From http://forthelonghaul.org: I wrote this poem at 2AM; it’s dark, but no doubt a part of me as I stumble along in this journey of recovery. I have good days and bad, but no matter what I am happy to be alive.

Wonder

Sometimes i wonder,
why i even bother,
to engage in a world that doesn’t care whether i live or die,
because life is not an instrument,
measured and anointed.
Free will is a mere nuisance,
where control is the jurisprudence.
But then why do we even try,
if our mark goes unnoticed,
our trace goes un-tracked.
Our voice muted by the violence,
of an ever growing tyrant,
whose name shall go unmentioned,
but whose deed shall give all nightmares.

forthelonghaul.org - struggles with mental illness

“A little over four months ago I was in a mental hospital for about a month. In the U.S., mental illness is something not talked about and we are taught to feel a lot of shame around and feel that we are alone. For this reason I feel it is important to be open about mental illness. And so, I dedicate this poem to all of you who struggle with mental illness.”

Mental Gift

Poppin' pills daily - got me crazy,

insurance co-pays track me weighly.

Addictions got me locked in ways I never knew to be;

meekly evade the subliminal toxicity;

lifetime supply prescribed,

neatly packaged individually;

separate and alone,

I watch my mind disengage to the beat of a metronome;

see through to the strings of the master

who controls the puppets dome.

Judgment cut by the

shrieks-of-sirens-,

-sarrenating-souls-in-the-search-for-solace.-

-Solstice-emanating-from-the-tides-of-oceans-,

-throwing-me-on-my-side-,

-hands-stretched-out,-raw-and-vulgar.

Moving through the motions

that the doctor diagnosed me.