Author: Bec

My Hostile Intruder is Me

Posted on by Bec

My brain keeps me hostage.

And I have no ransom.

It doesn’t want profit,

It just wants control.

To be safe. Then some.

 

 

The cold steel cuffs my words

I can’t speak with people.

Not freely.

Small talk awkwardly.

Sometimes allowed.

When my brain pities me.

 

 

Now booting: Survival Mode

Communication: No Download

 

 

Muzzled and restrained

I strain to hear your words

 

The blindfold is removed?

 

 

I’m disoriented
I see things. I feel things.
I feel things better than anything.

 

I have no words but I have a swirling mind of concepts

 

 

I somehow grasp enough

Just enough

To get by.

No extra energy

To be real.

I’m tied.

 

I accept you.

Do you accept me?

Body language, any clues?

Oh, what was that you said?

Who’s to say, I only got to surface level.

When I crave a deeper level.

I’m gagged.

 

 

I’m smart

HAH. That’s rich, I’m dumb

Not rich enough to pay the ransom

 

I see everything

I see nothing.

Every detail

But not the picture.

 

Small components

That are of no use

And soon forgotten.

BECAUSE WHAT’S THE PICTURE??

 

 

Thoughts that are obsessive?

Compulsive?

I will die one tomorrow anyway.

My brain thinks it’s doing me a favor

When it acts in this way.

 

But it’s an unwelcomed visitor

Correcting my household,

Without consent.

I can’t get out of my own way.

 

 

You see thoughtful. I see: think too much it hurts.

You see reflective. I see: self-degrading.

Detail oriented. Move like molasses.

You see considerate. I am misunderstood for WEAKNESS.

ALL OF THE TIME.

 

The scariest most ruthless person to me

Is me

I remember grace for others every time

But I’m out of the equation.

EVERY TIME.

 

And it’s heavy a burden to bear, today.

Garbage World

Posted on by Bec

The world broke me.

Gone and done it’s worst.

But I broke the world.

Gone and got it cursed,

So I guess it’s only fair.

 

Sorry, World.

 

Now say sorry back,

IT’S ONLY FAIR.

 

Come on World,

Why don’t you care?

 

Stench and trash

Hurled and thrashed

Rubbish waste

Distinct aftertaste

 

Most of the time

I hide my true feelings.

I tell myself

“I’m pret-ty sure.

You’re doing the world.

A great fav-or.“

You’re (fucking) welcome, world.

 

Rejected, spit and spewed

Smell the haughty rank fumes

Self-important proud and rude

I think I’m gonna gonna puke

Reeking stench it stink it stank

I don’t want to hold your vomit, thanks

 

I’m too empathic for this place

I feel every emotion on your face

It grows in heaps by every minute

Into my mind

With you in it

And I applaud you.

You folks who have been here longer than me

Being a trash can for all to see; it’s too much.

I can’t stomach the smell anymore; it’s too much.

Lone Wolf

Posted on by Bec

I’ve always been here on the outside.

I keep people there on the inside.

I don’t let them be-

I don’t let them be outside to be with me.

 

If you know me, you don’t know me.

But does anyone anyone really know anyone, you see?

 

Sometimes I think I’m crazy.

But define

crazy to me,

I’ll tell you I think we’re all insane.

Some just cope with it better

As they’re trained.

 

I’m a lone wolf that wants both worlds.

I like the pack, but I’ve realized…

I’m just a mongrel in your eyes.

eyes.

I’m a different type.

I like it on my own.

 

I feel too much.

I think too much.

I think I think I think too much.

I see you too too much.

I see how you act, how you all behave.

 

I think I understand you

But

I could never understand you

The way God does

Reality

Posted on by Bec

Well, you’ve trained me right.

Because I’ll barely ever tell you you’re wrong.

And I’m sorry for that.

I am sorry I don’t tell you you’re wrong.

I’m doing you a disservice.

So it’s 42 degrees and you say “No, it’s 72.”

“Bring a jacket”, is about the closest I’ll get to telling you.

Time Dies

Posted on by Bec

Time, you’re kill’n me.

No really, I mean you’re kill’n me.

I know you’re actually kill-ing me.

But right now I mean—

You’re kill’n me.

 

Wow, Time, look at those DEAD LINES.

In charge of killing LINES

too?

