In complete chaos
and disorder,
I find myself
in your arms
safe from harm.
I am warm.
No.
They don’t love me
like you love me.
You are dirty white lace
in my space.
I seek you,
long to be near you.
Your company -timeless
You’re A Symphony
of positivity.
Behavioral issues,
grab the tissues
for hostile actions
and words of offense.
Push them away,
they’ll never stay
in hopes of peace
Panic intends to crush.
Brains turned to mush
listening to drivel.
I will not sit here and snivel.
I don’t care what you say
you’re Not Okay.
Evading outer instability
-a skill never taught.
I see my thoughts
float from the page,
Now Free
from scrutiny.
An absent opinion
no longer has its hold on me.
My beliefs are valid
beyond my mind.
You Leave Me with
the overwhelming feeling
of wrongdoing.
But your powerless
fists of pointed fingers
raise the beast in me.
An independent voice of reason,
my speech is not treason.
There is a time and place for the season
of the beast.
A time to cease
fire in dire straits.
Linen thin skin
of Prim and Proper.
A living dynamic being.
Life uprooted
looking for soil.
The joy of being
a dusty rose
in a baby blue world.
I beg for my demise-
A Sinners Reprise
of self harm,
but I’m unarmed.
Turn on the charm
like there’s no alarm.
A mask of disguise
to see through your eyes.
A tale of an unsound mind
and the mentality of the unkind.
So out unwinds
the fraying
fabric of our lives.
This town is a child’s toy,
and I’m stuck with the sounds
of Sitcom Syndrome.
The hum of laughter
caught in my ear,
but no punch line
held any good humor.
The building blocks of life
for toddlers to topple down.
While adults frown
at toys left on the floor.
Couldn’t take anymore
A foot step't, a child crept
On a sharp edge.
Couldn’t take anymore,
Legos left, parents wept
at baby booboo’s
and first lessons learned.
Redemption spoke to me
through the wing
of a gray bird.
A sound that was unheard,
disembodied,
intuition
divine.
The message I need,
right on time.
I savor the splendor
-the glimpse
of holy highs.
And I, so sly,
sit and observe,
sneak my way inside.
I find my pride,
Unleashed,
as a magician dove.
Why do you want me to fall?
Romanticizing illnesses.
Freakishly, pushing me off the edge
of my final call.
The suicidal ball
of yarn unravels
ethereal escapes
to run down in case of fire.
As the one I admire
eyes another option
of solitude-
despite gratitude.
Altruistic cries
in the depths of lies,
believed by fields
of frivolous buys.
Another day, another dollar spent.
I’m Spent.