notokinthehead











{January 26, 2013}   *~The Monster~*

I feel the
Tension coiled in
My belly, knotted
In a spiral,
A snake preparing
To strike out.
Deadly poison leaking
From the teeth,
Sinking into my
Thick, round, blue
Vein, pumping through
My core, dispersing
Throughout my body,
Overtaking me entirely.
I become the
Beast I so
Feared, vicious and
Utterly selfish, taking
For my own
Greed, handing out
Pain and death
Sentences, only happy
To share my
Own betrayals and
Griefs. Once bitten,
The sick magic
Forces you to
Forward it, pass
It along like
A contagious disease.
A disease, indeed,
It is. A
Force to be
Reckoned with, your
Personal strength your
Only superpower. Are
You strong enough
To beat the
Monster at his
Own game?



Tonight my parents called a family meeting. We’ve only had two in my entire life before tonight: to tell us our uncle was shot & killed and to tell us our cousin shot & killed herself.

Tonight my parents informed us (my brothers, sisters and I) that the doctors have given my mother six months to four years to live. I’m devastated. She has terminal emphysema and interstitial lung disease. In short, her lungs both look like Swiss cheese on the CT scans. She’s only fifty-one years old. I’m only twenty-three years old.

I’m angry. I’m so sad. I’m scared.



{March 5, 2012}   *~Sorrowful Drink~*

Darkness falls on a lonely heart
You drown your sorrows to the last drop of the bottle
Still you find a screaming silence, ringing deafeningly in your ears
The ticking of the clock takes it’s toll on your sanity
As it counts up the minutes, hours, days
That you’ve spent in a prison of your own making
Searching for ways to numb the pain and battle the absence
Of everything you dreamed you would be
Devastated over all of the ones you’ve loved and lost
Mind racing as the bells chime, marking the midnight hour
Another day has come and gone, but you still feel time has stopped
You don a raincoat and walk to the all-night market
Another pack of smokes and one more bottle to keep you company
Bloodshot eyes and stale smoke convey your story to the sleepy clerk
You return to your prison, pour yourself another glass
The television drones on in the background, telling of the war,
Recession, murder, another woman abused, children neglected,
The elderly are starving, death toll is rising, another suicide on the block
The sun is rising outside your window, you stayed up again
Light shines on another day, you close the drapes
Unable to face your failures, refusing to open your eyes to truth
Exhausted from the self-inflicted misery, you curl up in a corner
With the bottle in hand, you drift away into a blissful sleep
Dreaming of the way things used to be, praying tonight will be different…



et cetera