quiet holds the end of the day
a stillness in the air
stifles the excitement that held us
just hours before
time to wind down
turn on the lights
sip that last glass of wine
and ready ourselves
for the beginning of a new week.

i want to help you
the person with the fake smile
   hiding behind a mask
      of forced happiness
why do you do it?
why do you want the world to see you
    as something you are not?
don't project happiness
because that's what's to be expected
people can handle happy
it makes them feel content
if they assume you are happy
but what does that leave you
   nothing
      empty
         unfulfilled
& burdened with carrying
that extra heavy weight
   of uncertainty
      uncomfortableness
just to comfort everyone else
be free with your sadness
   cry
      rain tears of despair
         open your arms, desperately
and plead with your eyes
   beg
      ask
for someone
   anyone
to grab ahold of you
and squeeze you tight
whispering
that everything
will be alright

expressing your sadness
   reaching out for help
      is the only real road
to recovery

the only real road
to peace.

i keep calling
and calling
yelling
from deep within my soul
but no one answers
no one heeds my pleas
i feel thoroughly alone

the one time i ask for help
and no one is around to answer

It's been awhile
since I wrote
but it's one of those nights
that my words take shape
in a silent scream.
The poet can find
inspiration in almost anything
but we find the most satisfaction
in the dark and the dreary and the hopeless
when we feel ugly
or unwanted
or alone
because we can make something beautiful
out of something that is broken
and even though there are tear stains
on my face
and on my paper
I can turn those streaks of emotion
into a gentle rain
that whispers that
love does exist
and dreams do come true
and life is worth living

I scream a silent scream but a whimper escapes
I ride the winds in this windless place
My spirit is cramped in this mortal shell
As I bend and twist in this earthly hell

Trapped in a world with freedom of choice
But work ever day and have no choice
'Fit into the mould and don't argue.'
'We've made it this way, it's what's best for you!'

But the years go by and a restless soul stirs
No longer able to hold back the purge
A cathartic release, an eminent end
As heart felt screams and wild winds blend