emotions

Uncomfortably Numb

I am numb
yet I feel everything so powerfully
so deeply
that my bones ache
and my veins throb
and my head weighs down my fragile neck

I am numb
and I know not how much more I can take
how much more these shoulders can carry
and these hands can grasp
that have lived to see so many days
but have never felt alive

Temporary;
Quick and painful
like the way you went from
holding my hand to
holding my throat
like the instant joy and
sadness you could make me
feel
turning me on
and off like a light switch
like the hole
your absence punched into
my heart
when I only wanted
your presence
and all that I had ever felt
came bursting through the flood gates

Temporary;
Short and sweet
like the way your lips wrote
love poems on my
neck and left me
breathless
like the sound of your
tired voice calling
me ‘baby’
like the fire you
lit in my
heart that tried to
keep me warm

Temporary;
Like the way you
said you loved me
that never had
me convinced

A Weight of its Own

I used to feel an aching sorrow
in my chest
as if every mistake I had ever
made had been piled on top
of me

and although I have since been
relieved of that weight
I do no feel light
I do not feel free
Like a soaring bird heading
to find warmth

all I feel is anticipation
for a journey to a
destination I am still
uncertain of
and that is a weight
of its own

Inconsistency

It comes in bursts,
like the rising and falling
of a fickle storm
with no end or
destination,
and like a storm
It is wet and violent,
treacherous to
those nearby
and beautiful to those
who watch from
their windows,
blissful and far removed.
Sometimes I seek comfort
in the storm;
in the rage, the tears,
the spiraling thoughts
and emptiness I do not
wish to feel, yet
it is all I have ever
felt. And we all
cling to the familiar.

Seed of Hate

I have seen the likes of men like you, who walk here on the shore

I have seen the way you fan yourselves as you dance from door to door

And in spite of all the hate I muster in my heart so small

There is nothing I would rather do than crush the seed of all

I have seen the hearts you stomp on as you hold you heads up high

I have seen the flags you wave around as they billow in the night

And no matter how the anger flows inside me, I stand tall

There is nothing I would rather do than crush the seed of all

I have seen the captured souls of men who lay there still this night

I have seen the fellows bleed there in the cold and quiet light

And regardless of their injuries, I have done no wrong at all

There is nothing I would rather do than crush the seed of all

Another Stomach Ache

There is a disease that has consumed me
A disease some might call love
Others, infatuation
Yet this foolishness
This gambling of emotions
Is only ever temporary
Soul mate is a rather nonsensical term
And all you ever did for me
Was make my stomach ache

It could only ever be you

And of course it was you I dreamt of
when my hands were tired
and my face went numb
and nothing at all seemed to matter
to the hopeless eyes
that watched the light slowly fade
and trickle into darkness.

It could only ever be you
that my thoughts drifted to
and grasped too tightly,
too firmly,
that even the darkness began
to resemble light
and the blade felt too much like your hand
to notice the difference between
blood and sweat
and what it feels like to be dying
or simply falling asleep

Sometimes

And sometimes it still hurts.
Sometimes I still feel the lingering sting of it all,
a memory long gone, slowly fading, but still within sight.
And sometimes I have nightmares about you
that give me shivers and cold sweats,
the image of your screaming face still imprinted in my mind.
But you were poison oak and my skin was much too fragile
to make it out unscathed.
And sometimes I can still feel the bruises you left behind,
jamming my fingers into them,
as they weep like tiny stab wounds.
And I am left here,
still trying to wipe your name from my tongue,
and oh how bitter it tastes.

Scattered

Scattered
As if every thought
Every stream of consciousness
Is to no avail
And I know not who I am
I have only ever learned
To examine myself in pieces
Lost fragments of time and space
That do not quite match up anymore
But my puzzle is beyond scattered
So far lost and broken
That to start anew
Would be much more sensible
Than to search for myself
In the nooks and crannies
Of this mundane world
Straining to see
The distant pops of color
That might still be lingering
Somewhere within
The soiled depths of my mind