Broken

I’ve been living less than life,
Or so it seems,
Holding on to fears that haunt,
Penetrating my soul,
Like armor piercing bullets,
Constantly considering the fate of me,
Without understanding that the whole is not the sum of its parts,
Running from the truth,
That has been obvious and consistent,
Since the day I was born,
Revealed more fully,
The day I first picked up a book,
And found enlightenment,
Deepened the day I took up a pen and a pad,
And started exploring the feelings that are the whole and sum of me.

Deep within,
A fire burned relentlessly,
And I ran from it,
Daily,
As my own gray matter,
Was shaded black and white,
And would not let me go,
To a place that none should go,
And so here I stand,
Still,
Searching for that same courage,
Of the first time I put in words,
Feelings that were like gapping wounds,
And the pen was my band-aid.

I’ve been living less than life,
Constantly fearing,
The feelings nearing,
The centre of me,
Like the eye of the storm,
Quiet for a moment,
Before the relentless torment,
Stretches me thin,
To a point that even I cannot deny,
And then in a moment of clarity,
My eyes are opened,
To reality.

Deep within,
The encyclopedia of me,
Is writing new entries,
In a life renewed,
Battling with myself,
For myself,
To be myself,
Torn apart at the seams,
I again write reams,
Of a life renewed,
But still longing,
For that sense of self,
That depends on nothing more,
Than the words,
The words that have always been,
The fiefdom,
Where I know,
All will… eventually, be ok.

I’ve been living less than life,
Though to those who know,
I have struggled,
Banging my head against the wall,
With each and every step,
Until now,
Where broken,
I can rebuild myself in the image of me,
And long for nothing more,
Than the freedom to be,
What I know I have always been…

SDM

I’m High…

I’m high…
Like I could never imagine,
Blazing trails through my own consciousness,
Trying to find some enlightenment,
While fleeting memories of a me that is no longer there,
Fades into a quiet corner,
Where my screams are deafening,
Yet you can’t hear them.

I’m high…
As a bird in flight,
Free from the clutter of collusion,
Lies and deceit,
Tearing at my dreams,
As I take hold of something that was lost for so long,
Myself.

I’m high…
On a drug that every dealer,
On every corner,
Would kill to have,
LIFE.

I’m high…
As I try to penetrate my own fortress,
Breaking down the barriers,
Those have been put up in defense of me,
That no longer serve my destiny,
Thus revealing a world that for so long,
Has seemed alien to me,
As I grapple with a sense of self,
Diminished,
By continuous rejection,
And the sounds of silence.

I’m high…
Trying to reveal myself to me,
Nosce Te Ipsum,
My own Oracle at Delphi,
Softly whispering,
That all will be ok,
And that true freedom is right around the corner,
And that all I need do is accept my fate,
As designed,
By me…

I’m high… high I am,
Writing through this pain that cuts like a trench,
Through the landscape of a life of pain,
Constantly working toward something,
Though not knowing what it is,
And then,
As if the universe rewards my confusion,
Others arrive,
To let me know,
That I can be free,
I can be high,
I can be me,
And all I have to do,
Is let go,
Have faith,
And soar,
As I am meant to…

I’m high…
As the fragments of me,
That so coldly beat me into oblivion,
Are reassembling,
At the waypoint,
Of my own desire,
To become,
To be,
To thrive,
On what is right,
ME.

SDM

TPECSHFZA6HG