A simple reminder..

Tags

beginning, chaos, Faith, hope, life, poem, poetry, rebirth, words, writing

In the ashes left by chaos

Rests a possibility

That when nourished

By hope can blossom

Into something

Stunningly beautiful

A simple reminder

That even in darkness

There is always reason

To cling to the smallest

Spark of faith

Igniting a new beginning

—

Hopeless…

Tags

Haiku, life, Memories, mental illness, poem, poetry, sadness, tears, words, writing

In the dark I cry

There is no peace in madness

Hopeless lunacy

—

 “Are you awake?” She whispers. “Yes.” “I’m sorry.” “I know.” “Do you hate me?” “No, I’m just tired.” “Are you going to leave me?” “Kaki, no, you’re stuck with me.” She exhales slowly.  “I love you, you know?” “I know.” “I don’t mean to act so…crazy. It’s just sometimes things in my head get all mixed up.” “I understand, now get some sleep.” She snuggled in and rested her head on my chest. “You are my hero.” Her voice heavy with medication trails off into slumber. “I love you too.” I say softly as the tears fall silently onto my pillow .

It is dark and still now. I can hear the sound of her soft rhythmic breathing beside me. That sound means I have won this round. I have defeated the demons that haunt her and forced them back into the darkness. I wonder how many more battles I can fight for her, how many more wounds I can stand before I become to weak to carry her back for the madness. How many more wars will I wage before we both become to broken to care?

—

“And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off? Or pretending? He let them fall.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

She lingers..

Tags

Haiku, loss, Memories, poem, poetry, relationships, sadness

Her scent still lingers

She is in every shadow

 I long for her touch

 —

I sat cross legged at the foot of the bed watching her flutter from place to place like a hummingbird looking for the perfect flower. I could see the worry on her face. “Do you want to rehears again?” She stopped in mid step and rolled her eyes. “Oh please, we have rehearsed it five hundred times already! I know exactly what I am going to say, how I am going to say it and when.” Placing her hands on her hips she give me that I need you to reassure me look. “But the point is you don’t have to say it at all.” With that she threw herself into my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. “I love you.” She whispered in my ear. “But we both know I have to do this, not only for us but for myself.” She untangled her self from my lap and started back across the room. “What if I can’t do it? What if the words won’t come out or come out wrong?” “Then we will just continue on as we have. I kinda like being your dirty little secret.” I grinned and she blushed.

—

“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”
― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

paparazzi..on a lighter note

Tags

fame, famous, Hollywood, life, paparazzi, poem, poetry

Liquid laughter fills the air

An automatic response

Yet

The joke was on them

The price they pay

For

 Being seen

In the right place

By

The right people

For the wrong reasons

—–

 ”The public wants raw and real and that’s what we give ‘em. Let me tell you something, my friends, we’re the last of the real hunters.”

Calling all readers, aka bookworms..

Tags

authors, books, favorite, read, reading, recommen, summer

As the sun has turned hot and the days long I am reminded that it is time to accumulate a stack of book on which to wile away the summer afternoons. I am in hopes that some of you will share with me your favorite reads that I might partake of a few of them.

If you don’t have a book in mind, share your favorite authors with me.

I am open to any and all recommendations and I appreciate your input!

Let the reading begin.

—

Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.  ~Charles W. Eliot

Shh..

Tags

death, grief, Haiku, loss, Memories, poem, poetry

She still speaks to me

In the words left unspoken

A ghostly whisper

—

I had been laying in my bed for days and had planed to stay there forever but the incessant knocking on the door was maddening. “Go away!” I yelled from under my pillow. “Get the hell up and let me in. I have something for you.” He yelled from the other side of the door.

 It had been two weeks since her funeral and my wounds where still fresh. I rolled over and stared at the chair by the window where she would  sit and give commentary on the bird activity in the back yard while I got ready for class. “I hate that damn chair.” I muttered as I made my way to the door.

 I flipped the latch and he pushed past me. “God you look awful!” He snarled. “Won’t you come in?” I fired back in my best sarcastic voice. “What do you want? I don’t feel like company.” “That’s obvious. You look like…” “Don’t say it.” I snapped. “Look I have something for you.” With that he walked over and placed a small package on the table. “It came in the mail yesterday. It’s from her family.” “Why are you bringing it to me? They sent it to you.” “Yeah, well we both know that I was nothing more that a figurehead, and her best friend, someone she could show off to her family but she loved you. So I figure anything in this box rightfully belongs to you.” He gave me that puppy dog look that she loved so much and I couldn’t help but smile. Thank you where the only words I could manage to get out before the tears started to burn my eyes. He reached out and wrapped me in his arms. “It’s going to get better. It’s just going to take time.” He whispered.   I just nodded into his chest but I knew he was wrong. I knew that on the day she took her life something inside of me died too and it was never going to be okay again.

 —-

“Of all the words of tongue or pen, the saddest are those…it might have been.”

Sting..

