Manic

I’m crushing pills between rotted teeth,
gums bleeding from the stems of roses,
Countering the stench of self-infliction;
Puckered lips from lemon drops,
Its sour breath fogs the windows
as I ride along with impulsive behaviors;
I hopped this train to madness,
I will take the ride until I am discovered,
and thrown in the snow
atop this mountain I rolled myself into.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!

Healing My Inner Child

Sometimes it’s not about me;
It is about the need to feel secure as young;
To live without the noise that deafened fragile ears;
It is about striving for comfort in the innocence
That was ripped from my hands
when I was too small to reach for it back.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!

Tie Goes to the Dealer

These words no longer feel as though they belong to me.
I used to hold them in the palm of my hand, offering a full view to the crowd.
There used to be eagerness in my voice
as I laid out the hand I’d dealt;
A cheat to the rules of the game;
I enforced a personal ban
and offered my position to one who protests none
to a game twisted in favor of the one in control.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!

Hell Will Be My Home

Embracing the feeling of the devil’s fingertips
tracing a homicidal outline on my sensitive skin,
singing the flesh off the bone;

A guttural noise escapes
the bottom of my throat,

I welcome the pain;
find pleasure in the torture, even.

No questions or doubt;
They say home is where you belong,
and I have come prepared with luggage.

Expectant of the torment
I’ve been sentenced;

Warnings are unnecessary;
a precaution in the contract from the King.

This is where I’m destined to fall.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!

Must Have Been the Wind

Sweat lingers a while,
seeping through rumpled sheets
to remind you that you can still feel-

Fingers lingered longer than a butterfly
can flap its wings without falling tired;
A soft buzz, mistaken for the hummingbird;
an aggressive display of the effect of the sound
from the voice of a goddess wrapped in silk-

An airy whisper against your ears,
honey flows down your spine,
and you feel as though this is..

This is the gratification in the mind,
satisfaction to a body that responds
to the tickle of  these melodies.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon

Voiceless

Before I got lost searching for solidarity;

Every part of my being was in danger
of becoming a calculated response.
There was a never-ending fear of the metaphors
Breaking free from the caverns in my brain,
and being publicized to the world for relatability. 

Instead of storing these writings of spiraling madness,
I let it flow wirelessly to whomever would bear the burden;

Regret is a toxin I’ve since become addicted,
feeding off the thoughts, no longer giving chance
to the voiceless;

And never did I think silence would ever be so comforting.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!

Blame

Crushed by the weight of blame,
gravity becomes an enemy;
Guilt seeps through the cracks of torture;
Confusion of the wrongfully accused.

Tried and failed;
The jury too clueless to rule in favor.

A form of torture, this becomes,
questions now allegations
creating a fire that burns from the inside out.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon

Changed

Rearranged my soul;
Adopted the personality to better
fit the morals of someone
Who’s seen the waves
deteriorate rock bottom
to no more than pebbles.

Found the courage
to wander into the trees,
no longer afraid
of spiders in their hammocks
and snakes in the brush.

Unequipped and unprepared,
I’ll never return to the road
that guided me towards
an unfinished compound sentence.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!

Rotting Away

I’m standing knee deep in years of waste
thrown atop the grave of an unknown soul.

Importance matters not to you
when the life is not relative.

He sleeps restless in a rotted coffin;
blanketed in the arms of roots
that the maggots use for transportation.

He will never be known, but the first trash
ever to lie within this landfill
that reeks of pollution and repressed memories.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!