Ticking Hands, Taking Hands


Tick, tick, tick
The time passes by
Minutes are leaving
Never to return
This little clock
So haunting
Is it mocking
Cursing me
Everything runs away
Never to return
Lost
Alone
Wanting something
Something more
Oh, cruel hands
They do nothing
Nothing but take
In my silence
You shout
Shout at me
Reminding me
Remember
All the things lost
Gone
Never to come again
Tick, tick, tick…

Her Shade


She was haunted. Haunted by a ghost of the past that seemed more a ghoul.
It shattered her belief in safety, reliance on any other being.
The daft spirit gave her no rest, especially in the dead night.
Her dreams became nightmares and only she could hear the screams.
Poltergeist by a force unseen by all with one exception, her.
It fed off of the fears that poured out from within her.
Will she die alone and lonely with only this shade to morn you?

Chained by the Past


Why dream
Why close my eyes
To face nothing but nightmares
To be haunted
Terror absorbing me
Shear terror
Awakening in shock
Covered in a cold sweat
Shaking body
No comfort for me
Surrounded by darkness
Alone with my despair
I cannot remain in this place
Yet I can not seem to move
Frozen with fear
How do I escape this pain
How do I get out of the past
It seems it will never leave me
It will never release me

With a How


What is called when you want to live, but yearn to die?
What are the words to use when none can describe?
Why does the keep hurting even after the time has gone?
Why must I live those days on a constant repeat?
When these wounds heal, or close, or vanish from sight?
When will my memory recall the joyful times alone?
Where is the place to rest away from haunting dreams?
Where the darkness rest I seem to always be…
How do we fight a seemingly hopeless battle?
How am I to live when I really want to fade away?

Forced to Remember


What is this feeling, more than fear?
Encompassing my mind, body and soul.
Enveloped in a darkness, a shattering sense.
Holding myself tightly, keep me together.
I will fall apart, disappear, fade away.
It keeps getting darker.
I can not seem to breathe.
Life is not so simple, to just be okay.
Will it stop, will it end?
The circle, a cycle that continues to spin.
Am I dying here, within my skin?
Just a broken memory.
These demons will not run away so easily.
How shall I live when the pain is invisible to eyes?
Can you heal a wound that is deep inside?
In places no one can see, hidden from even me.
Maybe just a bit longer.
Just moment more.
If I awake today, perhaps I shall try once more.

What Develops in Darkness


I never knew you could have dreams that were hopeful.
I couldn’t understand that nightmares were not the place to rest.
I had no idea what my life could be if there had been light.
To live that way,
To believe that was all there was,
What a sad existence.
That is what I was,
Every since I can remember,
That broken.
How can you be alive in this world excepting that truth?
This reality of mine was an horror to behold.
A strange world to develop ones dreams and hopes.
Well,
Did I ever really have those…

Markings, Reminders


Imprinted upon my very souls

Lines etched deeply in my heart

Carved by the times I didn’t have a way

Can you even imagine

An event so traumatic

The images play on repeat

As if they were yesterday

The tragedies of life can pile high

Taking away pieces of me

Leaving seemingly nothing left

You may be thinking

Just move on, get over it

Already

Not on hurt

Or even two

But maybe to scale

A hundred or so to begin with

Each a mark on my being

Trying to live

To not be defined by it all

To more than just survive

And give hope even to those who terrorized me

So every day I work it through

Try so so hard to let it go

To release the white knuckle grasp

Holding on for dear life

And through most of it

Not wanting to be alive

Death and darkness were my dearest friends

And now each day I battle

Taking back the stolen fields

The happenings of my sound mind

To revive a broken heart

Takes more than time

And the when is a point in my life

That is undefined

Can you at least just take my hand

Walk with me awhile

Along the shoreline

The battered land I reside in

Please love this unlovable piece

For this me is all I have

A War Waged Unprepared


I stole myself away before there was nothing left to take.

My heart lay in shattered ruins, the once beautiful city so bright.

Brittle, broken shards of life lingered at my feet.

My soul hung from a tree, the rope drown tightly about the life force.

Is that gruesome thing by the city gates the heart which once rested within my breast?

How could I have let this carnage take place here?

Why was there nothing to defend the most delicate of places there?

I was not prepared to live in the dark and tangled world of bleak despair.

The bloody battle raged for years with nothing I could do.

Tools needed to prepare oneself for such a war I did not have.

But now I am here, in the midst of this ruined city, surrendered.

To my maker, the founder of my foundation.

A hope beyond this refuge pile that seemingly continues grow.

With the maker of beauty in progress I know the future is bright.

I know for sure that something full of light is on the way.

After all this blackness consume, to be refreshed is inspiring.

One day I will find myself shiny and new.

All that I will know shall be of he who has made me whole.

Was It Me


Did I Wait to long to heal?

Was it too much to just hold as I was? Broken and frail.

Was it all my fault for being hurt, for being shamed?

What could I do?

I had nothing to work with.

There was nothing in me. Nothing at all.

I was nothing. I am nothing.

This is the Battle I fight every moment of every day.

So why couldn’t you love me?

This is me.

A broken porcelain doll, shattered on the floor.

Invisible Mountains and Valleys


There were days I couldn’t climb the ladder,

Or was I even on it at all?

It seems as if I climb so many mountains,

Never reaching the next,

Maybe I had conquered them all.

I seem to be repeating at times,

Falling into valleys, deeper then one should go.

No one can see me here,

Climbing all alone.

Not one person can really understand,

All this sorrow I have born.

The distances I have traversed,

Places I have seen,

In darkness and shadow.

It can be told of all the depths I was pulled out of,

The heights to which I had climbed.

This story of great,

The triumphs and falls,

Are written here on the scars,

The scars on my heart.