Bio-phobia

Biology is a beautiful spectacle 
Beautiful, but tyrannical
Brutal by any measurement
Breaking, constantly, and re-arranging Itself, bit-by-bit, spiraling towards Infinity where it meets death
Partially or fully,
Where I wonder why we're still going
Or whether what's gone
Is worse than what's still living,
The fear of loss and of existing
Dialectically breathing dust into awareness.
Soft, shifting dust
Puzzled out perpetually into pieces
So nothing stays complete.
Not brains nor bodies,
As nature clamours to dig deep
And pull us through this twister
Whether or not we comprehend.

Knowing Fear

Fear, Ignorance Content.
A flower, beautiful, blind, deaf, and dumb
Plucked unaware its demise was planned.

Like a friendship that ended before it began
Because we didn’t comprehend how badly we’d been deluded.
No way of knowing, no one to tell us, we were still too inhibited
With the one we’re most comfortable with.

Fear, knowledge without empathy.
A machine that knows your wants, needs, and secrets
But doesn’t give a damn for you.

Like a parental figure that knows just enough
To push where you’re weak, but not enough to empower growth or happiness.
Prodding, pushing, punishing for the sake of a predetermined standard,
A program written unconcerned with your use.

Fear, unknowable reality.
Lost in a desolate landscape without borders,
Shelter, landmarks, or escape.

Taken from home, still a child, thrown into another family’s plans
With all expectation and no direction.
A neurological disorder that distorts human interaction
Into a perpetually lonesome experience.

Fear, the unknowable self.
Awake without memory in a dark,
Empty, and confined space.

I ask myself who I am, how I feel, what I want,
Or what I should do to make life worth living.
Am I a man or a woman? Am I depressed?
Should I try to make friends and risk another uncomfortable, dysfunctional experience?

Fear, the palpable mystery.
The feeling of heartbeats, shakes,
Ice on the neck, and other irrefutable motions.

I know wherever I go, whoever I’m with, whatever the situation,
Life will have evermore chances to overwhelm my senses.
I don’t fight, I don’t run, I surrender.
I feel afraid because I’ll never escape it, and I don’t need to.
I’m afraid because I still believe my life matters.
Knowing that, fear becomes me
As breath, laughter, and love.

Transition Through Fear

Control your fear,
Deaden your senses,
Listless solitude is the perfect fuel
For an existential crisis.
I’ve slowly eroded,
Turned to dust and resurfaced,
I’ve un-become the thing
That hated who I was,
The thing that hated everything
To escape what it hated being.
I can remember trembling,
A dead weight swiftly lifted,
Before recognizing myself clearly
And collapsing to the dirt.
My body is a prison,
My brain the sadistic jailer,
Holding down its prisoner
At the bottom of a well.
A glimmer in the chasm
Made to bury shameful secrets.

Looking out, it screams,
Being seen like naked eyes.
Repression is a disguise as
Recognition imbibes pain.
I am the thing that hates,
Projecting but what it contains,
Nothing but the distaste
For what I was afraid of being.
Captivity is a ritual,
As survival is to pain,
Avenging a broken heart
Buried beneath cold sentiments.
Weakness, being me,
Being something ugly,
Guilty and fragile,
And tempestuously charged.
I’m become the domineer,
Steering everything to crash
For bitterness, the sake of
The empty shape I cast.
Without a real feeling
To tamper my identity,
I freely hate the feelings
I’ve hated holding in me.
You’re everything I need,
That I vehemently despise,
Reminding me what’s real
And why I’m not really fine.
My blood draws a stop,
Distress signals overload,
Impulsively shutting down
Self-awareness and empathy.
An empty shape won’t ease,
It’s an insatiable thing,
And I’ve almost eaten
Everything I truly love
To blind myself from seeing.
Now, I’ve given in,
Unearthed the buried creature
I’d sheltered in a cage
To keep it from ever feeling.
I needed space to breathe,
Shelter, so I could think,
Awestruck by the callousness
And brutality of living.
It’s a graveyard
And a hornets’ nest,
Fear not to be feared
Not being dangerous.
I’ve tasted the comforts of malignancy.
I’ve torn my ego from its shell,
That agoraphobic parasite
I clung to like a life-vest.
I needed strength,
And the safest place to hide
For a fragile little thing
Is deep inside its mind.
Revealing an honest form,
Freshly embracing empathy and connection,
I can finally face your solemn eyes,
Even though I’m terrified.
I’ll live with myself,
Finally, I’ll risk being me,
To live for these moments
Without regret in the way.
I cannot be changed,
But I can grow and adapt,
And if we can share a love,
Or a struggle, I’ll do my best.

For No One To Find

When you can casually bleed

While your psyche screams,

Congratulations,

No one else will ever see.

Your imprisoned esteem

Only needs to breathe

Once in a while

To keep from getting free.

At persona’s relieve

Feel free to release

In humbled bursts

What trembles underneath.

As awful it seems,

It’s only a need

Left unsatisfied

By conventional means.

Carry on incomplete

In your vital deceit

Until maybe one day

You’ll be eased.

 

Pretty Little Flowers

You’re so vibrant

Or rather, that’s what I recall.

It feels vibrant to remember you,

At least.

It was cold

And we were both silent,

Shivering in worlds apart

It seemed.

Somehow, you bloomed

In January’s deadly quiet,

Drearily blanketed as you were,

I perceived.

Thoroughly naked,

Your boldness of spirit

Inspired many, though others thought

you diseased.

I must confess,

The winter left me frightened,

My calloused petals nearly scared

To breathe.

By spring

I hadn’t so much as sprouted,

Even as you were shimmering

In the eve.

You were vibrant.

Yes, I’m sure now you were.

Your vibrancy must have marked you

To those fiends.

I’d noted them,

The howling sons of tyrants

Braying their tempers vehemently

To their weeds.

Utter lust

To the point of carnal violence

Towards such saturated colors

As we.

I lay dormant,

But you swayed on defiant

To be ravaged so voraciously

By those things.

I heard it all.

I shuddered, but I was silent.

Now your swaying has all but stifled

With the breeze.

It’s winter again.

I’m cold and also still quite frightened,

But for our sakes, I promise I’ll finally bloom

Vibrantly in Spring.

 

Fear Of The Darker Half

The savage half that lurks

Within the sensitive little child.

The rabid ravenous wolf

That hungers for revenge.

The blinding red rage,

Demanding fresh sacrifice.

The violent satisfaction

Of devouring any threat.

Any perceived aggression

Like a beckoning full-moon,

Distorting the human form

Into malevolent mutation.

A child’s broken heart

Like the inner bleeding soul,

Nailed in and buried

Under cruelty’s creation.

The ferocity of retribution,

Destroying enemies and friends.

Offenders of the self,

Worthy offerings for the fiend.

Survival of the fittest

Gratifying primal urges,

The fear of being touched

And suffering more pain.

 

Fragile Fragments Of Tender Hearts

Tender hearts wash ashore

New arrivals in our play

Unashamed and unaware

Drying on the gentle beach

Looking backwards and ahead

Forming bonds and memories

Unafraid to be betrayed

Loving, hating, carelessly

 

Time a most patient teacher

Humans, the most untamable beasts

Tender hearts encased in glass

Shattered, battered, then repeat

Chances taken turn to naught

Trusted loves will turn away

Fragments of a fragile heart

Burn and bruise and then decay

Deepest wounds we hold inside

Scarier than the loss of blood

Guarded hearts in metal boxes

Too dangerous to open up

 

Battered hearts all locked away

Sick, imprisioned, they will stay

Escaping is the only way

To love and hurt again someday.