Breathe deeply; Brightly scented Huckleberry candle, With hints of fresh rain. Gusting winds that bring Promise of late summer storms. Turn now, aging pages of Yellowing gold. Beloved texts, ancient and bold. Drink of their wisdom With wide-eyed wonder. Warm now, and safe From dragons and thunder.
I go walking in the rain to hide my tears, Quite the cliche, but still, A deluge against hot fears and chill, It’s the only way I can stay standing, Without understanding Why.
Hate the cold, love the thrills, so I learned to embrace all kinds of pills. Sweet lies as they laugh, ‘Though for a second I feel well, They are false promises by half, That just bring darker hell.
I crawl into cracks, Hiding from the doubt, But I’m so fucking lost, Am I crawling in or out?
Trembling, I tremble more. Parts of space not seen before. Stuck on the event horizon of my heart, An endless fall into a deep black hole, Major Tom, I’ve lost control. I’vr become a total mess. I ache more, I cry more. I become less.
What good are windows?
The view stays the same:
Grey, grey days only promising rain.
One more sign I’ve lost control of my brain.
Perhaps I should say ‘I never really had it’.
It’s not as though you can reach out and grab it.
Trying too hard to do whatever it takes:
Deliberately remaking all my remade mistakes,
Never get to choose just which part of me breaks.
It’s like Tori and her ‘Little Earthquakes’:
“Doesn’t take much to rip us into pieces”.