Posts Tagged ‘ Pain ’

What Do We Do? – Poem

What do we do? Usually drink. Usually laugh. Usually play.
I fight against it. Fight for control.
The phone drops, the control clatters to the floor with it
A storm begins and flood defences fail
Sandbags wash away, barriers collapse
The tide comes in, the rain pelts down
Flash of light. One. Two. Growl low within me
As the darkness dawns, floods flow higher.

What do we do? Usually drink. Usually play. Usually laugh.
The storm sets in on my heart and I sink lower
Rain is rising, carpet comforts me, prevents my heart drowning
And then his arms, I grab on for my life
He’s my swimming aid, my rubber ring wrapped ‘round
The thoughts set in as selfish sobs escape
I think of them, yet I fear for me
I mumble and stumble, he cooks and cares
What will I do without you?

What do we do? Usually drink. Usually talk. Always laugh.
Mind is vacant, needed that way
Need to be empty: No thoughts, no feelings, no tears
I walk the streets of youth, eyes filling, near spilling
With each step, I pound the concrete hard
My memories of me. Of us. Of her. Banished.
Repeat the words, they’re all that exist:
What do we do? Usually drink. Usually dance, usually… Bubble.
Keep on and on, nearly there now.
What do we do?
Block everything else, nothing exists.
Only the words.
Usually dance. Usually drink.
Autopilot, these streets are mine.
What do we do?
Keep going. Nearly there.
What do we do?
Few more steps, keys in hand.
Usually – home.
© May 2008. The italics are “taken” from a single titled Wearing my Rolex by Wiley, which was released on 5th May 2008. It is used without Wiley or his record company’s permission, for the purpose of this poem and the original line of the song is: What would we do/Usually drink, usually dance, usually babble. It was the song I was listening to on a journey and the only thing that stopped me completely breaking down, alone in the middle of the street. The babble/bubble thing is just me being unable to hear the words clearly enough, but I like the bubble part!

Amputating the Old – Poem

One day, it was so very simple,
A little nick was all it was,
It barely touched the surface,
A fleeting glance.
There was no blood drawn.
Over time, its roots grew deeper,
Scabbing and crusting over and over,
Becoming engrained and permanent,
A familiar scar.
It was built now to last.
Only rarely can it happen,
Such an accidental contact,
Has such an impact on your health,
A friend’s smile.
What was it like before the mark?
Once in a million, is healing,
All it takes is one little bug,
To gnaw and attack, wear it all away,
A fiendish turn.
Now the wound’s open once more.
Opening wide, the bacteria reproduce,
Serving themselves and eating their surroundings,
And the smell is pungent,
A festering time.
It’s all turned sour. There’s one path ahead.
Owing nothing to modern man,
Medicines and salves are no cure,
There’s only one solution, away from all this pain,
A fiery pain.
The festering, rotting, once-loved scar,
Needs amputating before it spreads.

© 29th December 2011

It’s Going To Hurt – Poem

Peering over the edge and all I see is dark,
Carefully I lean, trying to see the bottom,
It’s all black.

Deep down there, anything could be alive,
Or dead. All I need is to cross the small gap,
I can do it.

The grass doesn’t grow this close to the edge,
Nothing grows within the darkness despite the dank,
It’s just rock.

Crumbling rocks underneath my bare feet,
My toes grip around the dusty remnants,
Long since gone.

Deep slow breaths, building my courage tall,
Close my eyes and just have faith that I,
Will make it.

Flying over the edge, my wings make me soar,
Over the darkest hole and I can see freedom,
Almost touching it.

Burning like Icarus under the heat of the sun,
I plummet and fall, fingers wildly grasping out,
Hold on tight!

The grass is dead, the rocks are weathered,
They break and fall apart under my grip,
Falling down. Down.

Further and further into the dark, lower and lower,
There is no sun, there is no light, there is no life,
Except for me.

Rushing of air as I fall far too fast deeper down,
Soon enough I must reach the bottom, crashing,
Crunching flat.

Regularly on this journey I do travel, wandering,
On the past few, I’ve made it to the other side,
Without any harm.

Not for a while have I plummeted so far down,
To come out on the other side of the world,
And begin again.

Yearning to take flight with outspread wings,
The breeze against my face as I soar higher,
Not fall lower.

The fall is not so lifeless as body parts reach out,
Bloodied stumps point out, lifeless eyes search,
Looking down on me.

Disembodied voices laugh and cackle loudly,
Echoing in the barren air, bursting my drums,
All in my favour.

The Haves stare down, revealing their flights,
Parading it around without a care in the world,
For the Have Nots.

They made it across the voids, made it higher,
Fleeing their nests and becoming a Have,
I remain Not.

Just as the flower wilts without the water,
I, too, am losing my petals, my feathers,
For the Flight.

The darkest bottom is fast approaching,
This time is going to hurt,
I know it.

© 5th July 2011.

Four Simple Letters – Poem

Four simple letters, four simple words.

Perhaps you’re lucky,
And have your dreams,
Instead of fighting daily,
Never quite getting there.

Luck or hard work elevates,
Or at least the piggy nose,
Such is life, they say,
Sorry what? they think.

Feeling below par, beneath all,
And without a drop of luck,
Dreaming dreams of high,
Eventually, right?

Happens it might not,
Or that no one cares,
Perhaps some understand,
Even in their fulfilment.

© Persephone M 16th November 2011

I Hurt You/You Hurt Me

You’ll never know the pain you caused me,
How your words hit like thunder, shocking my heart,
Deafened and pained, the tears rained down my cheeks,
As the realisation hit me: I hurt you.

But then the thunder stole itself away, hidden but not forgotten,
As a new, sun-less day dawned upon me and me alone,
The joy dried up, the excitement evaporated as you did it once,
And did it twice: contradiction.

Placing all the others, every single one under your umbrella,
You left me in the rain despite my apologies and pain,
I had only seen mine until you snuck out your words,
And now tables reverse: You Hurt Me.

(C) Persephone M December 16th 2013.

I thought my TTC journey caused the bitter loss of friends; so does succeeding.