Organic matter wasn’t enough for you?

LINES of TIME, too.

Timelines.

What did they ever do to you.

Feelings Bite

Posted on by Bec

Feelings bite

I’m infested

Put that feeling in a box

Put that box in another box

To me, mail that box of poppycock

And when it arrives

I’ll smash it with a hammer!

Take hold the jackhammer.

How brilliant a katzenjammer.

The heavy slammer with the hammer.

A demolition’s clamor.

 

I see confetti of debri

So begins their crawl in me

They burrow sporadically

They are swarming

and teeming and

I can’t escape what’s in the air

They’re here

And I am laid bare

 

Encroaching roach

Into my ear

Squirming worming

Into my eye

Twitch

Shifts

Twists my mind’s eye

I can taste the bitter beetle

I’m an infected vessel

 

Not dealing

With feelings

Writhing

just under my skin

Wriggling

Slithering

Slimy grub

Slow slug

Body is ravaged

Irritated

Sick.

Inspect the insect.

Heed some reasoning.

Space Face

Posted on by Bec

Space

Face

 

Grace dances on my face

As I look to face space

We spin around

At just the right pace

The right time and at the right place

We’re encompassed by the stellar

Stars, gas, dust enlaced

Interstellar, wow, it’s stellar

 

With a Grand Composer
From the atom to the galaxy
It’s an orchestrated odyssey

 

Encounter the cosmic

Encounter the dirt

Now see the inner workings of the earth

Soil, terrain

Growth of life

Air and breath

Ocean breadth

There’s vigor in its moving parts

Interacting weavings

Interacting hearts

 

Organic organs lifeblood

Breathing energy

Work together so cleverly

It’s just a taste

There’s a smile on your face

A sparkle in your eye

 

Through the cornea

The light hits the retina

Lens focus

Image received

Electrical impulses

Image achieved

Carried through optic nerve

Carried to the brain

 

Involuntary body functions

Heart beat heart beat

Voluntary body functions

Muscles complete

After receptors

Talk to the brain

Skeletal muscle

Moves as trained

 

How does it exist without any purpose?

How does any thing work without utter chaos?

What gave our brain the ability to reason?

How can your brain be sure of anything,

Sure of it’s own function to reason?

Unless it was in grand design?

No Army but in a War/The Worry Love Affair

Posted on by Bec

Always looking for a new worry to flirt with,

do you get satisfaction from the hurt?

You birth it.

 

You’re dying from the inside out.

That worries you?

Right on cue.

 

You have a strange attraction

To you.

To what you can do.

To what you can fix.

 

To power.

Do you have will power?

Or pride masked in self-control?

You’re the boss aren’t you–

You hold the world to be in control.

To be safe.

But the irony is,

The weight of the world

is actually killing you.

Not so safe, eh?

You can’t be married to the world

and peace, too.

 

Worry and Control are an odd couple, aren’t they?

What makes you think you can eat your cake and keep the cake, too.

 

Headliner says: The World vs. you.

You think you can win that fight?

Death is knocking.

And you’re less than an underdog.

No chance in that fight.

 

Lily in the field

You traded your beauty

And became a worry whore.

 

There’s someone fighting for you,

BUT YOU PUSH HIM AWAY.

 

You refuse the army but you’re in a war.
You refuse the army but you’re in a war.

 

Control. You need it.

You feast upon it.

Too busy to notice

You’re loosing focus,

the parasite is actually feasting on you.

A life-sucking hound,

That chews and chews.

And spits out what’s left: A tired soul.

So much for control.

You’re partnered with worry.

 

You keep the letter of the law

But you forget the spirit of the law.

Strain out a gnat and swallow a camel.

A monkey’s on your back.

 

But your life? You’re dating worry and

You are in control.

That’s right.

You

are the one that holds the coats

of your own stoners.

A mastered skill.

 

You hold their heavy coats

and breathe your pummeled breaths

at the same time

the rocks hit you.


That’s quite something.

That’s right.

You’ve beat it.

You’ve beat this life.

Black and blue.

By romancing worry.

 

What you do with fear defines your life.

Give it up.

It’s too heavy for your hands.

Give it up.

It’s too heavy for your soul.

 

Or is this not the first time you have heard this.

Then go ahead.

Give worry another kiss.