It seems the more I experience

The less it all gets to me

Whether it’s my confusion

Or just symptoms of apathy

The more I know

The more it betters me

But the better I get

The more it tethers me

To a perception of self

I havent yet gained

And it threatens me

Just in the sense

Of what it did

To the rest of me

The life drained

The child gone

And I’m yet to be

Fully emerged

In the person

I was on a quest to be...

But the further I go

The less I question me

The less I get out of bed

Knowing this is what I was meant to be

The less respect for myself

And self empathy

Because I’m the causation

Of this empty me

And that’s evident...

Knowing I’m the one who did this

In pursuit of the eminent

Only hurts more

When I come to realize

That when I look in the mirror

Those aren’t my real eyes

And when I look in the past

I dream to feel mine

And if I looked at me back then

I’m sure I’d take that as a bad sign

As a life gone wrong

In the same sense

A life gone perfectly right

So perfect

I couldn’t even see my own light

Because it was so flawed

I killed it

With sharp claws

And filled it

With a heart drawn

Away from who I really am

Or who I really was

Or who’d I really like to be again

I would love to just die

And wake up as me again

But that’s just speculation

Just speculation

Maybe this pain isn’t that

And I can still find restoration

But that seems unlikely

Because even if I did

I’d still be so unlike me

Because this phase

Was not a phase at all

It was a transformation

And I must face the fall

But I’m still so scared

To face the call

Where I’m told That I died

And I’m not fazed at all

Because at that point

I was dead

Before I was raised at all

And at this point I feel I’m there

Immune to the feelings

Of direction and care

And maybe this whole thing

Has been my eulogy

And when I put down this pen

They’ll be no use in me

And by the time that you’ve read this

At this rate

I’m probably on the dead list

And if that’s fate

At least I fucking said this

It might’ve been late

But if I die now

And still appear alive

At least I have no fear

And my quest survives

he said

"look at me, bitch"

but I knew

I was worth more

than anything he wanted

to put in my mouth

all he would give me

was flesh

and I deserved the stars

she mothered

what he fathered

and we watered

our family

sorrow

till

it

blossomed

like the cactus

that it was . . . .

* . * . * . * . * . *

#LoveSomethingSomeone #Challenge

Morality—

like a hitchhiker

hops aboard

your chassis—

Sits back ’n grins

like a lad, blinks

as a lassie—

Hijacks your wheel!

—to leave you

backseat driving

and buckled stiff

in your kid’s seat—

“Where-We-Going?!”

—you twist and squirm

backward to your

dumb-mute chauffeur

who motions so—

The rules are writ there in the hatch!

—of the dashboard

where you keep that

guide manual—

—childhood to Adult!

Guilt we still fear—

one should just know!

the Right from Wrong

mortal answers—

#Morality #ChallengeInspired

Walking through shadows,

seeing another’s true pain;

lost, to help those loved.

This came to me after reading @chainedinshadow post earlier tonight. If you haven’t, go to her page and read it. https://theprose.com/post/214271/the-monster-of-anorexia

She also made a video: https://youtu.be/STdIENLRygM

(I rarely tag folks for my Haiku’s, I figure if you like’em and see mine, then it’s all good. If you don’t see’em, it’s still good because it’s out there for someone to read.)

Wipe your paintbrush clean

dip it into life

and paint laughter

on your face.

Listen to the silent color

imbue into your soul

voyage through joy

inhale cool spring air

with deep embrace.

Paint your canvas

with new color of life

little bubbles

of ecstacy

warming your spirit.

Let juices of life

run down your chin

in hushed colors.

you're wild

but you're also fragile

take care of your broken pieces

before I tape them whole

there might be creases

there might be cracks

but no matter what

you are beautiful to me

take care of yourself

there is still so much of you

that the world has to see

that I want to see

Sometimes I think

I’ve lived too long -

a thousand years

of turmoil

engraved

on my skin.

Layers of light

rising out of reach,

interlaced thoughts

obscured by fog.

Coldness cleaving

to my soul

in icy daggers.

I look within

and see beginnings

of precious times

still to come -

the future pulses

within my heartbeat

as I feel warmth

of liquid sun

rebounding in waves

of promise.