Living inside my head


Gnawing at thoughts these tiny little creatures,

Scuttling all over, pricks sometimes

Those pointy meddling feet, numerous

In composition. Hurt

Comes at unexpected times.

Somewhere drips bleeding, and I

Think to myself that

People are meddlesome insects and I

Find solace only in my thoughts, so

Loyal and so intimate.

Walls have been built and I

Wouldn’t know where to begin to

Dismantle them, nor

If I would ever want to, the

Naive and trusting thing that I am, the

Humble clay walls that I’ve built,

Often misunderstood

For Citadels of pride.


Find my thoughts to be my friends and they

Keep me occupied enough, conversing

In varied tones, I

Live inside my head.


In blood and bone


Accused of a distant past,

Painful old memories flitted across the mind,

Memories long buried emerged out of their graves

Stabbed with their soiled daggers, pointed chest-wards

Their crystal blades,

Shattered inside the flesh, left splinters

Stuck inside the festering wounds.

Whispered conspiracy oozed, feelings

Of estrangement, loneliness long suppressed

Insecurities raised their rotting heads

And cackled,

Insides crumpled like burning dry leaf at the sound.

The world remains uncertain and the only certain thing was lost

Once upon a time and found again, I know I had the trust

I had the faith all along

And yet,

I stand to be tested, over and over again.

If feelings had colors, if they could be scanned

Mine would be blood red from all the blows I’ve had

Yet in soft cool blue letters, our story would be told

And faith carved in blood along the ivory bones.

Carrying on….

Future smiles with outstretched arms


Run like a child,seeking warmth

Of its mother’s safe arms.

But in my careless haste,sometimes

I scratch myself on the briers that line my way

I trip,feet bound with lies, I fall

In to snares laid with deceit,

Run a stake or two through the heart, I bleed

I cry, I scream,I curse, my trust

It shatters with the fall,sometimes

I cut myself on the shards,I fear

I may never trust again.

Yet I stand,I gather myself,

I smile through the pain,I walk through the rain.

Battle wounds run deep,they sting,they hurt

But they heal

With time. Yet sometimes,

I think I will die, bleed myself to death and yet

I survive.

Wounds turn to scabs, scabs turn armor

Valuable stuff these scars, they serve as maps

Of where I have been,of what I have survived

The blood that I’ve shed is the rouge on my lips

The tears that I’ve cried are the pearls around my neck

I wear my kind deeds,they are the garlands in my hair

My perfume is sweet,it is my virtue that I’ve preserved.

I stand tall,I run swift

I run like the wild black mare unleashed,

My limbs ache,I ail sometimes

Yet I battle demons,ward monsters,beware

My wounds become armor,my scars become shields,

My heart survived blows,becomes stronger still

I am what I am,I’ve braved many storms

My faith is strong, I’ve always

Always carried on.