Hell Is What You Make It
From cognitive thought
is born societal expectation:
The how's, should's and definite no's
We are bred to:
think
act
speak
Coloring outside the lines
is frowned upon.
Frowning is bitchy.
Smiling is expected
if attached to a specific gender.
I don't care for rules
or tools I was told to use.
Resourceful is my middle name.
I don't blame the sheep
for following the shepherd.
The-buck-stops-here
the cycle must
be
BROKEN
the chain - gang - together
to break
FREE
This is our life to choose
what we make of it.
April.
They say April is the cruelest month.
Changes in the air but a sense of despair funnel through the minds of some.
Indecisiveness cloud clarity, a scattered brain with a shower of untamed thoughts thunder loudly throughout the subconscious.
A bolt of awakening reverberating, rippling causing a flood of warning to the chaos storm of life.
On the horizon with it's threat of doom, the rain of reality causes a drop.
The pressure is on.
Life is Pain
A slow suffocating eruption of raw chaos bubbling deep in the bowels of my being.
Choking for breath, grasping for anything that will keep me alive, going, moving forward,
towards something
-anything.
Sharp,
stinging
salty tears
burn
as they slowly fall
from my sunken eyes.
My heavy heart
barely beating from the blows of life
it's withstood.
How do people survive love?
We were an us, until further discussed;
we fell apart.
Here I lie a broken "I."
1 is the loneliest number and I struggle to see a way out of my own despair.
The air is so thin, impossible to breathe.
I can't see, I can't move, I can't eat, I can't.
All I can do is exist in this endless pain and sorrow.
Exist and pray for a new tomorrow.
Today is going to be a good day.
The sensation of pure accomplishment when one rises, well-rested and ready; before the alarm even begins it's hum drum nagging to jolt the day to an all too fast beginning. Feet hitting the floor with a bounce because today is going to be a good day. These days are beyond endangered in my life so when they drift in, you hold them close and appreciate them for all that they're worth. Coffee's prepped, button pressed, the slow drip of that sweet caffeinated smell curling through the air beckoning me to drink of the dark bold cup of life. The days grow longer, the sun greets and meets me with bright rays pulling me even further into the day. Eyes closed as a slow smile spreads across my face, I take in the warm beams around me, radiating in this present joy.
A darkness engulfs me and I fall fast and hard. Intense radiating agony surrounds me. Everything I hear is fuzzy, a real life dial tone with no answer. I try to see beyond the confusion and see nothing but my own despair.