These Storms

I thought of you as the rain fell tonight,
the streetlights gleamed in through windows
as we drove down a familiar road.
Droplets creased on the ridges of my face
and hid the tears I held back with bite,
My make-up smudged into pale skin.
With the rain, however, I am not sad
because it reminds me of you for now,
It reminds me that you think of what I am.
You will still find me beautiful like this –
soaked and isolated, alone and lost –
and whenever I come home, you’ll be there.
It’s assurances like you, all of these people,
that I can keep a smile on my mind.
Weaving in and out of this existance I ponder;
when will the suffering of those I love end?
When will the tears stop falling with this rain?
The storm blows itself over and I find my way home,
and there all of you are sitting and embracing me.
Now I know that wherever I may be,
love is a constant, undying concept
That you will always bring to me.

Kerouac Reflected

Deep within a limitless solitude,
the mind quickens where the body cannot
As perceived by those without eyes.
I will redefine these walls,
strewn up around me,
create a defeated personality,
to hinder to desires.
How do you expect God to hear your cries,
when you ignore the others?

To feel endlessly alone,
locked simply in this stanza
Words crawl over my eyes
that the light refuses to bear.

Why does society always constitute,
loneliness with sadness?
I am but in solitude,
slipping between cracks just to escape
But I am never truly alone
because those who love me
are always in my heart.

jagged walls find me here,
planks of rusted nail.
Cool blue painted over to calm this thrashing soul.
I just want to get away from it all
because loneliness brings true conception

so I bleed to escape
a crimson thick of life dries
ideally on my bed sheets
bleed to tranquilize the body
and smoke to get back at salvation.
Life is not empty,
like the company I keep,
but defiled and deceptive
to devote this time to repose.
Outside of this loneliness is the great
feeling of contamination

so to cut is to ripple the substantialality of existence.

Your putting yourself through a cycle of decay,
stop
think
reflect
you will become so sensitive
– everything will be a big event
Reality has lost itself again,
within this wall of solitude
it feels like a greed of ego has ended
—in these halls.
It’s funny;
I would ask you to join me,
but the Wheel
keeps turning.

False Directions

Left.
It is all marsh here, your feet sink in
Eyes feast on the carcass before you,
Your heart races and soul lengthens,
Disgusted with your true nature yet?
Time ticked away with the sun here,
A place less tred upon by sanity-
-pulsations pass through open wires.
All is falling downward, go back.

Right.
A hill so heavy and high you fail
To grasp your feet at its tip,
Forever forced to look upwards
At the place you can never reach.
Depression finds and cuts you,
Bleeding out the good and white,
Fear is certainly undefined,
Left to reach and break to pieces.

Forward.
Doubt fills this glass rapidly
A fire burns so bright your blind,
Pain clouds every part of your mind,
Complexities surround you.
Backwards? You know there is no such way,
You cannot even bear to look there,
Cowardice overpowers this heart,
Your lost within the decisions of yourself.

Hebephrenic Days

so I’m wondering whose playing with spoons,
Singing these songs and strumming out tunes;
Filling our night with some sort of reprise.
Who’s deep within their own disguise?

Just a shadow stuck to our wall,
waiting with decadence to enthrall-
Creasing by with days of madness,
no limits, left all to transgress.

Who is it that treads down our street,
blackened holes that cover her feet,
A daisy in her hair with simple acquiesce,
the one who feels the sky oppress?

Where can I find you, flower girl?
I want to watch you unfurl,
Why is it that you are lost?
I feel your spirit slowly exhaust.

You think it was me now,
this too I disavow,
Can you not notice – I am not here,
at once it becomes so austere.

I do not exist,
Who is it to persist?,
to write and muse,
Never not confuse,
I do not exist,
‘Who are you?’, I insist…