the danger of surviving

When I heard the shout, the crash, the loud

My veins burst with fire and panic.

I leapt to my feet straight over the seat

Of the recliner, without bothering to close it.

I was already cycling through emergency mode,

Preparing my eyes for the blood they would see.

I was ready to reassure, to assist, to prevent

death

Fueled with panic-flames lapping up from my feet

Then he spoke after the cry, said, it’s okay,

I’m fine,

it was the dog that knocked something down.

I crumbled back down, my chest a vacuum

Where breath was remiss to return.

I hate that my life has been trauma so many times

But if it meant saving their lives, or protecting them in crisis

I would shoulder a thousand more panic-fires.

Though someday, I hear, they build up and the fear

Is nothing compared to the smoke.

If you’re not careful, the burning will fill up your person,

And the world will all feel the same,

And despite the extinguishers, despite the protectors,

you’ll never smell anything but flames.

stuck

There is a tension in waiting

for a blow that never comes;

Your body, crumbled to posturing

perched upon your splintered throne.

 

There are eyes tired of searching,

yet unable to close for rest;

There are lungs squeezed shallow from filtering

the quietest possible breaths.

 

There is loss multiplied by loss

in the fight to never be knocked down again;

There are waves that will never drown you, yet

you cannot ever risk submerging for a swim.

 

There is knowledge of inky black

which no one can pretend not to see;

There are stains of morbid red

where your heart rips open (every other beat.)

 

There is an exquisite agony

in never feeling home;

It does damage, it curries questions

that should never be asked.

 

You cannot learn to thrive and love

when your alertness

your caution

your awareness

when your panic will never relax

Panic

I am told these endless tales

Myths and legends, of how I prevail

Tell me where then, this strength you cite-

has gone, and why I feel so frail?

At any moment my blood will stop

It will back into my skull and pop

Dripping down each empty socket

Breaking my rib cage and pooling my pockets

Back the way it was before

The days I was dying, the dreams I abhor

The memories of childhood stitched up and fixed

A traumatic memory, I endless resist

WHY

CAN’T

I

JUST

REST

TEPT

i know i am still held back by the trastorno,

unlikely to perceive anything

as it truly exists;

i know because simple words

leap out at me, and they threaten

with their hisses and hooks, promising

desastre with every syllable;

the drumbeats of the enfermedad within my chest

they just might

succeed

at shattering my 454564

45

 

4

eevreyhthing

Deed

I no longer crave the Roma-life

I want an end to my internal strife
I don’t want new colors, or feelings, or fear
I want something solid and safe, and real

I’m tired of thrills, of feeling these highs
The lows with which they are tangled are not worth the skies
I’m sick of the endless shrieking in my mind
I don’t want to be homeless, I want someone to

FIND


stop letting me wander. Give me a home. I’m tired of sorrow, the tragic-alone

Please someone convince me I’m sane
The world grows in volume
every
day

if I …….. this path I’ll be …. anyway

Seethe

I know. The ebb and flow

I am familiar with the highs and lows

Someday soon, my joy will resume

The grief will flee to allow me

To breathe.

I feel your heartbeat’s chaos

The fluttering thump of rest

It fills me with dread

Reminds me of death

My own uncertainties flooding my head.

I remember the times I didn’t know what to expect

To dust

This Christmas time, my mind

Is racing with thoughts of death.

The woman in the road

The loyal dog that crumbled to ash in my hands

The grandfather I did not get to bid farewell…

The fathers that faded away before their time,

Hurting the loved ones in my life

I close my eyes and see demise

The permanence of death that floods my head

How do I stop this whirlwind and

Succumb to peace instead?