I haven’t written a poem for a while,
Am I hiding my truth, am I in denial?
The lightening in my brain,
Has been woken up again.
It will not be kept silent or still,
Whether or not it’s against my will.
Please be patient with me,
As the words flow easily.
My heart will swell,
My tears will well.
I am afraid of this energy,
What is has in store for me.
Knowing not what it will do,
To convey my point across to you.
My stomach is tied in a knot,
The cause of which I know not what.
Listen close. Can you hear it?
My head tries to fight this shit.
I am fighting a war,
The winner has more.
Am I him, is he me?
So confused by what I see.
I don’t know if I fight myself,
My selfwill left on the shelf.
I don’t know whose side I am on.
Is that decision well past gone?
Are we one, my brain and I?
My heart, my soul, until I die?
Being made to take this bitter pill,
I choke on all the mixed up swill.
I want to run, or else to fight,
To push back hard with all my might.
If the eyes indeed are the window to the soul,
What’s the reverse? Soul sees the Earth as whole?
Does the sole know all, the good and the bad?
What we can’t see, sad, mad, or glad?
What if we listened to all it could tell,
Would it make our lives not quite so like hell?
Is it here to tell us progression’s a must?
To keep check on our greed, our anger, our lust?
I am scared of the thoughts laid out before.
I don’t understand anything anymore.
It’s all a mystery, as yet unknown.
It seems we are clueless, although our knowledge has grown.
It’s unlikely we’ll ever know how all of it works,
The perculiarities of the mind, with all of its quirks.
So will I fight or give in, to all of the pain?
Accept what is what, to try and stay sane?
“I can’t,” says my mind. I’m in too much pain.
I’ve tried to be brave, rationalize with my brain.
“I hope,” now I say, to let some light in.
“But it grows dark, and I cannot win.”
The pain is increasing, I’m trying to stall,
I’m not sure if I’m ready to give up it all.
Those outside this prison, try to change my fate,
But I know the deal, for me it’s too late.
And so I sit, a woman alone,
Unsure when to leave life, and all that it’s thrown.
I am much improved, of that I am sure.
But I’ll always be broken, for there is no cure.
I might learn to cope, but is that enough?
I still feel that I’m drowning, my part is too tough.
I’ll have a good week, and think that I can
Live life as others, every woman and man.
I’m trying to stop writing, these prose in my head,
I want to stop thinking about being dead.
Does that mean I really don’t want to die?
Or just in this moment I cannot say ‘bye’?
What I need to do each and every day
Is get through it in some way.
One day at a time is all I can do.
Any more than that and I’m likely through.
Often I wish I could take my sleeping pill
Three times a day, body and mind would still.
I’d never feel pain and I’d never feel fear,
No anguish, no anger, my mind would be clear.
The bad of plan, its effect on my offspring.
They love me, they need me, not me just sleeping.
I need to show them when life is hard,
We get up, move on, although we are scarred.
I’ll write this down here and know it’s not true,
That I will keep fighting, no matter the fear.
I’ll tell you I’m happy, I’m cool, and I am fine.
You might even believe me, and this lie of mine.
The brain it is sneaky, it plays evil tricks,
It leaves everyone guessing, how it works, how it ticks.
And so I will leave you with this solemn vow,
That I will keep fighting in every way I know how.
Running Half Empty 