It is amazing

How badly one heart can hurt

I feel like there is no way forward

That there's nothing at all

My future feels so far away

Yet so close that I can feel

Every passing second

Of this impending doom

And when they ask me if I'm okay

I nod because what else can I say?

They can't understand

Because they are the reason

I feel this weight

A stack of worthlessness

And despair laid upon

a bed of broken dreams

I want to take it off

Drown it all

In whatever numbing substance I can find

Because my other option is worse

I think it but I'm too much of a coward

And I also believe in God

And in Hell

& in everything that can take me there

Now I understand

Why people without Faith

Find it so easy

To end it all.

In my head, I find tranquility

Within a world of death and depression

I smile to the best of my ability

In my head, I find wickedness

Amongst the joyful crowd

I feel a sense of restlessness

I tell them a story overnight

To help them sleep through pain

And to help their futures be bright

I don't think for me

What I want is what they want

My desires are overrun just for thee

I sin for lust

The thought of love is compelling

Though my methods are not just

In other words, with my fragility

I lose all sense of civility

I will be burned at the stake for my sins

But I smile to the best of my ability

Whippoorwill sings in the darkness of night,

Luring me deeper into the dense wood;

Upon hearing me, its body takes flight.

I continue forward, tinged with fright

If I could catch up I surely would.

Whippoorwill sings in the darkness of night.

Ahead I glimpse the bird, and though it is slight,

I forge ahead in my cloak and my hood.

Upon hearing me, its body takes flight.

I’m almost upon it; the sky becomes light

The whippoorwill vanishes, as in daylight, it should.

Whippoorwill sings in the darkness of night.

Ms. Eberly, enough could I ever be?

Such plentiful pleasantry presented as heavenly existential necessity.

No longer next to me, no longer vexed by excess of my pestering.

For the wall boast the lettering, of all my falls, faults, and feelings left festering.

Forsaken, for life filled with better things.

Forces, establishing courses with coordinates that plot you a future with lots of importance.

Foreseen, for a queen not the likes of a fiend found down on his luck nearly drowned in ravines.

Just a clown in a scene, with a frown and a theme.

Proudly redeemed by the sweat of his brow not the boos or the bows he’s yet to have seen.

Fortune forgets all the steps he has crept, better yet tears he has wept with the years...I would bet now amount to a river or his riverbed.

Forever in debt to the love he once lost, the day he lost his head.

Watched with regret, it was clear that her fear would replace any place he once had in her stead.

Apologies, she probably sees as being misled.

Are all that he’s said, but she’s tired of liars her tires haven’t the tread.

So, despite how he fights she now cuts out the lights and goes straight to bed…

Thoughts being better off dead are better off shed, now he write letters attempting to tether the ties that he severed…but he should have done better, cause his next chance to advance looks to be never….

I first saw thee from afar, across the garden that summer's day

And thought your beauty the fairest in existence

Despite the throngs of maddening circles that stayed

To surround and lure you in disarming persistence.

You were the loveliest of all the flowers that bloomed,

Sweet as the songs the birds did sing high in the trees,

And within my breast, each day and night therein loomed

The purest love and thoughts of thee deep within me.

I adore thee as no other I have ever known or loved,

My heart beckons you with an immeasurable appeal:

Be mine forever and let me call you 'my beloved'

So that you might see this depth of love for you is real.

Thou art the loveliest of all the flowers, a single rose in winter.

Draw nigh to hear me tell thee thus with love filed words so tender.

The Ode for Oliver Dearborne Easterhouse, who died of drugs

Ode for O.D.E.

OD

O.D.E.

I met Death last night.

It was a brief, ever-fleeting thing.

I suppose they're never too fond of sticking at the scene much longer, I can't help but wonder why.

I met Death and asked him about you.

I asked him why he had to take you from me.

You with your messy hair and tiny pretty smile,

You with your little class of stuffies all lined up and all those big, beautiful dreams..

I whisper that you were too young with all the huff-and-puff indignation of a dead body.

I do not blame him, I think he's been blamed enough.

But then again, I never quite knew grief until I lost myself.

I hate you so much

You yelled and screamed and made me cry

Now that you're six feet under my feet

I'm not happy

But I don't regret it

I just walk endlessly each day

Because you left me numb

That's why I hate you