Ending Self Destruction

I am essentially seeking free therapy

I will be writing a piece as well but will not enter it in the competition.

Please share with us:
1) One poem, based on the above quote, in any style or genre
2) of 200 words or less
3) that is new or old
4) with no collaborators

“I will no longer mutilate and destroy myself in order to find a secret behind the ruins." - Hermann Hesse

Labyrinthine

The crypts of my heart
are a labyrinthine oak hold
I wander from time to time
in search of hazy dreams

yet visions dull
as they always do
when pupils dilate
against the sun's
morning blooms:

I watch the sunrise
as one watches swallows
dive into the thick grass,
pregnant with knowledge
of ascension

for I will not trade blood
with complex stone,
I will not lay down to die.

I will allow love to whisper
sonnets I heard
on an August wind;
a prayer under pressure
of hope, that I
am yet to write.

Thank you so much, Missy, for breaking the ice with your beautiful words. I am, already. inspired & ascending,

REBORN FROM THE FIRE

Rising from the remnants of time long forgotten fire
The phoenix once again soars high to reach the sky
Mixed emotions sorted, filled with fervent desire
Free spirit reborn from nothingness, free again to fly

Gave up everything, his poor soul beyond redemption
The phoenix shed vibrant colors to clear his weary mind
Hidden underground in obscurity to avoid total destruction
Vowing a new code of honor, never again to be blind

Looking at the hourglass beyond the depths of time
The phoenix tries to remember the old glory days
If only he could turn back time on a flick of a dime
He would gladly do so, in so many special ways

With renewed purpose casted on a raging fire
The phoenix is on the path of self-redemption
His gracious and noble ways you will admire
So far from the old one buried into oblivion

I am always encouraged by the image of the rising Phoenix and you've infused that image with beautiful eloquence...thank you EngrVV.

A, THE, conversation with God

Alright God. I give.
My ass is kicked.
I've gotta get this shit licked.
My son, he said he hates me?
Took my last pill.
But I really needed to just fucking chill.
Okay, lying. Again. Took more than a few.
And my last drink.
But you know, a cocktail helps me think.
Fine God, thats bs. My cocktails now are bottles.
But God, hey, im on my damn knees!
Just fucking help me please!
I want, no, i need to get better.
My life no longer has meaning.
I no longer feel like a human being.
Just the walking dead.
Long time ago, stopped being bout self discovery.
A friend, he talked to me about recovery?
And I'm....I'm,  yes. I am ready to surrender.
Aaahhh.. I just felt such release!
And....I think maybe, was that peace?
Its been so long.
Alright, im ready, I am really, through!
Yours God, just show me what to do.
I! Am no longer dying.

Time has healed
most people do not know
who I was when I was out in the field
testing the waters, pushing the boundaries so

I would wake up after a bad night
and set myself a goal of making it until noon
and I'd pray that everything would be all right
if I just made it until then, I'd be over the moon

If no cops came, and there were no new bruises showing
If there were no phone calls from friends
telling me where I'd been and not knowing
for the most part, noontime was a deadline on which my sanity depends

And whether I could make it a half day
and then all bets were on
I would feel great, what can I say
almost normal, and then the paranoia would be gone

In the beginning, I used to wait a day or two
to find out what horrific things I did
sometimes it took a while for things to brew
so much so, that for two days I hid

Until that one day
I was sleeping on the floor in the bathroom at work
and the boss knocked on the door to say
Come on, get back to your desk, its Monday, don't be a jerk

In the fetal position after taking a crap
I couldn't bear to be near anyone
and it wasn't even noon, at that
I turned my jacket inside out, laid it down and had a nap

No more Mondays in the crapper
the boss had figured it out
I secretly wanted to slap her
I went back to my desk with a pout

It was almost eleven thirty
a half hour and it was lunch time
The inside of my jacket may have been dirty
but in a few minutes, all would be fine

The sheriff was coming soon
to serve papers on a client
I had to escort him to the meeting room
and then lunch, up till now all had been quiet

In he walks, I avoid eye contact
and tell him to follow me
After I closed the door, he opened it a crack
and asked if it was me he saw at the corner of Winter and Bree

Near the alley last Sunday morning
I said that it might have been, that I get around with friends
He said I was disturbed and screaming
And that's when my noontime deadline ends

Wow! Calamity and Primogenito your work is so sincere and displays such courageous vulnerability. I am so excited to read honest accounts of the human spirit in turmoil but still finding that modicum of strength to carry on.

God, i rememer that waiting primogenito. To see if what id said or done in a state of unremembering would come undone. Great write.

i will not hold the handle of the knife
that finally gores me
spilling the mundane secrets of my anatomy
on a poor somebody's floor

the muscle that breaks
the pulsing barrier
between the worlds
it is not mine,

not mine

Seppuku

My pen is a sword sharpened by peril
in anguish it rips me apart
excavating dirt faithfully
keeping my tongue on the cutting edge
barbed and direct
I lick myself

Anna and Miki, thank you for these wonderful poems. Anna, "Not mine" i read as a realization that we all belong to the universe of life...off-base, probably. Miki what a wonderful tool for catharsis is a pen and you wield it so well.

Thank you. Was a turning point. 🌷

###

"Seeking Answers Under"

Long have I sought the answers
to my life's myriad questions
hidden just beneath the skin

I open, looking, bleeding, crying
elusive meanings slip my view
new scars mark missed opportunities

I never give up, never give in
so much flesh left yet to search
one part mystery, two parts madness

Buying new blades, guilty, excited
the tools of the truth, of my secret
This useless process has to end

I mean to forever pursue my need
The answers I'll not die without
But I changed my tactics, my methods
for instead of incisions to look within
I choose to envision transparent skin