst...
They tried to unleash their burdens...
They tried to unshackle themselves but they failed to conquer the thoughts of hell...
As they wipe the pain of hatred and deceive the people of the master were killed
by the devils from within....

COBWEBS


Final point in insanity

Cannot leave, cannot be free

No matter how much I scream,

No one hears me,

No one listens,

Caught up in a cobweb of lies

So twisted with the truth

Then I loved you,

Now I don't


I said I would love you to the end,

Here I am locked up so as to pretend,

All was well and good

Only you were misunderstood


I am looking at my hoodie

They left the string in

So goodbye to you

Maybe we will meet in hell,

Which I already know very well

It was you who brought me

To this cobwebbed bedlam

From a home of agony,

You have brought me to desperation

Goodbye my love, you will be free.

        <         >





           - - -

♥ ஜ Alone ஜ ♥
Alone in this little corner
    Of your lost demented world.
Do you remember me
    As I remember you?
In another time, another place
    We watched the fading of the horizon.
With a deafening howl of lost souls
    Through winding screams.

On a powdered breeze
    Of diminished lines.
A reminder of white laughter
    Amongst blackened days.
A sky ablaze with lightning sighs
    And static tears from empty eyes.
Full of discarded promises
    In a land of twisted dreams.

A mesh of shadows
    Reach across the skies.
I sit alone
    Waiting for one small glimmer
Of your silent return.
    A comfort of abundant fear
Washes over my weary bones
    Leaving a blue haze of darkened ashes.

As the blackened tears
    Flow from these wicked eyes.
A mournful soul plants seeds
    Of Velvet Black Roses.
They sprout and bloom
    In a pool of blackened sin.
Only to wilt and die
    In a brimstone fire.....

I find comfort in my misery,
Like the dog that refuses to sleep in it's box,
Despite the crunch of frost,
Despite the chill that licks it's face.
A connoissuer of sorrows,
I befriend the sick, the dying, the disturbed,
In the frost, I shiver in silent rage,
I am reminded of yesterday,
the scent of you exhausted the air around me,
It's not only the chill numbs my face.
As the sun rises,
the dog rises,
another night well spent,
I climb into my box,
Now I can sleep...

Never
ever
ever
never.

Don't Pretend.

You have no way of knowing
what the view is like from here.
Down the barrel of this pistol,
I swear I'm seeing clear.

You hate me for me,
the most honest thing you've done.
Now we can lie about the end,
I'll pretend you haven't won.

I've given up inside,
but I'm pretending to be strong.
Like when we were little,
begging only to be tall.

Now I'm begging for apologies,
and you're pretending it's a joke.
But dear, this game is over....
Now you must play alone.

The Irony in Finishing What You Ended Anyway.

“I used to be dark,
if you’d met me,
you’d know.

It was no act,
but reality.
You all watched the show.

Pills filled my room,
blades smelling like rust,
with the essence of smoke.

Bloody kisses on my arm,
and you sat around,
‘cause you thought it was a joke.

I had dreamed that you’d help,
or perhaps even notice,
I was losing my fight.

Well, it seems I lost.
Because I hit the bottom,
in my pointless life.

Here’s all that’s left,
just my bloody note.”

The mother read aloud,
"That's all she wrote."

Pretty Girl-

I was that dancing, blushing child, picture-perfect shrub,
And in an instant acquired lashings of my grandfather's love.
We called him Pup, his liver-spotted, somewhat balding mind,
blended trickles of the fantasia I never left behind.
 
He'd wet my cheek with kisses that soon would fall to my hand,
and ate by the coal, in his sweater-vests that no heating could withstand.
The red lights of his little car meant danger more so than his breaking,
Which meant until very close to now our whole family was mistaken.
 
He'd call me his little "pretty girl", from 3 to 9 to 13,
and every time I’d take for granted the close and far between.
Pup would arrive without a doubt sooner than I’d arrived,
that's why his Sunday papers were always all that ever survived.
 
I'd seen it in the pastel colours that defined his later days,
the nurses and the cleaners that didn't appreciate what he says.
I remember still that phone call that really brought my eyes to brim,
and it wasn't that of fatality yet, just the utter lack of him.
 
To see him slip into the soil, as light-rain paved the bed,
left little thought other than that of the dementia in his head.
I could see his headstone sitting and wondered why it had missed,
"She'll miss you, yes, that pretty girl. The one you always kissed".

*(I feel a little like I'm exploiting one of the hardest poems I've had to write, so I please if anything read it; you don't have to like it at all).

The Ghost Of Winter Passed


when you wake up in the morning
and find a dead body
where your friend used to be
there is no silver lining visible
or faint light at the end of any tunnel

all that remains is cold remains
and no amount of tears or flowers
will bring back the dead
or help you forget what his father said

so you decide to strap his ghost to your back
and get to thinking that excessive drinking
will dull the din and ease the mind
but you can never leave his ghost behind
while you are judge jury and executioner

Life Support

On life support
They told me
But she was with me
In my mind, my memory

She was with me
In my darkest hour
When I was almost killed
By her husband, my beloved daddy
Who loved to use his fists

When I lost my baby
When I was left at the door
Of the old clap board cabin
She was my life support
Who stood by me in silence

The cab took hours
Driver hoo-humming in the jam
An accident, a pile up
The windows were unclear
My eyes had misted
It was a long road to perdition

She was on life support
They told me
But not anymore
I just saw walls of cool white
Averted eyes, the sympathetic smiles
The hesitant touches

I saw her husk
She had departed
For places unknown
Wails and lamentations
Washed over me
As I silently said farewell
To my life support, my mother.

He remembers the exact position of the hands on his watch when she ushered him into the bedroom face aglow,hands trembling
with the effort of not blurting it out.she grabbed both his hands
and whispered "You're a Daddy".

The joy that built up for months is now replaced with a loathing when he casts a sideways look at the bulge containing the death warrant for his wife.

He curses himself and eyes the morphine on the shelf, briefly entertaining the thought of all three leaving that place together  staying as one forever.  

She is lost in thoughts of giving herself away proud as could be that she can make the ultimate sacrifice and is only saddened by the look of desperation in the eyes of her lover.

His thoughts are taken with pounding his fists against the face of the man standing just outside the entrance to the ward. "call yourself a doctor"


Choose a life for a life? A stranger for a wife?

God help him he'd strangle the breath out of it quicker than name it.