Ascending

Colluding to time and age
Acting Complicit, dimming the rage,
The fist of anger and damnation
Slamming down, smashing shame
With frustration,
No sleep interrupts constant processing
Of survival,
Plan A plays out to normality and failure
Premature death subscribes maps to the mind,
Once written that’s where pain lies,
Blood behind the eyes
Talking blind,

Mumble of a foreign language
Where demons understand the cry
Of a fallen Angel,
No more to question why,
Give in lawfully to the bonds
That seek havens of wrist and foot,
Just change my love, easier to submerge
With the thorns,
Accept crown of horns,
Release pain, succumb to relief,
Let eyes view stars that dance in the mist,
Sleep my dear, and life will seep
Like falling blood purifying the wrist.

Singled Out

Being alone
Means pretence intimate to everyone,
No congregation
No groups,
Acknowledging all to their fronts
And backs.
Dont try to recruit me,
I shall nod in agreement
Smile to agree
Then I shall walk away,
And will not follow.

I will not fight for nothing
Other than blood.
My decision is final,
I will only rest on my own,
Woken loud to nerves in company
Flowing through the emotions
Until escapism takes hold.
I am only real and fluid,
As I take flight to seek isolation.

Untitled

Choosing demons over loves,
Making deals with invisible allies
Who you believe will serve you right
Not serve up pain in longevity.

Non-belief of close ones hit their peaks
Freaking over the words,
Rebounding over and over,
Until rage blurs the lines of empathy.

Possessed and obsessed
A combination that kills millions,
And left many more stranded,
Empty handed.

There is either no end
Or a quick end,
Both a torture to the victim,
The perpetrator, and the fool,
Three acts playing out
In one mind.

How can one soul survive in this environment
And live unscathed,
Not in isolation, no, they will die alone,
This life needs help,
This life needs to be saved.

Limbo

A nights sleep and the heart pumps bigger
Now what hits is the constant trigger

My skin is so wet, and my nerves are soaked
My soul is flat, and my will is choked

I feel there is light, I feel heat in my eyes
A brighter appearance brings up a good cry

I put down the bottle, throw down the cork
Open the door and skip as I walk

The outlook is clearer, different and real
Feels like the air, has shook off its chill

A smile breaks free, wide and thin
The combined warmth, comes from within

Another same day, from beginning to end
Half wearing the mask, half full of pretend

One extreme to the other, to which I seem bound
Desperately searching, for some middle ground.

Justice

We support the stalker who talks
The criminal who openly commits and walks,
While the victim, who is now free in body,
Is bound by invisible chains.

Perpetrator allowed to seduce and slither
While Victims belief dies, and withers.
A monstrosity carried out by a coward
Who thrives on toxic environments,
And plans constantly to move forward.
Receiving choice and chances
Of new identity with mundane history,
A lie to cover the new strangers mystery.

Victim has to see same scarred reflection,
Alone, wanting, helpless and useless,
Forever tainted and painted as damaged.
Meanwhile perpetrator smiles next to their uniformed entourage of protection,
Their defence paid in advanced, and managed.
Worse case scenario housed with a collection, of equal law breaking colleagues,
And looked upon with affection, and admiration.

Victims spirit falls away with surrender,
As the soul gives in to loneliness.
Becomes forgotten and only statistically remembered,
False empathy from society replaced by false sympathy,
Eyes of sorrow forgotten by tomorrow.

Perpetrator ‘becomes’ infamous and notorious,
Glorified through media,
Released early through rights and masks of good intentions,
Skillfully acted out through reduced years,
Splashing through the victims tears.
Life relinquished from monies of the good,
Allowed to walk in the sun
While victim lives through infinite clouds of judgement,
Jumping scared from their own shadow.

Perpetrator rides high on ridicule and swagger,
Knowing ‘the inside’ wouldn’t change their character.
From authorities who know best,
Given a new identity, new face,
With an underlying feeling, this wont change,
The threads where evil left a trace.

Whispers through doors

We would be lying
If we believe we’re not dying
Best to be ruthless
Not consciously toothless
Arming with facts
How our body subtracts,
Blood steadily thickens
Immune system sickens
Thinning our skin
Fades from within,
The insides lay waste
Soon we will taste
The scent of death
Awash in our breath.

Movement Cracks bone
Awaiting final moan
Lose all doubt
This is the wayout,
Just accept,
Enjoy what’s left
Because we are dying
And very soon,
Our soul will be flying.

Shadow

When people say my name
I’m caught off guard
In my head I’m not approachable
Not expecting anyone to engage.

Question why they’ve open discussion
What’s their motive
Is it because I’m the last resort
Or the more interesting people have left

I’m anxious but glad at the same time
Praying I dont say anything stupid,
On egg shells so they will return,
Desperate to make good impression
The circles, emotions and thoughts that rise to the surface during conversation is immeasurable.

To the normal person its every day
To me it hits the seismic scale Of anxiety
My mind takes me through the talk
Summarising if I spoke out of turn
Or brought Shame upon myself.
Will they return for act two, or is once is enough.

Maybe one day I will listen to what they say and not heighten my feelings to my own responses,
Before the questions have been asked.

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