Posts Tagged ‘pain’

Hive Mind

Saturday, January 13th, 2018

The bees have infested my brain again
Rattling around within my skull
Like a ricochet bullet
Unwilling to settle on damaging a single target.
They fill my mind with vibrations
like a tremor behind my eyes
Like a precursor pressure
Waiting to crack open my head
When the real earthquake hits
Releasing the infestation of my mind
Upon the world that was never prepared
For this devastation that I have lived with
Everyday like a close companion
Or a haunting voice whispering in your ear
Words you do not want to hear.

The sound of silence is alien to me,
I would not know how to live without
The pressure built up behind my eyes.
Living like a ticking time bomb
Dangerous and frightening but existing
So close to death it makes you more alive
In the end, In the end, In the end
The monster you live with becomes tolerable
Because it is your monster, your pain personified
So you can give your struggle a name.
Transform your enemy into the tangible
Since a battle can only be won
When your opponent is real,
Otherwise you are fighting an endless war
Between you and yourself
Where everyone loses and the fight is your life.

I am the Queen of the hive in my mind
But my own swarm holds me hostage
Encasing me in sweet tasting honey
And lulling me to sleep with the rhythm
Of their hypnotic song;
Entranced by the foot soldiers of an army
I never chose to lead
I cannot escape the buzzing inside my brain
Because we are now two parts of one entity.
They are as much a part of me now
As a mosquito trapped in amber
Fossilized for all of eternity
A trinket of mortified antiquity;
You cannot set them free without breaking
The beautiful creation we became.

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Fox Trot. April 1, 2013

Monday, April 1st, 2013

Day One.

Trap snapped shut
Bones crack like the crackle of fire
Hair bristles like a soldier’s salute to the grave
Arms folded like American flags
Trying to pull in the pain
Gathering it slowly like a child to your chest
Cradle this cacophony of chaos
Like a bullet ricocheting in your brain
I am the fox with barred teeth under snarling lips
Peeled back like onion skin from the bone white beneath
With frantic eyes and fearful heart
Waiting for the hunter to find me.

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Pinecone Pieces

Sunday, February 24th, 2013

Picking apart the pieces of a pinecone
Digging with fingertips sore from the pain
From the sharp edges of a hardened core
The consistent pulling apart to pry open
The heavy wooden doors of the heart
Individually plucking the pieces like the strings of a harp
Angels screaming when the pluck turns to a pull
Like a sharp withdrawal of breath
That doesn’t belong in your lungs
This poison of decay
Not the decay of fall
Like the slowly drifting leaves that cascade
From heights unattainable by man
That can only be felt by the swift sigh of the wind
Between your grasping fingertips
Like the grasping fingers of your love
That slips away because you weren’t strong enough
To hold on to them as they begged with teary eyes
Looking up at you from the great descent
And you let them go, knowing you couldn’t bear the weight
Of both of you and the love that was creating a canopy
Over your heads and compressing your hearts
And lungs until even the soft scent of fall could not revive you
On this cold winter day
As the last of the fall leaves are being swept away down the stream
Where you once cast little paper boats
Wondering as you held hands where they would land
Hoping for fantasy but knowing even as your fingers unwove
That they would end caught in the dam of nature
Of things never quite meant to be
But it wasn’t enough to make you say no
Even as you plucked the ribs of a pinecone
Asking whether she loved you or not
Like petals of a daisy that have atrophied and petrified
Just as the bitterness of the question has cemented in your heart
Like a cancer hardening you from the inside out
Until you are as purely petrified
As the dissected limbs of lumber left for dead
Each band stands out, creating a carousel of time
But the Braille of years gone by has become illegible
Leaving you to remember the lost sound of symphonies
Music notes echoing into starless nights
Caught in cashmere skies cascading with rain
Where only the earthy smell of Petrichor remains
And the scattered scales of the barren pinecone
Left in the fall foliage like spent shells of artillery
Even these bullets cannot stop the pain in you
As you abandon the stripped pinecone
And begin to pull apart the sharp edges of yourself
To find the hardened core within
Hollow it out until it is empty
And start over again

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Grit and Gravel

Saturday, November 26th, 2011

The soft bare flesh of your palms
Marred along with the bony knees
That refuse to carry you along this path
Dirt and gravel dig into your skin
As you sit facing the Eastern Gate
Prostrate like a child before your relentless master
On hands and knees too weak for strength
But too strong to kneel
Defiance is your name
As you grit your teeth and grip the gravel
Between your blistered fingers
There is no blame just a silent battle
As you crash to ground
Like the rebounded toss
Of the writer’s crumpled paper
As another idea
Dies and dies again
Breathe in the ochre
Of this ground where you find yourself kneeling
Paint your face with the ochre
Of the very ground you were once told to kneel upon
Let it be your armor, your war paint
In the coming battle
Where once you had hesitation
Shaking as straw in the wind
Let this gravel be your battlefield
And your oppression become strength
We are the children of warriors
But we have yet to prove ourselves
Even as you sit with battered pride
And bleeding palms
This is just your beginning
Let this blood be the signature
That is remembered by all
You who wept for what was right
We remember your name

