Depression

The burn that knows no fear
Haunts the back of my mind
Pulling my heart towards the daunting black
The black that pulls and tears and destroys
Yet holds you close to whisper
Deceitful lies of comfort
Pushing you into the abyss
With no safety rope to pull you back
So you're left with nothing to hold on to
As the black swallows you whole
And all you can remember is that cursed burn
That brought you in the first place
All that's heard is reverberating laughter
Emitted from the black
No longer comforting but terrifying
Wondering how long and how far you'll fall
Before anyone finds you
If they do
Before you hit the ground
The only companion left is the tears
Yet they remind you that no one knows or cares
And you long for the ground's approach
So that it can finally quench
That horrendous burn
Haunting your mind
As your heart is engulfed by the black

Despondence

Sleeping dreams trapped in memory
Without the inclination of ever moving forward
But shall never look back
The truth of words exists
But to mind them at all is open admittance
That soon you shall fall.

Unkept secrets cause the falter
The stumble, the mistake, the cause
To cause the end and watch it all
Burn
Falling flames to the ground
Shattering, scattering, dispersed.

Blinded by shock and fear
Forgetful or not, try as you will
Destruction
Is all you can feel
For hurt is all that's left to feel
Just broken, unable to heal.

Just imagine the severity
If feeling were to return
The trauma of mental stability shattered
And any sense of hope or faith or love vanishes
Divulged in no one as the pain eats away,
Devouring from the inside.

Gone. Silence. Nothing. Empty.
A hollow casing of what you once were
Tragedy of misery
Left alone to suffer no more
Just fade into nothingness,
A pitiful existence.

Slam Poetry Result

When I was at the Slam Poetry contest yesterday, this is what I came up with on the spur of the moment. I have no idea about it at all, but it's what I have

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To see all
is nothing but transit lies
to hide inside the pantomime of frozen time
deep within our broken dreams
of lost trust and sleeping kinds
of justified rhythms and rhymes
crushed into memory of trapped scars and forever lost
dreams

Slam Poetry

Yesterday I went to a Slam Poetry contest in Albuquerque where they named the first Slam Poet Laureate. The competition was amazing, and it really made me want to write again. Sure, I may not be the poet that any of them are, my writing may be nothing special, but it is something I do that is done for me, not for the approval of others. I write because it is another form of oxygen that helps to keep me alive. I'm sad that I haven't been writing more, but I think that today i will.

How Do I Tell You I Love You?

Stop. Inhale. Exhale. Go. Why yes, we are together.
It's the moments like these I'll cherish
forever. You made my breath stop with that glorious green
hidden in your eyes. As you smile, the shimmer
grows. My heart is faltering. Fancy that. You're so beautiful!
When I'm with you my heart is complete.

Like yin and yang, we are both part of one. We need the other to be complete.
I swear, when I'm with you the world stops. When we're together
the universe pauses and holds its breath in suspense. It's beautiful,
isn't it? Everything that is you is cherished
by everything that is me. I'm hypnotized by the shimmering
life force you release. The green

of life is the green
of your eyes. It's amazing how your eyes and your smile completely
aroused my slumbering heart fro the shimmering
depths of death. Deceptive, no? But when we're together
my heart beats every lost beat, cherishing
the wonderful, blissful, beautiful

moment when I see you. You really are beautiful.
You have a green
thumb, only it tantalized my love to grow. I cherish
you, this feeling, this joy, because it makes me complete.
I'm amazed by how we're bound together.
These tears that shimmer

on my face shimmer
dimly in comparison with your beautiful
self. The sense of togetherness
we have is amazing. That hint of green
seen as a spark of life is only the beginning of our love. Once completed,
well, will it ever be? Our love grows endlessly, cherished

and cared for by both you and me. I cherish
you and you cherish me, too. The sun is but a shimmer
of light in comparison to you completing
me. We have such an amazing beauty
that even gods have to do a double take. Green?
It is the color for you and I together.

I cherish you and your beautiful
self. I still falter in breath as I see the shimmering green
of your eyes. Without each other we aren't complete. We belong together.

Random Thing of Writing During Class Today

Subliminal transendence
Disappears behind a veil
Of closed doors
Built by lies
To hide the truth
In broken dreams
Where madness stirs
And chaos reigns
With nothing more
Than blinding fear
To debilitate
The mindless and soulless
Empty beings

Trapped in a Torture Chamber Part III

Hmm. More knocking. I must be the doctor.

"You wished to see me, ma'am?"

Yup. Doctor. I wish my doctor was a woman though. Then I could pretend to have some hot chick "examining" me, even if I couldn't feel it. But he's probably some middle-aged burnout who hates his life. Sick.

"Yes. I want to know what you have to say about my son."

"Well, ma'am, it's like the nurse said. Nothing has changed. But at least his condition is stable."

"What about his chances of recovering? How long will he be like this?"

"The chances of him recovering are minimal. I highly doubt anything will change."

Mom must be crying. Her breathing's changed. Faster, shallow breaths. A little rattly. Oi. Poor doctor. Mom is really hard to resist when she sheds tears. But she knows that. Maybe that's what she's doing, trying to get him to tell her I'll recover even if it's a lie I'd tell her myself if I could.

