NationalPoetryDay

Today I am the weather.
Cold,
Grey and
Raining.
Sadness falls from my eyes
Like the rain falls from the sky.
There is no blue in the sky
And there is no happiness in my soul.
The wind blows hard and 
I wish it would blow 
My sadness away with it.
The sun peaks through
A tiny gap in the clouds.
It momentarily warms me.
But just as quickly as it comes,
It is gone again.
Leaving me 
Cold,
Grey and
Raining......
#MightyTogether #MightyPoets #NationalPoetryDay #Depression

There's somewhere I go that I go so alone that

I don't think even Yahweh goes there with me

It's that borderline place where I've drawn the line

between hating life and choosing to live it anyway

Where my tears fall asleep with my prayers at night

and I wake more tired than when I went to sleep

Taking all I've got inside of me to get out of bed

and pick out clothes that won't show my darkness

Brush my teeth and hair, paint my face a little

to hide the signs of crying myself to sleep last night

Does anyone ever really care about another's pain?

People say they love you then mistreat you with words

Only serving to push me further into myself to hide

away from their typed love mixed with selfish hate

Because everyday I can't be their dream me

sometimes I have to be my reality me to breathe

Even in my darkness I find a solace in the reality

of the pain that makes me want to die

As I sit here without you in this place of no light

without your love and none of your understanding

I realize maybe you don't even know what love is and

it makes my dark place have absolutely no light

And I sit in silence...

beauty (part 2)

if you asked this lady looking at her figure
the thoughts she reveals to be familiar
she would consider sharing her notions
the raw reasoning behind her emotions
that at twenty-two, her body is declining
she’s gotten pitifully skilled at disguising
the decay and awful toll she’s harnessing
these 80 hour weeks are truly crushing
her attempts to cushion the blow falter
the last thing she wants is to be a martyr
it’s just being smarter, right? she wonders
or is she just a mere product of culture
system failing the past several hours
she’s searching for her superpowers
the ones that allowed her to carry on
all she finds are cough drops and lip balm
a ticking time bomb, for now just defused
work is a phonebook; no signs of abuse
wounds appear to only be skin deep
methods to conceal great lack of sleep
presentation is a billion dollar industry
stripped of any sympathy or dignity
indifferent to harmful effects of policies
certainly no apologies for the atrocities
outlining a goal which is unattainable
but blaming those who are incapable
of achieving perfect balance and harmony
of maintaining both quantity and quality
in a feasible life, one should find comfort
in simply putting their best foot forward
unfortunately the starting line is altered
jumping off points are vastly scattered
facade is shattered by harsh reality
and the fact that we are just a nobody
one more face passing you on the street
no one questioning what’s found beneath
the surface level of another passerby
looks still determining who’s worthy
hurry along to the next item on an agenda
the faces will blur until they are blended

beauty (part 1)

water washes off insomnia that resides

desperately grasping at her insides

morning routine brings sense of content

even if only for these brief moments

outfit laid out as if for a mannequin

belonging to the wife of a congressman

bags under the eyes covered with powder

mascara to soften, eyeliner to empower

hot air blown forcefully to dry the hair

swept up into a clip for an air of debonair

wisps hang down to ensure that frame

the effortless look is the only aim

wedged heels add inches to height

blouse tucked in and belt secured tight

accessories to add a hint of personality

the only remaining sense of originality

all of these tasks in the name of show

radiating the confidence and glow

maintaining perfected professionalism

seemingly intertwined with materialism

heels, slacks, watches, blazers

searching for symbolism in these layers

dressing herself in every single morning

without question of the person forming

staring at the woman in the reflection

she musters up a humble projection

what shes supposed to be doing, her role

doesn’t know if she’s actually in control

of the image she’s come to portray

come every brand new week day

she turns heads, she’s put together

judged solely on her abilities as a dresser

elegance detected upon the surface

often found to be somewhat worthless

when one is honestly trying to discern

who a stranger is as an individual person

yet it’s all we use, have at our disposal

until we take the leap of faith to be social

fall leaves

the rain falls, washing away yesterday
dreary and bleak, air smells of decay
it’s hard to try to turn over this new leaf
its time on the branch seems so brief

from their base, descend to the ground
the tree stands bare, it’s almost proud
to shed these leaves, shed its skin
maybe that’s the only way to begin

wait for a new round of buds in spring
i’m scared for what the winter will bring
when i’ll stand there, stripped to my core
i’ll question if i can take anymore

i fear the unknown, what i cannot see
i’m like the leaf, fallen from her tree
i’m looking up at my once humble abode
and then ahead at the treacherous road

i whisper, i cannot do this alone
just like that, i’m picked up and blown
the wind carries me, far from this place
the cool air slaps my tear-stained face

i’m going home, wherever that may be
for the first time, i’m feeling free
the breeze stops, i suddenly dive
i’ll be back up, i know i’ll strive
#Anxiety #ChronicIllness #Depression

If I had cancer,

I wouldn't wear an itchy wig.

