photo by BLT
photo by BLT
Scream no one can hear
Come undone no one can see
Dream screams; no one hears,
they’ve lost their ears.
Stab wounds, there is no blood,
no scars, no love.
Why, why, why.
Do you think you
need to know why.
Spread your arms, flap and run,
perhaps you will take flight, like a penguin.
I am a balloon. I float above the town, a renegade.
Beer, wine and a bottle of whiskey.
Marlboros, a joint, just you and me.
I HATE LIFE-
SORRY BUT IT’S THE TRUTH.
No smiles, just tears, no hope, just fears. No, no, no, no, no…
featured image by BLT
I WISH I COULD BLAME THE PAIN,
THE AIM OF THE GUN, AT MY BRAIN
BUT I CAN’T. IT’S ALL ME,
I’M THE ONE WHO HELD THE KEY,
TO THE DOORS TAGGED ONE, TWO AND THREE.
MY CHOICE TO MAKE, NO ONE DECIDED BUT ME.
THE DOOR I UNLOCKED WAS QUITE A DILLY,
THERE WAS NO JOY, AT NO TIME SILLY,
STRAIGHT AWAY IT OPENED TO TRAGEDY,
PAINTED WITH A TOUCH OF CALAMITY
HAND DRAWN SYMBOLS STILL WET FROM THE BLOOD
EACH SYMBOL REPRESENTING THE LOSS OF A LOVE.
Design photo by BLT
Writing about love is difficult for me.
My relationships were not the best, you see.
I’m not sure if what we had was love;
looking back at it now, it was all push and shove,
all fighting and jealousy, and way to much drink,
Too much crying, hate spewed and it makes me think
the thing we called love was so far from it;
more like an anti-love with a cherry upon it.
My last post by ifiweremeagain was about drug withdrawals.
Since then my mind had been a blank black hole.
What to say? What to write? What to contribute?
Dragging Yourself Home
You no longer lay beside the road hoping for a rescue.
There will be no liberation for the addict I assure you.
You may find some steps to help you through each day,
or you may just find a fix and call it good and down you lay.
There is no easy way to go through it.
You’ve been there, you swore you wouldn’t go back.
Realms of hell come to mind when experiencing it.
Torturous days with endless nights of sleepless misery.
Moving on to physical debilitation and mental instability.
Wishing you would die but, no, you don’t.
You crawl through the hot streets and collapse by the side of the road.
No one drives up and saves you.
Your eyes feel like burning orbs in your face.
Your skin appears translucent.
Your eyes feel like black holes in your skull.
You try and think of something else, anything at all.
Nothing comes to mind but agony.