Holding Hands with Madness

Tell me,

Would you understand if we did not hold hands today?

Loving would be simpler, if I did not stumble over the words…I am afraid to say.

You see, the madness pepper sprays the sanity.

The sanity…handcuffs honesty.

Honesty in the end, uses her nails, sharp as a coyote’s pointed tooth, to pull wallflowers off the wall.

You see, I am not feeling myself today.

Something, I am sure you already knew.

Madness is just something I go through.

Thin Line Between Today N Tomorrow

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“Perhaps some day I’ll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.” – Plath

A wizard, he hovered over the open gas can with…a well lit cigarette.

A ghost from summer’s past…she drove, as though, the heavens were on fire.

Believing destiny can out ride desire.

I cannot shove the madness aside.imageedit_4_9303855981

It is rock heavy with conceit.

Daily a witness to death defining acts.

I am punch drunk from insanity…

Even true love avoids the facts.

As I walk the only road…I have ever been down…

The one that is elusive… and as of yet, untold.

I watch, as my own inevitability protrudes.

Heading down into uncharted foliage.

So vast there is no looking  back…imageedit_5_7351757917

Life, death, is also avoid-ant of the facts.

What She Means to Confess

Her way to stay sane.

Her way to become mad.

Her way to inspire.

Her way to remove the plain.estranged 1

She is the seductive curve posing in a devil’s empowering dress.

The manners of a full-lipped villain.

When she dips on bent knee, to confess.

Whilst dangling on the threads of word.

She brushes my skin.

With contemplation’s I had never heard.

 

Here and there…

no relief from indifference among the solitary prison besetting a mind.

I cannot leave.

Nor, do I want to.

I am suited

by leaving the outside world behind.

 

 

 

yellow wallpaper
As for mother Eve – I wasn’t there and can’t deny the story, but I will say this. If she brought evil into the world, the men have had the lion’s share of keeping it going ever since.

may sarton
I feel like an inadequate machine, a machine that breaks down at crucial moments, grinds to a dreadful hault, ‘won’t go,’ or, even worse, explodes in some innocent person’s face

 

 

 

 

joan armatrading love and affection
That’s when the music started
I heard the light switch click
I stumbled on a lost shoe
The fever’s starting
This man was getting hot
I got no strength to make him stop
I guess it’s too late
But I’ll know next time
To mix some water with the wine         

Superficiality and Sanity

Why would anyone wait?

As though, a film of dust dilutes the mind.

Leaving only dramatic pause.

Or…

Climatic sensibility to celebrate.

I ramble astray…in the revelation of each new day.

Nevertheless, a jaded lady often stands in my way.

How crazy?

To feed the madness.

Freeing,frenzy.

In a two-way conversation.

Among the animals and balmy breeze.

A certain humbleness lightens an idealistic soul.

The humanness of my distraction…

An easily portrayed role.

I must not mistake great floods.

As removal of my illusion of opulence.

In turn, a mirage of speculations in a book.

Nor…messages on a wall.

In the smallness of reprieve,

everything stands.

And,

everything falls.

Backwood Indifference

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No assurance, with an azure sky.

As above,

in cobalt when blown in.

A contrasting hue.

My souls conflict only slightly subdued.

All my changes still ahead of an unsteady mind.

Neither a twitch.

Nor,

a nervous tic,

mine to refine.

Hopefully nothing but an admonishing sign.

Protected society of timbered blunders.

Temporary insanity.

In the woods designed to comfort.

Not in the least,

an easy role to play.

The earthy meandering fool.

Vicarious living outside the rules.

Unpredictable.

But somehow, fitting just right.

A game of chance with this thing called, life.