The darkest night

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I lay here in my final moments wonderings why I did the things I did. Wishing I had just one more moment to tell my parents this: I'm sorry I couldn't be the daughter you wanted, to always going out to parties instead of spending the time with you. Please don't be ashamed of me and remember all the good times we had. I'm sorry; I love you.
    Now, my blood is all around me as I try so hard not to cry. I can hear the paramedics in the distance, saying its a shame this girl is going to die. I close my eyes and wonder what it would have been like if I had tried a little harder, tried to regain the light. Now, it's almost over; the darkness is fading in. What will they tell my family when they get the news to them? Will they say that they found their only child lying in a ditch...? I know I made some bad decisions, but it shouldn't have to end like this. Should have stayed home tonight and not had those extra drinks. I should've, could've, would've but I didn't even think........

thanks for kickin things off.

Bring forth ye heart-departed
... Thou hast a hollow heart, 'tis true
'Tis fallen - withered willows weeping
Seraphic deviltry trieth to conquer! - but to no avail!
He follows a life of love and scorn
She writes "abide by thee"
She hath no life but the one he for her raught

Prophetless or fond?
Tho' his parte of truth be faugh'd
I repent to-morrow - repell me if ye can!
Yet the kiss and breath - Venus' bane... not of wane
"Sicker!", quoth the Doves and Ravens

Still, art thee quaint in His eyne - a sight divine?
A couplet fuell'd by its prest haughtiness
If He did grant, wherefore then did He not forsee
Belike aghast as it to him might be?!
For was he an eerie being
Or was she weening alack nay mo
Her naysay raught his heart
His baffling was the grave of all her hope...
They belied their own words
He thought her life, save moreo'er scourge
She held him aghast! - yet weeping
He left her ne'er without his hollow heart

CRAZY

They say thats it's all in my head
But how can that be when the pain is so bad?
All that I see
All that I feel
How can they think that these things aren't real?

They days go by fast
The nights go by slow
How long will this last?
I just do not know
When it is dark as night
I see their faces
When I shine a bright light
They vanish without any trances

For every minute, in every day
Im scared and alone, on my knees I pray
Awaiting my doom
And everlasting pain
In a windowless room
I'm driven insane

If I close my eyes
You cannot see the truth
And you cannot see the lies
If I cover my ears
I cannot hear the cries

The voices in my head
Say they wish I was dead
Their hateful words fill me with dread
Are they taking over me?
Can't think straight, can't see clear
To lose my mind is my greatest fear

They say that I'm crazy
Want to lock me up today
But that will not keep
They pain or monsters away

Now my fears can reach me
I have nowhere to run
They'll torment me for eternity
It cant be undone

I found out that people call them night terrors
I call them visits from an evil man
from the house of horrors
A man who, for years, tries his best to get to me whenever he can

It started when I sobered up
And lasted many years after
Even though no booze ever hit my cup
He came to me in dreams devoid of laughter

Reaching for me as I slept in my bed
Through the wall; he had a white face and grey hair
Just as he started to touch my head
I woke up thrashing; it just wasn’t fair

He didn’t care if anyone slept beside me, and I never would forget
How it pleased him more so; when he got to make me flail at them
I would wake up with my heart pounding; drenched in cold sweat
Sleep became a scary thing; I wondered if it would ever end

There were many dark nights when he tried to touch my face
At the last minute, he would pull away
And I would wake up to find myself clawing at the wall of my resting place
My bedroom became, to me, a frightening place to lay

It has been nearly thirty years; I still remember the feeling
Of how I felt waking up after one of these nightmares
And how people beside me thought I was crazy when I woke up reeling
from a night of restless hell; I always thought no one cares

If you think that recovering from alcohol abuse is hard
You are right, but you might not have thought about this
Or how real these kind of night terrors feel, but you can’t let down your guard
Just think of one of these as the worst blackout that will ever exist

great jobs so far!

Organs in Cathedrals

The sun streams through my window
a glowing contrast to the darkness in my head

I'd give most anything
to wake up without myself or
not at all

there's something everlasting
about my fleeting thoughts
like organ notes in a cathedral
they hang hauntingly over everything

I want to stop running
to catch myself and take my breath away
time is always there for me though
no escape

the moon may find me empowered this time
ready for victory as the night provokes
with declarations of a long day to follow

the next sun arriving to mock
and hearing only my laughter
hanging hauntingly over everything
like organ notes in a cathedral
gone

The scene cleaned like it never happened-
except for an irregular hole in the wall. No blood
No furniture.
I wonder if  
I might retrieve from that hole, a bullet fragment
or a piece of brain tissue or skull- something
solid enough to draw a tear.  I'm numb.
Everything that drives my machine returns here- the home of my grandfather.
Poetry, literature, comic books, monster movies, motorcycles-
All introduced in those early years while I was kept by my grandfather.  
He would read to me before bedtime from a 1946 edition of
"A Treasury of Great Poems edited by Louis Untermeyer" and would ask me questions afterwards.

Paper said, "No motive was given for the double shooting."
Made it look like grandpa lost his cool.
Everyone in the family knows Grandpa never lost his cool.
Coolest bastard that ever walked.  Clark Gable looking handsome, and Hollywood cool.
There was motive:
love.

Granddad was walking dead with lung cancer.  
Doris, his third wife,
was mentally long gone- with no family to care.
Our side had already made up their collective mind
to committing her should grandpa go first.

I try to imagine his mindset during the final hours.
Was he detached and methodical? Emotional?  
The act was premeditated.
Pops told me that grandpa and Doris made a suicide pact
long before she got crazy and he got sick.
I imagine she was doped-up and asleep
before he tagged her toe:  
instructions on what to do with the bodies:
both to science.
Three fifty seven magnum.  
First to her head.
Did the tears come at this point, or did he remain stoic,  pulling the trigger on himself, closing the door on light,
in favor of self imposed forever darkness.

The family has gathered in the house to split up the possessions.
I was offered the living room furniture.
I can't.  
The only thing I want is something that will keep him real.

A treasury of Great Poems...