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The Bridge

Friday, January 21st, 2011

You stand on one side of a bridge
The other cannot be seen
Hidden behind a veil of fog
Stretching on indefinitely
As you place your hand on the railing
You feel the pull of ghosts at your shirttails
The whispers in your ears
The fog’s fingers gently wrapping around you
Caressing your face pulling you step by step
Onto the bridge that will take you away

You feel consumed by the fog
As it wraps you in its loving arms
Like a mother and her child
You feel safe, you feel the calm
That you never felt before
As you are pulled step by step
Away from the world you once knew
You welcome it, accept it
As your new home

You feel another pull
as you reach the middle of the bridge
A sadness nipping at your heels
Like a child grasping onto her fathers legs
As he walks away forever out the door
A heaviness that not even the fog can lift
Pulls you back to the edge of a world you have almost forgotten
You look back over your shoulder
A sorrow only known in this world
Mirrors in your eyes

The fog pulls you forward
Those you loved pull you back
You are lost in the middle
Of two very different worlds
Pulled by the sweet numbing of pain
On one side and on the other
Pulled by the sweet feel of pain
To remind you that you are alive

There is no going back
Once you cross the bridge
There is only silence
Only a choice to make
To leave those you loved behind
Or take the chance
To live again
In a world that might not be so sweet
But to feel pain means
That your heart is still beating

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Posted in Photos, Poetry |

Paint Balling

Friday, November 12th, 2010

For my friends seventeenth birthday we went paint balling at a paintball course oer the hill. I had never done this before but it was loads of fun. It had been pouring so the course was totally muddy and I was slipping everywhere as we were running around trying not to get shot. We were on the Jeep course which had a bunch of playground pieces and a Jeep in the center of the course. We were divided up into teams and had to get ready for the fight.

Clara was my main paintball buddy, we stuck together the entire time. Back to back dominating the paintball field. There were basically three groups of people on our course,

  1. our group, composed of four girls who had never paint balled before. In other terms, Noobs
  2. the child’s birthday group, a pack of young boys and their dad who have played many times before and know the entire course
  3. the hard-core group, four adult guys who own at paint balling and kill everyone else on the course.

The teams wound up being half of our group plus the children’s group against the other half of our group with the hardcore group.

It is pretty exciting when you realize you got someone out. At one point I was having a little war with someone on the other team. They were hiding behind a stack of tires on one side of the field and I was hiding behind a different structure. They kept popping up and shooting at me. After a long time of nothing I finally hit them on the top of the head with an explosion of yellow paint all over their hair. I noticed that they had blonde hair and I wanted to see who I had hit when the round was over. AS I was leaving the field and searching for the mysterious blonde who I had defeated I realized it was my friend’s mom who had taken us here. I felt so bad for hitting her on the head and eventually told her it was me but it all turned out ok. I had to watch my butt though because I feared her vengeance for the rest of the day xD

Between running and hiding behind various structures and shooting at the other team I got shot three times in total. Once in the arm, one in the chest, and once on the back of my leg. I got surprised by an ambush attack and got the hits to my arm and chest which I still have a welt from today. It is more shocking than painful when you get hit.

The last shot I got was during the very ast round. The hardcore group decided that they could take the rest  of the people playing. So new teams of everybody versus the hardcore group. Somehow they actually won the round. Clara and I were one of the last ones out of the game. Finally they snuck up behind me and yelled surrender. Before I could even turn around he shot me at close range right on the back of my thigh. It hurt a lot and I was really pissed because when you yell surrender you are supposed to not shoot them because you are so close. Later when talking to Clara we realized that when he yelled surrender she shot at him so instead of shooting her he decided to shoot me.

It was really fun, even though I was shot several times I really enjoyed the experience. It is really thrilling to run around shooting people without having to worry about really hurting someone. I hope to do it again sometime.

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Road Trip: Ashland

Sunday, July 4th, 2010

Today was an entire day of nothing. We went through Nebraska, Iowa, Minnesota, and finally here in Ashland, Wisconsin. It rained almost the entire day and there was nothing to take pictures of at all. The only real event was me slipping in the rain.

Yes, a little know fact about me (unless you know me really well) is that I am a total klutz. So

Me + Rain + Sandals + Slippery Surfaces = bad fall

We stopped at a rest area to throw away some trash and take a much-needed bathroom break. It had been pouring all morning and was still pouring out. So I slipped on my sandals and ran to the rest stop bathrooms. Just as I stopped running and took a few sure-footed steps I stepped on a slippery patch in a puddle and my crappy sandals just flew off. Next thing I know I am rolling around in a puddle in front of a rest stop full of people, probably laughing. I was so surprised I just lay there in a puddle getting soaking wet, thoroughly coating myself in mud and water. I looked over at my mom while I was laying there hoping she hadn’t seen my wipe out.

Finally I got up and limped into the rest stop. I was entirely soaked and freezing. I had busted up my hand and my butt in a major way. Next thing I know my mom comes in asking me if I was okay between her laughs. So we both start laughing at the image of me rolling around on the floor. I was okay but my hand really really hurts and I probably broke my tail bone -.-. Another reason for my utter dislike for Nebraska and Iowa. Sorry for those of you that live there, it may be for you but definitely not for me.

So right now we are in Ashland, Wisconsin on Lake Superior and watching the sunset over the lake and fireworks. Tomorrow I will finally be arriving in Michigan and I can’t wait.

Oh and HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!!

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