Sunset on the Soul
Wildflowers grace
the edge of the canyon
Radiant golden,
sun-kissed horizon
Warmth of summer rays
caresses bare skin
That’s cooled by the balmy,
westerly winds
No feelings evoked
when gazing upon
The beauty present
from dusk until dawn
Your heart locked away
without any key
Numbed, to avoid
any more damage, thee
Passing through life
with it all turned to “off”
Anesthetic, the wounds,
comes with a cost
Colors grow dimmer
the longer you’re numb
Until you slow-fade;
soul sets like the sun
Numb
As you walked into the horizon
Smirking at my weakness
Laughing at my fragility
Cruelly rapturing me
then trashing me...
I sink to the ground
Collapse onto my knees
The betrayal is too much
You don't even look back
You leave me behind,
enjoying my pain
I go numb as the sorrow takes over my heart.
As the despair captures me, vowing to never let go.
Do you still feel numb?
If several years ago I had written myself a letter, then I'm sure it would have sounded something like this:
Dear New Lissie,
Do you still feel like that girl who cried herself to sleep? Do you still have to be someone you don't want to be? Have you learned how to talk to people yet? Do you still feel numb? Are you still like me? I hope you're not. I hope that by the time you've read this, you have become someone else. Living like this feels so lonely. I don't know if I could go on if I continued to live like this. Sometimes I wish it had been me instead. I'm the least-liked sibling, so if the one sick was me, then we'd be better off. That's what I think about a lot. Day-to-day life feels so breathlessly numb, and it's felt that way ever since That Day. I know I won't have to specify what day because whether or not I have changed, that is a moment I could never forget. I hope you're happy. I don't think I remember what it feels like to be happy. I hope you can smile again. When people tell me that I look sad, I smile and say that I was just deep in thought. It's not a real smile though. I want so bad to feel okay. I want to feel something. I don't like having to carry all this. I feel like I'm suffocating. I just have hope at this point. I really hope things get better. I hope you're a different person by the time you read this. I hope you have felt happy. Learn to be happy, but never forget me. I feel so little that I don't feel real anymore, and if you forget me then it'll be like I never existed. I know it hurts because I'm living through it, but when it doesn't hurt anymore, you can't forget the hurt. You can move on, but you can't just throw me away. I hope you're happy now.
Don't forget me,
A Different Lissie
Human Museum
Empty...
Silent sculpture
Carved into diamonds
Glittering
Sparkling
With the rays of light
An audience gathers
Admiring lovers
Pointing
Expressions of awe
Sketched onto worn faces
The love in their eyes
The wonder
As they stare
And take pictures
Empty...
Perfect painting
Aligned symmetrically
Colourful and pretty
Hanging on walls
And guided by frames
So elaborately decorated
Displayed for all eyes
To devour
To study
People standing quietly
Curiousity sparking
Pondering abstract meanings
As they stare
And take pictures
Empty emotions
No comprehension
Of the awe and splendor
Surrounding them
The sculpture and painting
Live in the museum
So extravagent and gorgeous
Without even realizing
As they exist in lost sensation
A broken mineral
A scribbled doodle
Hollow inside
For they are not what they portray
A sculpture is molded by steady hands
...That are not its own
A painting is blended by predestined brushstrokes
...That it has not chosen
So the sculpture and painting have no reason
To feel emotions
For the role they are forced into
By the ideals and visions of an artist
As such,
A human wearing a mask
Cannot comprehend
The emotions of the facade they portray
Though it seems to be all they know
Often, we wear costumes
Casted into stereotypes and roles
Act on stages society builds for us
Puppets on woven string
Admiring smiles and loving expressions
As the audience applauds
As they stare
And take pictures
Without knowing our inner emotion,
Without understanding our meaning and purpose,
How can we be anything
But hollow versions of ourselves
That have gone completely numb?
The longer we live, the more superficial we get
In the chains of the human museum
Sculpted and painted by the ideals of others
And not our own potential.
Bitter Freeze
She stands still, looking across the room. She is not alone, friends and family surround her presence, but she stares, nods, and grins. She is present, she is absent, she is not in here or there, she devoid of location. She merely holds space, yet floats without direction in the emptiness of room which is a galaxy of nothing to her. Bitter is the only word that connects to her, its the only word she uses to describe her state. She lacks tactile, instict, visual sense, but she tastes the bitter. The wormswood, brimstone, anise contol the palate, it is her only partner. She is frozen in the bitter.
Numb
As she swallowed her last bite of cake, she felt nothing. You’d expect someone celebrating their fifteenth birthday, surrounded by family and friends, to feel at least a little bit happy, but not her. She was numb to the pain she had experienced on her last birthday. And ignoring it was the only way she was able to get out of bed each morning.
A Punch To The Stomach
Desperate,
and rested...
So many tests- why is this my ONLY best?
The next week is a jumble,
like life’s one big rumble.
Stress, after stress,
here the moon tests.
From this precipice
all the lunar and rampant constellations
coincide,
lies revise,
Wait, shivering sneeze...
a world at peace, yet all this thumping
It must be something, it is always something...
hmph... ‘please’...
Between those matadors in the violent rush of the bloody river
and those behind a somber shade at the bottom of the scaly glades,
there is me;
The dragon of the night,
the one slowly shifting from the
light,
I’ll linger longer lividly.
The cymbals crash ahead of my mashed, and slighly bashed, thinking thing.
“Ring or dong?”
I can’t remember the song,
It goes along a decrescendo,
it has rails as it does a reptilian scale,
to no avail I wail,
this Diamond night covers the greedy tight, hope they feel just right.
Here I am just thinking, a puddle of quick
sand
and
I’m still sinking.
