Phoenix Rising

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The void was in me before I took the first drop of poison promising to relieve it all

The pain of denial, pretense, of living a lie enforced by the fear of abandonment, when abandonment would in all likelihood have set me free

The cold in the space where love should’ve been, the twisted ways I chose to love and be loved

The methodical approach to finding, then experiencing it all, everything, at least once

The knowing I’m holding a loaded gun to my head yet continue, dauntlessly challenging the universe

The moments I desperately long to have back, the time I have wasted wallowing and believing everything ever said to me, instead of believing my intuition, what I know to be my purpose

The knowing I am more, more than I’ve been told I can, more than what I have, more than you, a knowledge without language no words can explain, which roar through the silence, how can everyone not hear them?

I am empty, cold, have only me to offer, I give up, surrender, do with me what you wish, I can no longer feel the pain you’re (sub)consciously inflicting on me. I’m filled with sorrow, for the lost hours and friendships, wasted conversations and pointless exploits, the only echo left, the sighs of dying embers

Into a million indiscernible particles I am scattered, and the silence of the void is filled with acceptance and love, patience and belief, tolerance and indulgence, rebuilt into someone who looks like me, but who’s outgrown all and every power ever wielded over me, feel me if you dare to feel the light

Free me

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Free me from there where I’ve been

Free me from the bonds within

Release me from these unwanted obsessions

Expunge the learned prescribed transcriptions

Free me from these eternal contradictions.

The State I'm In

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I cannot do this. I cannot be a pivotal factor in the course of another’s life.

 I would forever carry the repercussions as my personal responsibility,

I’d be a traitor to truths we shared before things changed,

disturbed my balance, became intrusive, unflinchingly persistent,

and even though I know your reactions to be from the heart,

the chameleon in you frustrates me, I can’t keep up these walls all the time,

I must separate myself from your physicality, knowing I will miss you.

Now is what is, be in it, own it, direct the course, it's your own choosing,

decide, look towards answers, assess without emotions the means of getting there.

If you’re lucky you’ll be able tie them with your string of dreams,

if not it will hurt, do you see the position I now find myself in?

Let's pretend...

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Let’s pretend it didn’t happen

let's pretend I didn’t hear

I’ll pretend I believe you

and pretend that you love me

I’ll pretend it was a song

pretend everything is okay

and we can pretend to live happily ever after…

It is only at night

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It is only at night

when the sky is dark

and all is asleep,

when dreams sweep through starry skies

and the energy of the earth and the moon sings through me,

it's only then I feel peace inside….

In The Cold of This Here Morning

 

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I could take this car and go, speeding recklessly down highways, never stop, to get away from what? This pain overwhelms, cripples my thoughts, restricts my movements, and I cannot determine the source of it.  I’ve berated myself for being self-indulgent, ungrateful, feeding my ego, living in yesterday, wishing for tomorrow.  I feel nothing, not love, not hate, not hope, just empty and cold and alone.  I have faked smiles, I’ve given, encouraged, put a light on in another’s darkness. I’ve watched your response, doubtfully hopeful, hesitant, but I’ve been gifted too with your smile.  At the streetlight I stop, colours catch my eye, green pines, orange bright, crisp blue rays, the song from the speakers swims through me. A bird swoops, red turns green and the grime in the gutters reappears, the beggars and impatient cars stream into my vision, the holes in the tarmac drawing me to the decay, showing me the rotten humanity, I cannot face anymore, this focus on my dissatisfaction, rebellion, trapped and held by my own mind, I cannot muster a selfless response, knowing is no longer enough. In these dead-end surroundings, amongst the harshness of poverty, pointless existence steals the pleasure previously felt. Hopeless, dreary, destructive, self-destructive, I must get through another day and you ask me why I am crying?

Life's little contemplations

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There’s nothing light about breaching the borders,

it is chaotic, destructive and dark,

it’s seeing the cruelty hidden behind artful facades,

feeling naked malice, intent and betrayal,

it means facing your beliefs, your fears, your deepest memories,

staring them in the face until you can see past their proximity,

giving you the courage to free yourself, lift yourself beyond

the grasp of the makers of this make-believe called ‘life’.

The passing of a season

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so here it is, the passing of a season,

past, lost afternoons in warm rays of laughter

words breathed to the rhythm of dreams

leading skin and spirit to peaceful convergence

yesterday echoes with the rolling waves.