Nightmare Alley (Poem and Spoken Word Video)(Spoke Word: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOnjjTyEp_M )
I had a dream that I got in a fist fight with my mother;
Woke up inhaling the punches and exhaling the hurt.
Woke up face down
Woke up knocked out, busted lip
It was 3 am and I found myself at the door;
Walked outside to feel the moon.
Walked inside to find some solace,
Walked to the mirror, hollow eyes.
Back to bed.
When your mother hits you, never hit back.
Hit the ground running, legs churning.
Hit the road, hit the pipe.
Hit the wall with your fists, hit the sky;
Just hit something.
I fell asleep, but didn't dream, I breathed.
Breathe in, Breathe out, Breathe air.
Breath of life,
I had a dream that my brother died.
Woke up crying the tears of the ocean that swallowed him.
Woke up hungover from the hurt,
Woke up tragedy wasted, Hollow high.
Too young to die.
It was 4 am and I found myself on the couch;
I watched the rain not the TV.
Watched the wind scream because I couldn't.
I Love You (spoken word poem and video.)Video for this poem: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mk0ciqr-AYg
The first time I let you go,
I let your leaf fall from my tree.
I let your soul seep from my veins.
I let your heart break me.
Yeah, I knew you'd been talking to her.
I knew you fancied her.
I knew she was older than me,
More experienced than me,
Prettier than me,
Thinner than me.
I knew you wanted her more than you ever wanted me.
So I let you go.
I drove by your house with our song drowning out the sound of the engine,
But I let you go.
I whispered your name in my sleep because you were the only one that I ever dreamed of,
But I let you go.
I saw you around town and maybe I followed your ghost around,
But I let you go.
I thought of you, but never admitted it because I let you go.
When my friends asked me who I liked I had to bite off my tongue and swallow it so I wouldn't scream your name because I let you go.
And when we started talking again I still tore the wallpaper from the walls of my wrists, but I was happy.
Left Behind.My veins opened to spill my crimson soul.
I'm a pale child, once left behind;
To weak to run, too broken to crawl.
A perfect dreaming skull crushed; it’s dust blown away just like my mind.
The trees around are young, but unlike me, they grow tall.
My eyes are wide, but see only the grey sky.
When the thunder rolls my tears are hidden by the rain;
Who falls, but does not break when she hits the ground.
Why is the rain so free while I am chained in pain?
The abyss of my throat is left open, but releases no sound.
The trees around are baron now, sickly with age.
My heart is old, an ancient spirit.
My lungs are slowly forgetting how to sigh while learning how to die.
Ghosts made of smoke whisper to me and I do not hear it,
But I know that they tell me it’s okay to try.
Don’t they know that I have?
For centuries it seems, my legs have struggled to find solid ground.
For centuries more my fingers have clawed at the dirt.
For decades I’ve howled like a love-sick bl
Let Me InWe all deserve to be tired and stubborn sometimes.
Tonight it’s your turn.
It’s what you deserve;
But let me help. Let me in.
I’m knocking on the doors of your eyelids screaming “Look at me!”
Why are your doors still closed?
Why do you keep your soul locked behind your tears?
Can’t you hear me?
Let me sing you the wind.
Baby, don’t block your ears.
Let the sound flow in
So I can sing you to sleep and steal your fears.
Let me into your heart.
Let me crawl down your throat;
Let me clear away the sobs.
Let me breath for you.
Love, float away with me.
I’ll be the sails on your boat.
Don’t shiver in the freezing wind.
When the ice takes hold let me be your coat.
Let me shelter you and warm you until I freeze.
And when spring flowers grow from the mud
Throw me off and feel the breeze.
Let me be the lemon in your lemonade; give me a squeeze.
When you’re going nowhere
Let me be your nowhere.
Let me be the place you go
There are days when my cells ache;
When I crumble in pain so great that it breaks the monotony.
There are days when my wrist is severed from my body,
But on those days I still write.
There are days when my fingers won’t grip the pen
And my font is worse than that of the doctor whom I should be seeing.
There are days when I stare at the ceiling and pretend it’s the sky
Just so I don’t miss the sun.
There are days when I like the mirror and days I don’t,
But there is no simple in-between.
There are days like today when I can’t decide if I want to see the next sunrise,
Though I still have hope for the sunset after.
Today is the day that I let myself bridge the gap between hate and hope.
Today my words are hopeful.
There are days like today when the ceiling smiles,
But tomorrow the clouds will turn a deeper grey once more. And so it goes.