Control - Alt - Delete

Nights so heavy
Days weighted & thick
Worry taking over everything

I swiped it all
My thoughts
My words
My poetry

With a sweep of my
outraged hand
I watched as the
jagged pieces of the puzzle
clattered to floor

Weeping
stained glass wonder
shattering

Control - alt - delete
tap out
reboot
repeat
until
the thoughts
the words
the poetry
were more complete

Back Story

Back story
Second glory

Rewriting a tune
that better suits my soul
Bring the heat
I can take it
Give me the beat
Wildflower feet

Back story
Second glory

Born again
from the wind
& the rain

All that I know
& all that I am
Rewriting a new tune
for that shameful sin

Back story
Second Glory

Goodnight angel
I'm gonna sing again
Bury that worry
Bury that sin

Driving On

Dusty car
window wiper moaning
waiting for the rainy rain; groaning

Driving on
Three quarter tank

I'll be there
Before daybreak

Beating Heart

Inside my own chest
To reach in best
Fingers gripping
That beating entity
Clamping and ripping
Blood trickling down
Droplets soaking in the ground
Trembling hands and shaky arm
Reaching out
Inside my palm
Everything I'm about
My heart given to you
For you to decide what to do

The Burning

On trial
with each new face;
each new set of ears
to hear my story

Like a witch in Salem
Some onlookers want
only the
burning glory
They watch
Waiting for the
flames to reach my hair
Eyes set ablaze
Into the flames
all their idle care

I'm called insane
I'm called daft
As I tie myself to the post
Like a burning host
I'm burning my own blame
Eradicating my own shame
So I tie myself
Time & time again
until the flames burn it all
Each piece of the past
torn off & thrown in
Hands behind my back
Eyes extended to heaven
until all the nightmares
are burned away
my lips mumbling the story
another day

I'm burning
I'm burning away
I'm burning
I'm burning the opaque day
I'm burning
I'm burning a new dream
I'm burning
I'm burning for another seam
I'm burning
I'm burning into night
I'm burning
I'm burning that phoenix into flight

Shackles and Bones

Clinking
Clanging
Rusty chains
Bones just a'bangin

Skinny metatarsal scratching
Sandstone prison catching
Numbered days of a
loveless love

Shotgun wedding
and this cold prison
has no proper bedding

Shackles and bones
Fallen crowns
Empty thrones

Souls filling space
but there is no grace
Filing the papers to say
we're not alone
but this prison
is far from the ideal home

Shackles and bones
Shackles and bones

Tarnished ring
falling with a clanging echo
in endless tones

Ramblings of the Night Before

I was crumpled up on the bedroom floor;
holding my belly and crying out "Dear God. How much more?"
It's the inner, tangled war I rarely discuss.  It turns all my gold
to rust.  My psychosomatic anomaly - where my insides look back
at me like I'm the enemy.  My intestines twist and tangle - creating a
painful strangle.  Every harsh word and every traumatic event seeped
way down deep.  My body's most trusted self defense during a time
when nothing made sense; contract, relax, pull, twist, stretch, block,
pain, pain, pain, numb.  My outer half walks on freely; relishing the
air and sun.  My inner half still wonders and prepares itself - making
ready before any war has begun. It's so like a child that's been beat down.
Intestines crumble in - ready at any given moment for a new trauma to begin.