A scarf, maybe,

Or an outrageous hat

And a smile,

So people would call me brave,

Ask how I was faring

Or how they might help,

And visit me with well-intentioned casseroles

That I could not eat.

But I don’t.

I have an unheard-of disease

With an unpronounceable name,

It’s held at bay by chemo, too,

But compassionate casseroles have shelf-lives.

My disease does not.

And I have no outrageous hat, so:

“But you look so good--”

(Not “What can I do?”)

While my head throbs,

The skin under my skin is aflame,

And I swallow my thirty-two pills.

Wait--

That’s thirty-two drugs,

Forty-eight pills, I think.

Except on chemo weeks,

Or when the sores bleed,

Or another infection takes hold,

Or my joints crackle and creak,

Or volcanic eruptions….

But I'm sorry; you don't want to hear that part.

And, oh, I have made my point.

And with so many treks

To so many specialists

(Nine at last count),

The pills are always changing

So that I can keep looking so good

So that I can go out

And shuffle my deck of comfortable lines,

Pick the right card to say for you,

Pretend that I can eat today,

(Make note of the nearest restroom),

And smile.

Because I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.

I don’t.

So I won’t bring this up again.

(Unless-- please say that I can.)

But next chemo week,

Or next hibernation in sweaty week-old sweats

Wishing my water bottle were six inches closer,

I’d like to not wonder if you wonder where I am.

I’d like to not pretend for you.

And even though I couldn't eat it,

I’d really love a casserole.

#MightyPoets #NationalPoetryDay

Haste not be made, I value the
silence in this swamp of sweetly strewn
surrender. I navigate the trail where many
persons sunk into the mud. I can
clearly keep my footing through the muck
others have only attempted to trudge. It’s
ignorant to recall the trials within the
story of me, a man now unafraid.

Persons can either lionize or demonize the
spirit one derives from heartache, and for
others to recall my falls will remain
bitter. Ask if it’s possible to honor
yourself with triumph. God rejects the big
plans you made to meet Him halfway.

Humble I remain as I submerge deeper.
Time has made this a plethora of
affairs and obstacles to clear. All the
trickery in the touch of the leaves
is amusing to me. I have no
Ideals regarding whether I could rise to
heroism. I earned the stripes and badges.
Yourself? Can you see or feel my
affection? Can you open yourself to the
love of nature? Can you forgo the
disenchantment as we move to the tall
grass waiting for our toil and levity?

Years ago, I was just a naive
youth who was barricaded within the vast
misfortune of my efforts. My realities were
imaginings once. They were a respite from
loneliness. It was a concept to realize
discipline is needed. You need to prompt
yourself to never fear, but brave elements.

Universe: a community of various types of
stars, whether ethereal or on this Earth.
Here, I stand to tell my story.
You are my first choice, as I
should leave myself open to the process.

God almighty, I would cross the depths.
Be it sand, mud, or slush, my
aspirations are of my making, of my
soul, of my desire to be loved.
Dreams, now realities I release into the
world I’ve grown to appreciate. I am
cheerful that I’ve traversed, I aim for
happy media, even when I sink deep.

depression is a force of nature

i see the trees tremble and shake

they are fully alive and awake

they sway from the force of the gust

they bend and swirl, but never break

i feel the cold lash at my cheek

i shiver, i remember i am weak

i am not planted, i have no roots

yet i cannot escape the bleak

the grey of the billowing clouds & skies

the color matches your cold, dead eyes

is this what i’m destined for?

a life of continuous goodbyes

leaves crackle &crunch beneath my shoes

i know this isn’t what i would choose

i would want more, i would want love

i wouldn’t want the constant dark blues

i trudge on, i march my way on home

and try to ignore the never ending dome

of doom and despair that’s closing in

leaving my thoughts to freely roam

they race away from me, long gone

in this game of life, i’m merely a pawn

you’re the king, always protected

from the light of a brand new dawn

the sun is coming, its rays break through

with its vibrant yellow and orange hue

your defense breaks down and i succeed

i always knew my strength was true

#Anxiety #ChronicIllness #Depression