there's something wrong with my head.
minutes turn into days, days turn into nothingness,
fall through me like i'm made of holes,
scars form where grass used to grow.

i'm in the middle of an uninhabited desert,
i'm in a crowd, so dense there's barely room for a breath.
my thoughts follow their own footsteps,
caught in a game of hide-and-seek with myself.

i should've paid more attention to chemistry,
because i think my brain is missing some vital element,
one that would finally show me how to be whole.
but there is something wrong with my head.

i have all these strong emotions
they swirl around inside me
i shove them down
and put a cork in the bottle
the bottle that doesn't open
it's easier to ignore the anxiety
than deal with the difficult emotion
but the bottle can't hold anymore
of this feeling
the bottle is shaking and exploding open
the feelings are rushing back at me
i'm holding in the tears
my stomach is churning like
the emotional turmoil
i'm so worried
I can't do this anymore
it's all crashing down on me
the emotions rain down on me
like the glass shards from the bottle
the anxiety shoots through my veins
making my hands tremble
and my heart ache
and my mind spin

Thanks for another day
Others curse their luck, stale breath
Eventually our enemy becomes our brother

Cancer checkup, another swinging **** who fears his death
To not necessarily sacrifice each and every day for another day
I’m going to go to my grave unsung like almost everyone

Numerous number systems beyond the real
Look one way, from another come the heart’s missed beats
One way out of the mind’s limitations is through another mind’s
      contemplations

Another autumn, another election, so aimless and sublime
The white egret ate fish after fish, one then another then another...
You get a limited number of long walks, so take your time

One gives up body and soul but that’s not what I came to talk about
Slug the world and the world slugs back
It was amusing in my youth that God’s finger could move me to another
      square

Another duality, a day in the woods, jet passing overhead
I am in favor of kindness and you prefer concentration camps
The slow death of one sometimes makes the sudden ****** of another

To survive only as many more years as there are petals on a randomly
      picked (ox-eye) daisy
Another winter passing its calling card in at the window
One day follows another until the last day and on that day there will be
      weather

She stood in the field of Violets.
A distressed lady in war.
While others charged in the battlefront,
Only I noticed her, from afar.

She was enraged, with dreadful eyes,
Murmured words I didn't hear
A cluster of sunken syllables
Rose a song too hard to bear.

Forgiveness, O Damsel of Violet
Release me from these cries
Let me sing a song so dear
For those hazel eyes.

Trust me O Wrathful maiden,
No harm was ever planned.
Yet here I stand, entranced by you,
Still spellbound where I stand.

They say speak your truth,
but only...
only if it doesn’t make others uncomfortable.
Can't smile it away.
They say speak up,
but only...
only if you aren’t too loud.
They say walk proudly and tall,
but only...
only if you don’t attract too much attention.
Can't smile it away.
Though I am tired...
Tired of listening to their empty advice.
You can change for so many people...
you no longer recognize yourself...
until there is nothing left of your true form.
Can't smile it away.
The truth of the prejudices that still exist,
the harmful biases,
the injustices which live in our world,
are not erased, simply...
simply because some choose to ignore them.
Can't smile it away.
The misogyny which exists in our world,
cannot be tucked under the rug,
it can’t be smiled away.
These sentiments aren't meant to bring joy,
these words are not fragile,
these words are not beautiful,
this is just me,
speaking about the truth,
and not feeling ashamed to speak it.
Can't smile it away.
There are still far too many places...
places where women must fear...
fear to walk down their own street,
ever watchful of the hands...
hands of those who feel...
feel their bodies are not their own,
because they are women,
because of their gender.
Can't smile it away.
There are still far too many who do not realize,
that many generations of slavery and oppression,
have left their mark on current generations,
and that hate still lives.
Can’t smile it away.
There are still far too many prejudices which poison the minds,
of those who fear...
fear a religion foreign to their own,
and too many wars are still waged,
in the name of religion.
And when does it end?
You can’t smile it away.

-Rhia Clay

Once upon a time
a father with his belt –
(with black shiny paint
and a steel which is melt)

And a son, a pen in his hand
A book by his side
A lamp blowing light
Tears in his eyes
The fear in his veins
With his wimped tiny mole

(A cry in his neck and
a gulp in his bones)

Whimp whimp strikes the ground
Wipes the tears,picks up his pen
Shakes up his head,
Gives him a cloth,
to blow up his nose

(A smile on the boy's face
The fallen tear on the page's lace
It dried his shake on hand and
moved him a pace)

Whimp, whimp, whimp – strikes again
(A posed fear on son's face)
Whimp, and he strikes again
(The clueless child, shakes with his pain )

The blats on the floor
and its black remains
The years of slaps
which slashed up cement

(He comes back..
drops his belt   )

A relief in boy's breath

The steel fallen,
relief is felt

The father with his red hands
(Blood flows out at a spot's end )
Smiles at the son

Dark is his eyes like year's repent

(A strung in his mind
He shakes only once,
As he picks up his belt)

He sits on his couch and
acts as he had a father –
with a belt-
(with its black shiny paint and
a steel which is melt.)

fourteen*

Woe is the child
That turns 14
When life was already lived
Before he was keen.

Woe is the soul whom
When asked why he cries
He shuts down
Shuts up
And rolls his eyes.

Woe is the boy
Turning 14
Scared to lose himself
Nowhere to be seen.

I see you.
I hear you.
I love you too.
But I'm afraid to lose you
Far too soon.

Yours, Vivere.