Room Dancing

Room dancing in my head
The phone keeps ringing
No connection
Am I dead?
 
Rushing
Flooding
Room dancing in my head
The movements feel weird.
 
Songs emotional impact
Heightened mentally
Room dancing in my head.
 
Room dancing in my head
Hands not working
Room dancing in my head
I laugh with the
Room dancing in my head.
 
 
4/22/20

ReKindled

I am letting them slip away
Friendships I once had
And never thought would
        Go away.
 
Do they leave me,
Do I leave them,
Or do we fade
Not noticing until
       It's gone.
 
I miss those bonds
Tying us together,
Making us close.
 
How do we rekindle
        What was lost,
        What is weakened.
Can we start anew?
 
Or are we destined to drift
To never see again,
Those we once held dear,
Those we once called friends.
 
4/22/20

Wrote this in the car before work.

Emerald

Emerald oceans fly,
Filling the air with light.
Covering stars
Looking I see life.
 
Sweeping through the stream
Beating to the drummer’s theme.
Hearing the song
that brings life down from the sky.
 
Bliss taken in.
All goes inside.
 
The feeling stirring in the brain,
Every time I hear your name.

This one was written some time during college

Spiders in My Head

In my head
Spiders in the head
Spinning webs
Planting false memories
Feeding on pain and misery

Choking on pills that let me see
The world ringing the life out
My soul in chains
Breaking limbs
Insane

Spiders in my brain
Spinning webs
Suffocating daydreams
Escape in need

Cobwebs in my eyes
As the spider dies.

This poem deals with the issue of being on medication almost all my life. It is heavy in metaphors; just in case you did not catch that. I believe this was written back during college when I was on some medication that was not working right, and I was getting fed up with it.

I do believe that medication is a great thing when it works, but when it doesn’t it can be a very scary thing.

Down the Street

Down the street I stroll
My scarf hanging in a breezeless night
Ears full of screaming
As the drums pound away.
 
All alone, free of sight
I sing the words in line
Stringing from word to word
The magical song of which
I am an addict.
 
Halfway through, I hear a shuffle
Feet not mine, from somewhere back there
I turn over my shoulder
To find to my surprise
A woman not far behind.
 
Startled to learn
That after all I was not alone.

Written my freshman year of college, this is a story about a late night walk to campus center to get some food. I believed myself to be alone, so I was singing along to a (then) new Soilwork song “This Momentary Bliss”, which I had been playing on repeat for a couple of days. When I got about 3/4 of the way there I realized there was someone walking behind me, though not directly. And since I went to a small college I sort of knew the person, so I felt really awkward.

Sight

What do I do,
When stared in the eye?
A confession that could move
A man such as I.

Does she know
The power she holds.
With but a word,
To the floor I shall fold.

A muse as beautiful
As the word’s insight
Given to a man
Who stumbles through the night?

A spell has upon me
A grip fastened tight.
If I am freed,
Will I be left with any sight?

This poem is from my early college years.

Venom of My Mind

It has been slowly creeping into my head
The sickness, the poison, that could kill me dead.
I do not know what to do, where to turn,
Every road seems to lead me to an end.
This world is molasses, yet the sands are flowing.
With the venom in me, I am psychotic.
Everything is no longer, A new world in place.
A glorious applause rises as I take a bow.
Sinking deeper into the darkness, I fall,
Sound becoming sight, sight becoming sound,
Air rushing past me as I fall, farther
Into a pit, that is my mind, dark below.
When I reach the bottom of this madness,
I find a mind divided by lines.
Trying to pull them, it shatters,
And with it, my insanity, all goes black.

4/15/20

To begin with, I would like to say that I am doing very well right now. This poem was written about the struggles of mental illness; in particular, severe mania and psychosis. This poem is heavy in metaphor and should not be taken literally. I spent an entire night on this poem, doing almost no editing on it. This poem is close to me as it is about a topic that is of importance in my life. I would like to thank you for sharing the experience of this poem with me and I hope you felt something.