How did I get here?

You wonder

What day is it?

You ask

Did this happen yesterday or last week?

You question

To whom did I speak an hour ago?

You try to recall


All your days look the same

They all feel the same

A monotonous blur




You change your outfits every day

You apply your makeup in the same way

You take the same route

You make the same small talk with the same people

You aren’t listening to them

Nor are they to you


You stopped caring

Why should you?

Your hands are keeping their grasp on reality

Your mind wandered away long ago

What will happen if your hands slip?

Will you fall?

Or just float, bobbing like a buoy on the surface of the sea?


You search for the light

You crave the hope

You pray for tomorrow

Because you’ve given up on today

And lost faith in the lessons of yesterday


You walk without the aid of your consciousness

You talk without assistance from your mind

You live without the attachment to your body

You exist in a vacuum

Your body functions of its own accord

It senses and reacts


You feel nothing

You exist within

You are detached

You are disconnected

You are alone

You fear tomorrow and despise today

You wish for a change

You wish to feel again




The uncertainty is punishing

Impossible to bear

Living in limbo

Your hair about to tear


Anxious about tomorrow

What it will bring?

Will it float you ahead?

Or lead you to sink


Irritating stagnation

Putting you on edge

Between you and your patience

Driving a wedge


Her Anger

Her anger comes from a place of sadness

It hurts when she smiles and it slays her kindness

Her tears turn to steam when they touch her cheek

It’s when her fury reaches its peak

She wants to tell them all her pain

But her confession will surely ruin the game

No one will listen to the screams of a little girl

So why would they care about a woman’s nerves when they twirl

They lie to her face as they lie to themselves

She lies as well, but in her anger she dwells

Lost in an unforgiving world

She pretends, but in bed she’s curled

Unsure and broken most days

The pressure fuels her craze

A strong woman, it’s undeniable

Still vulnerable no matter how reliable

Seen as a force by some

By others a nuisance, a joy by none

On the verge of tears

Bottling up her fears

She absorbs every stab

Every word, slur and jab

Uncertain that a bright tomorrow will ever come

She takes a pause before she sprints to a run



Enveloped by Darkness

Enveloped by darkness day after day

Surrounded by friends ready to play

Alone in a crowd cheerful and smiling

Drowning inside dying and crying

Isolated as usual with limited choices

Invisible among them, but no one notices

Critical sometimes they are of my ways

Silent or furious are my moods without delays

Hearing their voices but not listening to their words

Because often they slay me like sharpened swords

Not great company I am I know

But where else am I supposed to go

Trapped inside myself away from reality

Despising its expectations and meaningless futility

Away when among them, away when alone

Haunted by demons that were birthed at home


Locked in an internal box

Living in a monsterous world

Devoid of life

Broken extremities

Hanging off of a robotic skeleton

Skull cracked

Lonely beings

Putting on a theatrical performance

Methodical actors

Soulless the experience

Lying behind meticulous masks

Hopes shattered

Bloody streets

Contaminating the senses


Cut through the noise

Stitching the mouth shut


Grey Sheet

A grey translucent sheet is cast in front of my eyes
Distorting my view and signaling my demise
I see the world often so bleak
A crippling feeling that hinders my ability to speak

Past regrets and pains swimming in my mind
Rendering me virtually blind
Absent I am from the events of the present
But I try and often fail to seem almost pleasant

Regretable choices not truly chosen
By a heart once beating and now sits frozen
Trying to please eveyone but myself
I commit to decisions made by eveyone else

Fears take charge of a boggled mind
Detaching it from reality and forcing it to hide
Creating a world so it can try to survive
The tortured self has not yet been revived