And the fog comes in.

    And it makes me worried.

    It comes without notice.

    And comes at great cost.

    And it comes, as it does.

    It is thick and heavy.

    It grabs me by the back of my hair,

    A serpentine kiss passes my lips, inhaling my breath. 

    Stealing me from myself.

    Tastes vanish, muted into bland.

    Colors distant, inaccessible, and objective.

    Rumbled, hazy feelings float by in translucence.

    And it comes, as it does.

    It comes.

  • A Mother’s Recusal

    Since you won’t write it, I will.

    Mothers hate,

    Children wait.

    Mothers lie,

    Children cry.

    Mothers wave,

    Children crave.

    Mothers smile,

    Words defile.

    Love is declared

    Children are scared

    Belief in good,

    Is not understood.

    Mothers beat.

    Eat your meat.

    Mothers hit,

    Children sit.

    Fist to the face, and pan to the head,

    Children pray, they are better off dead.

    Mothers pinch.

    Children flinch.

    No one to believe.

    There is no reprieve.

    From a Mother’s need

    To have her child bleed.

    Void of guilt,

    The truth they stilt.

    Mothers subject,

    Children object

    Infliction of pain,

    A momentary gain.

    Until the next moment,

    to face her opponent.

    Mothers yell.

    And children sell- their souls for protection,

    Against the rejection.

    A Mother explodes,

    Child’s heart implodes.

    Mothers batter,

    Little souls shatter.

    The child is old,

    Life paved in gold.

    Led by a map,

    That was sealed with a slap.

    Dark end in sight,

    Fight with all might,

    Fear or flight,

    She runs to the night.

    With all her skill,

    and all her will,

    Soul not fulfilled, from-

    A loneliness instilled

    By a selfish mother

    Wanting another.

    Moments long past

    Time passes fast.

    The child is grown

    Life’s joys not sewn

    Hope meets a dark eye

    No blue in the sky.

    Blind faith is her guide

    Life will take her side.

    Thank you mother, for showing me your ways.

    I will not repeat the pain of those days.

    A mother’s touch, is just a crutch-

    For expressions of love, that hurt so much.

  • Childhood

    From a young age,

    she was trained.

    Through violence, terror, silence and rage.

    On what was right,

    and how to behave.

    I learned, I tried, I failed to engage,

    The love of my mother- who loved another.

    My sibling, my enemy, my blood, my brother.

    I learned, I tried, I failed to engage

    The respect from a father,

    A stark patriarch who couldn’t be bothered.

    It is dark.

    I run and hide in the trees.

    He doesn’t notice, I am but 1 of 3

    I jump and fall,

    Scrape down the bark.

    My life is stark.

    My skin bleeds.

    Forget my needs

    My life ruined by their deeds.

    Reciting the Nicaean Creed.

    Why did they decided to breed?

    I want my agony to begin to recede

    How to begin

    This help I need

  • First Love

    First love is entire.

    It is whole.

    Heart on fire.

    Enchantment ceases,

    Love bound into pieces.

    Time leads to fragment,

    Dying lines fall stagnant.

    Smiles left in creases,

    Shadow and light releases.

    Parts of love buried,

    Lesser love eases.

    Into the fray,

    Of another day

    Love so familiar it’s on replay.

    Set to stay.

    It was not that way,

    As it was the first day.