Tags

death, Haiku, loss, momories, poem, poetry, relationships, sadness, suicide, words, writing

I waited for hours

Standing alone in the rain

Tears unseen still sting

—

It was three in the morning, I know because I had been watching the clock for hours waiting for the phone to ring. When it finally did it startled me and it took two more rings for me to catch my breath and answer. The voice on the other end sounded strange and distant but I knew who it was and why he was calling. “I need you to be awake, are you?” “Yes, I haven’t slept. She didn’t get off the bus, I waited, but she wasn’t on the next one either.” “Listen, she’s not coming back. Her dad called me and wanted me to let you know that he found her this morning in the barn.” “Wait!” I screamed into the phone. “I know, you don’t have to say it, I know.”  There was some part of me that believed if he didn’t say the words she wouldn’t be dead, that there is still a chance that if I waited she would fine her way back to me. “Look, we both knew this was coming. Just listen to me will you? Her dad said she was the happiest he had seen her in years and that they had a wonderful visit but this morning when he went to her room she wasn’t there. He went to the barn to look for her. There’s no easy way to say this, she hung herself.” With that his voice cracked and the reality of the words hit both of us. “She left a note, “Sorry, I tried.” What the hell kind of note is that?” He managed to say between sobs. “It’s her kind.” I replied and disconnected the call.

I knew exactly what the note meant but that didn’t matter now. She was gone and I was left with a hole in my heart. I stripped off my night-shirt and I walked out the back door into the rain. I turned my face to the sky in hopes that the rain would wash away the hurt but even in the rain the tears still stung.

 Moments from the past can catch you off guard. They can wash over you and flood your mind and body with such intense emotions that you are completely consumed by them. There is no mercy in these memories, no compassion just the raw undeniable truth.

 ——

“If wild my breast and sore my pride,
I bask in dreams of suicide,
If cool my heart and high my head
I think ‘How lucky are the dead.” 
― Dorothy Parker

For just a moment..

Tags

children, dream, firefly, happiness, laughter, Memories, night, poem, poetry, words, writing

I dreamt

Of diamond stars

And a Mikado moon

Of naked feet

On a St. Augustine carpet

And fireflies that floated

Among the trees

While children

Armed with tiny hands

Where enticed to join

Their hypnotic dance

And excited laughter

Became the music

That filled the air

With hope

Of possessing

For just a moment

The twinkling magic

In a Mason jar

Borrowed

From grandmother’s

Pantry

 —–

Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives. ~William Dement

Ah the weekend..endless possibilities

Tags

Family, Friday, fun, Haiku, life, poem, poetry, Saturday, Sunday, weekend, words, writing

Saturday sparkles

A plethora of pleasures

Passes too quickly

——-

I live for the weekend.

On Friday afternoon the world takes on a special kind of magic. Everything seems lighter and brighter. People smile and mean it. The stress of the week suddenly melts away. There is a crackle in the air, as the earth pulsates with electricity that flows right through the ground and up your spine. Every cell is energized and ready to embrace life!

 Saturday brings with it a lazy morning, a good read and time spent tangled in the embrace of family and friends. It offers endless possibilities, adventures ripe for the picking. All you have to do is decide which fruit you want to savor.

 Sunday, a different breed, a day used for church, chores and family meals. A day to reflect and prepare for another week, a day to dream of the next weekend!

—–

Have a fabulous weekend.

Unmasked..

Tags

Depression, Haiku, idea, impressions, mental illness, opinion, poem, poetry, symptoms, view

An unexplained hurt

An invisible force field

Depression unmasked

—————

What my depression feels like

Some days

 I have to fake my laughter

I have to hide my tears

I feel like I am being suffocated

Like there is a bolder sitting on my chest

It’s as if nothing is real

Its like living in a never-ending nightmare

It’s overwhelming sadness

It’s lying so no one knows

It’s as close to death as you can feel without dying

But not every day, some days are good and those are the ones that make life livable

————

some un-clinical symptoms of depression

• Things just seem “off” or “wrong.”
• You don’t feel hopeful or happy about anything in your life.
• You’re crying a lot for no apparent reason, either at nothing, or something that normally would be insignificant.
• You feel like you’re moving (and thinking) in slow motion.
• Getting up in the morning requires a lot of effort.
• Carrying on a normal conversation is a struggle. You can’t seem to express yourself.
• You’re having trouble making simple decisions.
• Your friends and family really irritate you.
• You’re not sure if you still love your spouse/significant other.
• Smiling feels stiff and awkward. It’s like your smiling muscles are frozen.
• It seems like there’s a glass wall between you and the rest of the world.
• You’re forgetful, and it’s very difficult to concentrate on anything.
• You’re anxious and worried a lot.
• Everything seems hopeless.
• You feel like you can’t do anything right.
• You have recurring thoughts of death and/or suicidal impulses. Suicide seems like a welcome relief.
• You have a feeling of impending doom – you think something bad is going to happen, although you may not be sure what, and/or…
• …You have a very specific fear that torments you constantly.
• In your perception of the world around you, it’s always cloudy. Even on sunny days, it seems cloudy and gray.
• You feel as though you’re drowning or suffocating.
• You’re agitated, jumpy and anxious much of the time.
• Your senses seem dulled; food tastes bland and uninteresting, music doesn’t seem to affect you, you don’t bother smelling flowers anymore.
• Incessantly and uncontrollably into your mind comes the memory of every failure, every bad or uncomfortable experience, interview or date, like a torrent of negativity.

(source)  WING OF MADNESS INC.