Eagerness Turns to Isolation

You know your word
is an eager thing.

It can steal your pride,
touch your soul,
or even swallow you whole.

So speech is a powerful action
acting on it's own.

Sp me be aware of the way
you portray your words to me
or yours might swallow you.

Finally Finding Peace

If warmth can't be too warm
why is yours always burning me?

The grace you show so clearly
only gratifies yourself,
and all the pride
you've set aside
is the hallow thing I see.

Sunlight streaming through the window
is solace blinding me.

There is No Silence in the City.

I remembered the ghost
of the house again,
and how I was just a child then.

Although as an adult all I hear is
crickets and traffic
and screaming cicadas.

Cicadas so loud
they make your head pound.

The city is a severe place
when all the sirens sound.

With winters full of sickly snow
how any heart could have time to grow
is something I'll never know.

Memories of the unknown, spells where I can't stop shaking.

Recovery is cold-
recovery is regaining control
of a mental state torn from me
so long ago.

Getting anyone
to understand your issue
is hopeless
because no one ever will.

It's impossible,
no one can comprehend
bouts when reality is slipping
right through your fingertips,
and your hands
just aren't strong enough
to grasp and pull it back.

Control is a struggle
and something I'm lacking.
Control is a measurement
in which I need to comply.

Dewbie, You're a Dog.

I stood, bare feet
on the concrete.

Rain pouring down
gently, as I frown

at the dog searching
for the wet creature
that ran under the fence

and out of the yard.

Suppose the dog's life
must really be hard.

There's No Crowd.

I wish I had the words
to explain how mine fall,
tending to slip into some
imaginary black hole.

All importance aside,
these words would still
never steal an ear
and the audience
was never interested.

They decided to leave me
listless on stage,
speaking to empty chairs.