December 28

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You’ve been putting out the fires for quite some time now
You can’t even see that it was all destined to burn anyhow
I can’t pretend to fucking care
I’ve even been setting them myself everywhere
But because of your fear
Because you’ve lived so clean and clear-
Time and again, You’ve  extinguished my flames
But this isn’t the ending-
I’ll simply find another way
To burn as hot and fierce as I need
To build or destroy anything
Fire never burned inside the lines
And is that not one of the only rules of life?
Is this is a battle or a death wish?
I couldn’t care less to distinguish the difference.
And for once I’m not the one who’s over thinking this
Hiding and trying to live within fucking fences
built out of judgement
You’re trying to keep this Leash on me
But you’ll never be able to hold it
In striving to remind me
what I was supposed to be
It’s all in vain
I’m not even listening
Past “Everyone else is…fill-in-the- blank!”
The dream is dead! Get over it!
That’s not for everyone
It never could
never would
Never will be
Anything but this unrestrained, unreconcilable burning!
So familiarize yourself with the flames
Make your peace and use the pain
Moving in rhythm with the ashes
Burn up the offering and incinerate the past!

December 27th thoughts

Does this hurt? Where is the pain?
I don’t even feel anything
Is this really supposed to be fun?
How can you enjoy this feeling out of touch?
But I know I left myself at the door for a reason
In this foolish act of a personal treason
You blow up even higher
And inhale as the night expires
While these little pills render me so numb and dumb
So removed from everything and everyone
I can’t feign enthusiasm
In this isolated, apathetic, bottomless chasm
I’d never seen until tonight
Never heard such an honest lie-
This worthless, illusion- riddled drain
I just can’t get into this mindless game
It’s best to let my spirit be and see-
I warned you that your Misery
doesn’t actually love the company

December 21st

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I’m sitting here in the rain with my little black bird friend, contemplating accepting the recent challenge to take another blind, uncomfortable stab at writing in a fashion beside the usual analogous poetry…
Typically, I’ve committed to such form of expression primarily to give the reader the ability to interpret it to be whatever is most significant to their own current circumstances. The second relevant reason, of the many, pertains to exactly what both prevents, yet brings me to be sitting here in the first place.
As a walked into the room, I saw a commercial on the television comprised of asking various individuals what they wanted to do with their future. Putting myself in various uncomfortable social situations, this question keeps popping up for myself of late, and so consequently this commercial evoked within me what it usually would- I laughed, and then I cried. Much to my surprise, the commercial then took a turn to include answers from the vantage point of individuals who suffer with various invisible illnesses, of whom said the same thing I hesitate to. It was a commercial for a site called Ok2talk.org of which is dedicated to being a safe place to share and gain anonymous support from others in similar situations. I would encourage anyone to check it out. Reading the words of just a few (I swear I just have something in my eye), their words resonated so hauntingly familiar- with the  words I reserve for myself alone. Sure, I know there are a lot of people out there who do understand and are also living in the midst of an invisible illness, but most don’t meet- for the obvious reasons.
In attempt to answer such a normal question about my future, I’ll tell any truth that can ease or evade being a “downer” to most, I’ll say that I’m fine (because in a global sense, I really am great) or “haven’t figured it out yet.” But if I answer from a personal level, I would say what they did- that I’m just trying to get through today! How the fuck would I be able to think, know, or even care about what I’ll do with the future?! I mean, I’m not the only surprised that I’m even still here. Yet for many, this statement lands a tad bit confusing or is interpreted as laziness or a lack of ambition. This is why it’s not talked about in the equal degree of its reality in countless lives. This is why there has in the past few years been the larger movement to remove the taboo from the stigmatized “mental illness.” This is why, most of the time, I myself avoid even trying to explain or describe “what it feels like.” It rarely bridges any gap and has often opened the door for judgement and abandonment- typically already a pervasive theme for hurting people.
Losing people because of the manifestation of my depression was such a deep-seated fear (and reality) of mine for the longest time, and still comes up from time to time. But I’ve been realizing that in trying to put myself out there despite all that’s unsaid, I’ve been able to meet- to my utter disbelief- a few people who reflect the love, patience, and character that I had become so sure had become lost within myself and in the world. As for the many “otherwise” situations-
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Proverbs 17:17
“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.”

December 20th- Away

I met you on a Valentine’s day
Wanderers converging while going their ways
And we meet frequently
In various ways
In random, secluded places
Sometimes even as strangers

For we both desire solely to be away

Buy you said you’d meet me
Underneath the old oak tree
On December the 19th’s evening

And today I waited, lying in its shade
I saw the eagles proudly surveying
the coyotes seeking out their prey
I watched the quail lead her young safely across my way
And listened to the hummingbirds familiar chirping for its mate

I dug at the base of that dead tower’s roots
Where we once used to leave each other sweet, silly notes
Leaping, dancing upon the heights
We’d get away from this city
Even if just for a day’s time

And we were away

Racing across the valley
And through its shadows inside
Running swift and high
And tasting a spring day
Alive in its vivid light

But you- you never came

I know you live to be away
You know that I’m the same
And we’re content to get lost
And so, we stay

We know that all we’ll ever have
Are these successive moments
These memories frozen beneath
The ensuing discontent

And laughing at myself then,
I got up and left
Because I would know best
That there’s no making plans
We wander out
and we wander back in
And we’ll wander upon
each other again.

December 18th free write

Carrying through with the motions day after day
For sake of the evaporating
Image of success made
Delaying a resting place
Keeping a steady, even pace
But at its end, the disconcerting voice of imminence
still persists
Chiming, reminding of its
Ever increasing precedence
Dominating all that’s mundane
Silencing the beckoning charades
How can they not hear it?
How can they repeat, grow weary
And speak of being content
Surely even Sisyphus yearned for release of spirit
Different people, the same intent
Or vary the scene, with equal consequence
No one
No thing
Satisfies spirit
In its tireless desire to ascend
So escape away to the place where one can be found while hiding
Revealing the true soul for this one moment in time
A lifetime of one’s spirit trapped inside
Tracing electric from skull down the spine
There is no connection
Cease searching for it
For there will never be
Anything but this
Eternal acknowledgement…

Empty

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The nervous system is down today
In the field of our minds we weep and play
Where nothing matters in this place
Right or wrong in this offering

This kiss can mean whatever you want it to be
Caught ourselves in-between the passionate loss of meaning
And in the rain
We are empty

You’re alone, no matter where you go
No where’s home, no soul you hold
And you wonder what this is all for
So many questions and no open doors

So just lay it down, Pour it all out
It means nothing now,    skies looking down
Our two souls are out
Somewhere else anyhow

This kiss can mean whatever you want it to be
It means nothing
To you or me
And in this rain
We are empty.

December 17th free write2

You call me a dreamer for holding out for more
Than just a business agreement- all cold and in order
With its terms and conditions
Which only end up limiting this
To what you can write, what you can see
What you can hold with ease and safety
While clinging to what’s quickly achievable
A cheap, legalistic travesty
Solely for that it’s easily reachable.

Head and hands against a wall
I’d rather be here alone
Than exhausting the inevitable
And suffocating the inward pull
Sating, quenching all that’s foolish and “magical ”
Or to give a little here and there
With whomever mixes paths
Never crossing over
Never even knowing
What there is
       To want to last