Why I am a Masochist
I have become a Masochist
purely for survival.
pain, radiates in waves
suffocating screams
locked in endless echoes
wailing inside
my head numb
from.
pain, to feel again
I long for
a sense of reality
nothing is better
to ground one
than true agony.
pain, a daily struggle
all day, I ache internally
dull depressive lows,
a blue harpoon to spear
a heart beating below.
pain, in a general flame
like a circus rolling around
my head is a lit with laughter
and laughter hurts more
when it is out of control,
hours blend, shrieks
terror before the blackout.
pain, it is how I survive past and thru,
apathetic, clear-headed, nearer to death
an apathy scares me more than pain
a lack of all emotion, a lack of all
void that hurts, or it would.
void, lingers in my heart
pain blurs the edges
and allows me to say
"I'm alright."
when pain is the only way
I make it day to day.6/23/23
Category: Uncategorized
Rust if Time
Rust if Time
rust
clinging at my eyes
eating away
as I linger in space
not moving, but time
a gentle breeze
passing through my ears
un seen in passage
yet it collects in that rust
blinding me
the world gone black
a void hovers in my mind.
alas I can see,
to my horror,
I can see.
age has settled on those lost
in a carried breeze,
lofted away upon sands
slowly buried
until they suffocate
cries muffled.
rust
it corrods me
joints locked in agony.
sight is pain,
sound is pain
as those I once cherished
erode from a breeze
that doesn't affect me.
those horrible screams
all night, I hear them
as they anguish from
dark swirls of void
in which they twirl
agonies as they die.
rust
in my lungs
breathing is a chore
but I must endure
to witness hell
as into me is bored
the script enacted
of a tragedy old.
or new,
time has become irrelevant
suffering inevitable
and in my torture
I learned.
pain is the 5th plane
perpendicular with time,
parallel with mine,
I sit on the axis.
and with the close of my eyes
time dies in the cold, vast void
where I lie for...
why nothing remains.
6/10/23
New poem, soon.
Skull Fissure
Skull Fissure
cracks creeping down my skull
leaking thoughts I drew
as disease worms into
the mass and void
a skull bored
echoes of nothing fill my ears
stench of dark forms fills
eyes, I see haunting me
a ghastly specter
fissures caress my,
flakes falling from my
skull in pieces
broken by
6/4/23
Image, Chaos, Man

Image, Chaos, Man
hazardous strokes
ink stained lines
of a man lost
madness of his mind
lines lain like prose
in chaos thrown
pain yet so real
eyes bleed
brain fried
images burnt
into a man's face
ink stains
mind in strains
lost to torrents
of chaotic lines
drawn a man
image of
the damned
4/23/23 – Andy McRae
Spirits Ignite, Inferno Lights
Spirits Ignite, Inferno Lights
crackle, smoke lifting off wood,
licks of ember rise in a silent grove
clearing where we gather 'round
chairs, folded out, feet towards
a fire, from a spark, 'til bon',
speaking of tales past,
yet locked in present
words leave lips
wicks burnt, whispers
over a charred lore
into night, we pour
our being, ourselves
spirits ignite,
inferno lights.
4/16/23 – Andy McRae
Woven
Woven
woven flares on dusk
rolled out plaid,
a blanket with little rough
whisky and wine
glasses empty beside
in clearing free of brush
witness the flying
moon, waning cresent
dim lit vale illumines
two souls woven
as the stars above
slowly luster fades
into fluttering dreams
4/16/23 – Andy McRae
Cresent
Crescent
Crescent amidst void
golden lit, trickles
fallen upon wounds
blood turns to crystal
words lost in a sigh
worlds lost for cry
slice, in darkness
lite forged in pain
Crescent amidst void.
Andy McRae - 3/25/23
Stars and Dust
Stars and Dust
breath, passing between
souls, adjacent that make
drifting clouds allure
stars and dust fill
lungs as if a balloon.
shimmers, hanging above
stars shine, light that blinds
lost in a daze, dusts of haze
stumbling for, heart's lure.
worn shoes lie, soles beat
every day, I walk on these feet
trust them to carry me,
guide me into the world I meet.
foot's gone numb, limp
stars falling, fallen at feet
dust clearing, in a haze
where we meet.
gone are words
gone is the world
alone, we stand
inside a daze
this haze that lines
walls where we gaze.
3/7/23 - Andy McRae
Forest Doom
Forest Doom
death bark twisted in gnarls
rot spreading thru
forests full of ash
dwell lost in plague
critters falling and dying
in loss the world moves
forward in a forest doom.
9/2/22 - Andy McRae
