Hurricane

When one look pulls
my heart up
through my throat
opening that deepest
well inside of me
I don't want to be
vulnerable
not in front of you
not when you call me a
force to be reckoned with.
Hurricanes are not weak.

On Depression

Black and thick like pitch
Oozing pouring into me
Restless nagging itch
Darkness filling all I see
Permeate my soul
Apathy will follow pain
I am never whole
Bring the hammer down again
Break away my shield
Sweep away my great facade
Porcelain always yields
(When) Iron Darkness rules as god. 


(Written a few months ago - I could have sworn I had posted this already but I guess I didn't. I like the rhythm of the lines though.)

Mania

This heaviness
Pounding in my blood like
drums of war
beating down into my
heart
Pressure building
higher
higher
sorrow squalling in my
chest
Until it's loosed I cannot
stop
It's screaming through my
blood and bones
Slamming out against my
skull
My body's shaking in
God knows what?
Won't dying be a rush?

Bring It On

I am a force to be reckoned with
There's a fire in my belly that
turns their knees to jelly
because, oh hell, she's set on her
course with no remorse.
Don't stand in my way, I've got to move fast
dropping my past and forging into a new day.
Don't hold me with your labels
Words strung like cables
trying to corner me, don't you dare order me
There's a disorder in my soul
a chaos I revel in
but I'll meet you on a level-playing field
Just give me a fighting chance
and not just a passing once-over glance
and you'll see I'm not a liar
I'm alight with desire
and ready to fill this whole fucking world with my fire.

Save My Soul

My religion is a ritual
Just you and I in
Cassock and habit
Sanctified and sacred in the eyes of God.
The words of your prayer resonate in my mouth
My rosary slipping through your nimble fingers
Forgive me Father, for I have sinned
It has been three days since my last confession.
Hail Mary Mother of God, God
god - Jesus,
Fuck!
Oh God!
My soul has been cleansed in the eyes of the Father.
Amen.

Shadow Self

Sometimes
That black shadow of despair
That woman, black as pitch
And frightful as glaring blood
Sticking her needle fingers into my
BRAIN
Gods save me
how?
When it is myself

Beating Heart

Teeth bared
Eyes shut
Fists strike
Hot flesh
Throat raw
Breath short
Blood sprays
Death takes

Self

Long has been the making of my heart
And longer still the birthing of my soul.
When, as a child, I thought I knew my part
I knew not yet my being was not whole.
As malleable as thread upon the wind,
I strove to please the ones I thought knew best
While smothering that little dark-eyed fiend
The only part of me who could protest
The systematic sealing off of all
The better parts of me I could bring forth.
And so it came to be as I grew tall
And curious that I found my narrow course,
Uncovering the thing I long desired
To be yet lacked the confidence to find
Within myself, albeit she required
The little dark-eyed fiend that I did bind,
Who welcomes me with open arms and eyes
The truest part of me that there could be
The innocence, now tempered well with wise
Words, the girl who's not ashamed of me.

Onwards

Across the sands and swells of time,
I wander with this heart of mine.
Along this path I walk alone
My lonely heart has not a home.
Defiant, free, my will strides tall
My soul lamenting of its fall
My spirit, beaten down, yet bright
Cheers them on with guiding light.
My path, unset beneath my feet,
Is singing out a steady beat
That begs my heart to soldier on,
"We cannot be alone for long.
There must be others like us here."
And so, with hope, I swallow fear
And urge my weary feet to move
For love, I know, has more to prove.

The Way It Is

The way of life is to drag me down
To stab me, bury me, watch me drown,
The pressure weighing heavily
Till I can hardly stand to breathe.
I'm buried so I cannot stand
With no one there to grasp my hand
And pull me from the murky depths
Of earth and blood and unquiet rest.
Buried in wraiths and shadows thick
My past and pain to my heart stick
The beating of my blood is faint
And weak, like prayers of a dead saint.
Don't call yourself a friend if you
Won't have my back when I ask you to.
Leave me be, just let me go
You've hurt me more than you will know. 


(Written Jan 3, 2012)