Depression

Deny the dawn
Defy conscious consciousness
behind lids admittedly less weighty and
reject the responsibilities born with rising shadows.
In cotton womb
evade longstanding contemplation
and obvious solutions
and cry out
for the return
of drug induced bliss!

Exorcism (2013 re-write)

To repel that which has been stealthily insinuated into me

Implanting senses with sentimental gore

I strike

Act

Pull at the asphyxiating gummy substance

cemented around

my organs, my nostrils, my teeth, my lungs, my mouth;

gagged and gagging…

I pull out the stuff

stuff

stuff

stuff

baggage…taunt and insistent;

disabled from laughing or crying 

“Will” meant little, exercised in vain

against your sworn disposition and charms.

Now stuck in a piteous state of self loathing

and anger born from deception

I strive to strike out

at all that was birthed in my mind’s eye

in the hopes of obliterating the memory of you.

To repel that which has been stealthily insinuated into me

Implanting senses and sentimental gore

I strike

I act

Pulling at the substance

age old gum

cemented around

my organs

my nostrils

my teeth

my lungs

my mouth

Gagging…

I pull out the stuff

Stuff

Stuff

Stuff

Baggage…

Taunt and insistent

with neigh the ability

to laugh or cry out at the foolishness of my state

having willingly invited the demon in.

Will.. meant nothing

exercised in vain

against your sworn disposition.

Now stuck in a piteous state of self loathing

and the anger born from deception

I strive to strike out

at all that was birthed in my mind’s eye

by your loathsome influence

in the hopes of obliterating the memory of you

Purge (2013 re-write)

Purge!

Purge!

Purge!

My wretched pen chokes on words I can not perform. 

Myself, my guilt, my passions, my only audience…

my mind, this white glaring page, my amphitheater, 

where doubts and avoided confessions

echo ceaselessly and mercilessly

off defensive canyon walls that conspire against me.

Purge the thoughts

Perish the deed!

The power of “The Word”, words

shadow ghouls of the Eighth Circle 

leave me tattered and shamed by my passive inactivity

and heartened by my silence.

Purge

Purge
Purge

My wretched pen chokes on the words

I can not perform in your presence…

Myself, my guilt, my passions

my only audience…

my mind and this white glaring page

my amphitheater.

Where doubts and avoided confessions

echo ceaselessly and mercilessly

off defensive canyon walls that conspire against me.

The power of “The Word”, words

tare at me like shadow ghouls from lovers’ Hell…

both

leaving me tattered and shamed by my passive inactivity

and heartened by my silence.

Fallacious Regret (2013 re-write)

Sly

Smooth

Silky mofo

I know you

I wanted you

I had you;

witting alone, feeling a sack of used parts

I regret you.

Like a plague of locusts

a carousel of thoughts bombard me;

“I didn’t mean to make contact… should have avoided the trap, snaring me into a catatonic state of blissful denial…! Stuck in our time.. your story, making me reminisce the undone.. the unsaid, and all sort of base bestial and vampiric things; shouldn’t have let you touch me, quickening, like quick silver, the poison in my veins; Touch, Touch, T.O.U.C.H, suspended in time, molten lava touch, making my defenses steam like a fresh carcass. I shouldn’t have displayed myself to your fleshy altar.!”

and I can’t honestly despair now, 

when after all the wet stiffness,

the fantasies didn’t come true;

Now, in the after shock, stewing in denial & guilt

trying to convince myself I was an “accidental” participant of my own demise; capable of blaming no one, 

despising my senses for their vivid support;

I cringe from the me

that embraced the Devil…

and Liked it!!

Sly

Smooth

Silky mofo

I know you

I wanted you

I had you

Sitting alone, feeling a sack of used parts

I regret you.

Like a plague of locusts

A carousel of thoughts bombard me…

“I didn’t mean to make contact… should have avoided the trap of your face

Your eyes snaring me into a catatonic state of blissful denial…!”

Stuck in our time.. your story

Making me reminisce the undone.. the unsaid

And all sort of base bestial and vampiric things

I shouldn’t have let you touch me

Quickening, like quick silver, the poison in my veins

Touch

Touch

T.O.U.C.H

Suspended in time

Molten lava touch

Making my defenses steam like a fresh carcass.

I shouldn’t have displayed myself to your fleshy altar.

I shouldn't despair now…

When after all the wet stiffness

The fantasies didn’t come true…

Now.. in the after shock

Stewing in denial & guilt

I sit here

Trying to convince myself

I was an accidental participant of my own demise…

Capable of blaming no one

Despising my senses for their vivid support…

Cringing from the Me

That embraced the Devil…

And Liked it!!