A Gentle Death

I came to know my struggle
while sailing solo
on the winds of my regrets.

Having lost sight of where
I was headed,
only articulated the hole
I had dug.
listening to the birds sing
their songs above me
made myself crazy.

Hidden from view,
I’ve had to figure it out
on my own–
where the wind picked up
had only poured me over
onto the floor.
Laying still in the field
of grey, dust and dirt.

I couldn’t have thought
of anywhere I’d rather be.
The silence
had become all to real,
yet I couldn’t have asked
for anything more.

While listening to the wind
of pale leaves,
I pick myself up and bleed.
Because the path I see
before me leads to
a gentle death.




Im blind.
Lost in the wind of my failures,
Only to wisp a breath before I drown.
My mind has left me shaken underneath sunless skies
I can never get away from.

Im blind.
Yet in the moonlight im awaken.
My fingernails worn down to the nub.
My knuckles bare and cracked till bloody,
I spit words I don’t understand
Yet make so much sense at 2:00 am.

Im blind.
My intestines are twisted and twined
With the feathers of a dove.
Outside of my window
The sorrows that spill out of my mouth
Are overwhelmed by a quivering fear.
Until I return at the time the light hits the moon.

Im blind.
Walking through the mean streets of encrusted gold
I shudder to think of the possibilities.
I reach my sanctum, my church.
Up on my stool I begin to weep,
Thinking about the horrors of the day.
On my typer I spill my heart onto the page.
The moment where I begin to die
Is when I finally wake.

Appears in bytheoverpass Jan 5, 2013 by Overpass Press