change is a process.

the limbs of my
character self
are shaking
just about dying
to drop
their socially acceptable moulds
litter the ground
with old habits
and in their places
grow
luscious healthy new sprigs
of enlightened perspective
a resurgence of ideas
death of the old
and outdated roles
a chance for
revitalised spirit selves
to dance upon the graves
of the old norms gone sour
now is the season
she screams
step up mulch away the debris
of your momentous miscalculation
of power
reclaim the roots
that the greedy shifting world
seeks to devour

**** the part of you that you dislike,
and save the rest.

...has to be more to oneself.

more layers
more colours

more lines felt
than are sometimes blithely expressed,
perceived by ourselves

more to you,
uncovered in darkness

more to me
in this humble lightness

some truth to the lies...
  some clearings
amidst
smouldering fires.

more.

to be...
something
an ache felt so deeply in my soul
I feel tethered to the yearning and desperation
a toxic dependence on the weight of the idea
that we must strive to be someone
with a career or vocation that implies the very essence of our character
that sums up our individual meaning
and is enough to simply state
who we are
what we do
all in one being
when really
in the end
you look at graves
and see words like
loving friend
dear sister
beloved daughter
and almost think that that is enough
in the end
to simply be a someone to someone special
and not what the world finds acceptable to label you as
who you are
what must you amount to
what you decide to be

in the end
being a someone
sounds more complex
than simply being
someone
to someone.

my heart in your hand had become ensnared
victimised by this trojan's land
masses evolving
my reality dissolving
as I try to make sense of the unfolding
droplets of memories abound in soft forms
sweet as a fresh nectar fruit torn
from high reaching limbs
the attainment of your salvation ever the more rewarding
when climbing atop assumptions and wading through the swamps of doubt and forewarning
the earth quakes and shakes
rattles it's inhibitions from deep within
spews forth a gully of raging inner turmoil
I surrender to thee
my sacrifice born to an innocent plea
as i fall into myself once more
your fingers have encased me in your possession
a cage of dainty jagged bones
closing around
this ever pulsating rhythmic vessel
I am
entombed
entwined
enveloped
fusing myself to the insides of rusted debris
the tides can try to wipe away everything
that is me
but still I cling
to the harmony of elements
to the cage of possibilities and bones
I cling to this doom forsaken land
I
now call
home.

there is this stench hanging over me
I can't ignore the smell for much longer
it looks like a shifting dark vibration
ever moving, quaking, reverberating
a collection of excitable flies gathering together to feast
on the entrails of my mind's failed operations
the buzzing gets louder still
almost unbearable to withstand now
it's starting to shoot through my conscience
I can feel the little insects conspiring and mutating as one
a battle lies ahead, waiting to unravel
dormant in the swaying green that surrounds
like a sweet illusion of peace
ready to strike and pounce upon the unassuming pockets
of hope and tranquillity which rest in nearby lagoons
the battle is soon to be underway
I can feel it
lurking on the fringes of my morale
as it begins to intoxicate me
the sour starchiness of tainted dreams
dissolved within ashen clouds
I think
as I allow myself to be consumed
I think
I am beginning to get drunk
on my own complicity.

your image is slow to fade from mind
like a stoic candle lit to last
flickering edges meet hazy memories
a single tear to wipe clean all that bitterness and doubt
clogging the arteries I fear
drainage error
virus downloaded
this mental trap screams: my software corrupted
functioning eroded
wires are crossed
too many conflicting states and feelings over the truth i've lost
truth lies in the fires of my heart's compromise
and it's so much easier to burn my fingers that put out the flames which threaten to devour
than risk inhaling any more suffocating self disclosure
must quash that burning sensation and bury it deep within
under layers of contempt and twisted memories
contorted in their ugly deceit
drown those wisps of smoky desire and longing
in the barrels of reality check discovery you reap
keep it in line
subdue the divine
forge a happy face for the torturer's mastermind
swallow the flames I tell myself like I'd rather swallow the pain
than wear it outside of me like a slim fitting sleeve built to capture every flaw and edge
I'd rather let those flames engulf me
internal rotation
to turn me inside out until I have no choice but to be reborn to emerge from the ashes I mourn of my crumpled past selves
my crumbling disintegrating fragmented selves
all piled up into a corner I'd sought to forget
now to tame that fire and teach it to transform me
pitiful regeneration
teach me the ways of transfiguration
to swallow the flames
and maybe then I could swallow this pain
tame those flames into ritualistic engorgement to keep the contents of my derelict meal inside to bear the fullness of a flame growing larger from which i can't hide but still these edges of your presence flicker and taunt
frayed mental resolve
the damage is done
scorched to the bone, my heart is hung
upon the sleeve that you have now wrung
and indeed see fit this cobweb i've slung
of forlorn drudgery unsheathed
a cobweb of displaced feeling
conceived
a webbing of desperate belief
a web of stained tears
I continue to weave.

i fill this hunger
with mouthfuls of rich red juice
hoping to quell
the pit of desperation rebuked
i spin my vessel of flesh and bones
around
and around
hoping to provide a blur
of meanings and lines
which no one can dissect nor infer
and when I crash
finally
when I crash
the hard cement rises up to greet me
salted solid slab
colliding with soft seamless skin
I smile giddily
drunk on my own apathy
a merry go round array of thoughts
all tumbling with no end in sight
if I fail to cease them
i can at least confuse them
with swiftly spinning sets of dials
until there is no more room for the mental unloading
no more space nor void to feel
instead an ever rotating disc of colours
containing verdant green teal
gushing forth from deep expressive blues
then cheeky yellow tinges impeding upon warm amber hues
a palette of mixed emotions
oozing out of me
better out than in, I tell myself
as I continue to spin
the dangerous game of momentum
builds up inside of me once more
pitilessly, I allow
the individual strands
to entangle this gore
and teetering, I watch
as my strands of stability unfurl
hooked on playing devil's advocate
to my own mind
forsaken guards
to the entrusted internal tower
when the outside threatens to pull you
into its sordid bower
around
and around
I continue to spin
and when I crash, yet again
i stay there
motionless limbs
giving in to the rich red juice
as i permit it to infuse
my hair
my hands
and my mind
oh, how it soothes
in a twisted uncaring yet fleetingly satisfying way
a crash and a demise
one end to another's compromise
a single point dissolved
into an inscrutable rounding
my little game of risk and falling
this is how I satiate
the hunger that calls
barrels of emotionless waves
in which I stall
this is what i give into
when mind's awry
and heart's amiss
the rich red throes
of saturated bliss.