"Ma'am, I know this must be hard for you, first your husband, now your son - "

"He's not dead yet!"

Silence. Painful, numbing silence. So is that where dad is? Dead? I guess it would explain why she's a mess. But fuck. FUCK. Please tell me that's a lie and I'm just jumping to conclusions. FUCK!

I guess the doctor is leaving. Yup, there's the door. Aw, shit! That sounded like mom just feel. I would've caught her. Fucking douche, didn't even stay to make sure she was okay! Now she's on the floor crying and no one is there for her. Why do I have to hear this? Why couldn't I have just been a vegetable? Why do I have to live through this torture? Fuck my life!!!

I can'tg do this - listen to my mom collapsed on the floor crying over me and ... uhg, I can't even think it. Because there's no way dad is gone. It's dad, he's always there. His quirckiness, his spontaneous laughter - no, he's not dead. He's going to walk in through the door any second now laughing and bringing in coffee. Mom will look up and smile because you can't help it when you see his face.

But I can't wait for that. I don't want to hear this. You know, I never used to be this tired before. But what can I do besides sleep? And it'll be a pleasant release from this waking nightmare.

Trapped in a Torture Chamber Part II

Dreamless sleep is nice. If only I could stay asleep forever. At least the black void of sleep is better than this self awareness. Yes, someone is definitely crying. Her sobbing woke me up. I hate this. The suffocating nothingness is attrocious. But I can't sleep anymore.

Knocking? Where am I? That lady is trying to compose herself. I can hear her footsteps on the floor. It's made of linoleum or something of the sort. Hmm, the door sounds farther away from my feet than I thought. At least, from where I think my feet are. Hell, for all I know, my body has been chopped to bits. It's not like I can see it and know if that's a lie.

"Ma'am, I need to check his vitals."

Who is that? I don't know her voice. Am I in a hospital? I must be.

"Yes, yes, that's fine."

Shit, it's my mom. I must look really bad if she's been crying that hard. Where's dad? He should be holding her, reasusuring her that I'm fine.

"Everything appears the same, ma'am."

"I want to speak to the doctor."

That was surprisingly harsh. Mom is never rude to people.

"I can get the doctor, but he will tell you the same thing. His condition hasn't changed."

"I want to speak TO THE DOCTOR."

Jeez, scary! Mom never uses her "mom voice" on anyone. Accept me. Haha, I'd love to see the look on that nurse's face right now. Mom can be scary when she wants to, but usually not in public. How bad am I?

"Alright, I'll get the doctor."

"Thank you."

Do I even want to know what's wrong with me? But the better question is, where's dad? He wouldn't just leave her. Is he at work? No, he couldn't be. If I'm bad enough for mom to be acting the way she is, then dad would miss to be here. So where is he?

I hat this, being trapped in my head with nothing but sound to keep me company. But how would she know I'm okay? I can't speak, can't move, can't feel. Just hear. It's like a new form of torture made to make me lose my mind.

Ha! What an interesting thought, losing my mind. Trapped here with myself and whatever I become. It could be the third World War ragging in my head and no one would know. I'd be stuck on this bed, or whatever I'm laying on, just as still as always. Torture.

Gah! My poor mom! If only I could tell her I'm fine. But how do you communicate when all you can do is hear? That's all there is to comfort me - the suffocating black abyss of my mind and sounds from a world that doesn't even know I'm here.

I wish I could do more. Or even have somoeone act as if I was still here. Even if I can't react, it would make it easier. I wouldn't feel as if I was locked inside this wourld of my design. I mean, really. There's nothing here but me. I am held captive in a world that is moving on without me. I can't do anything.

Trapped in a Torture Chamber Part I

I'm dead. I just don't know it yet. Everything is black. I can't feel. I can't move. I must be dead. I don't understand. What happened? Was I sleeping? I don't remember. What do I remember? Uhg, what is this fog? Why do I feel like I'm swimming in molasses? Thinking shouldn't be so difficult. Maybe it's not molasses, maybe it's tar. Or solidifyng cement. Why can't I remember?

Car? Driving? Was I driving? School. I was at school. I can't think. Class, then nothing. At least there's no pain. But I'm trapped in this nothingness. If this is death I've been screwed. It's not much better than life. Just a load of nothing deep within a sea of nothing. Fuck.

Aw shit! What the hell is that?! Sound? Dammit, I'm not dead! But I can't speak. I can't move. Why can I hear? Is that - - is that someone...crying? Who would be crying in my ocean of black? Certainly not me; I can't move or speak or breathe or feel. Uhg. All this effort to drift in this nightmare. Fuck it. Blackness, take me home.

Short Story!!!

Holy canoly!!! I'm writing a short story!!! I will probably put it up in bits and pieces. You'll have to forgive me for the crappy writing, short stories are not my forte. But, I was hit with the force of writing and it knocked me off my feet. So now I've been writing during available moments (lost inbetween times of other necessary activites *sniff*) and working to finish the story because *shockingly* I don't even know what's going on or where it's going. And I'm dying to know how it plays out. So I have to write. But yes, stay tuned and look for a short story because I loves it and hopefully you will enjoy it, too ^.^