THE FOLLIES OF REALITY
I’m trapped inside a maze
Closed doors with no exit
My vision is blurry
But no knobs to adjust it
I can’t remember how I got here
Been here for 27 years
But it’s still life I fear
Knocked down by deception
Chained to my depression
Life’s a two way street
I managed to take the wrong direction
Trampling over things not seen
They’ve become images
Darkness falls and dreams dissolve
I wake to discover
A nightmare of reality
Every day she hides her dreams under a
mattress right beside her dope habit.
Locked away from the world
so no one would know she’s slacken.
Rejecting help or intervention,
she’s in too deep, a basket case.
Shamefully hording this self-hatred,
her mind and heart have been replaced.
There’s only this vacant space, no tone,
an emptiness evoking a fading echo.
Grasping this fixation with all might,
like any addict, she can’t seem to let go.
Appetites perform disappearing acts,
skipping town without a trace or fragment.
With no subsistence in her belly, she’s
bulimic by default, vomiting gastric acid.
Roaming the streets searching for
evident answers; she in a haze, a trance.
I often wonder who she was in the past,
before she acquired this poisonous romance.
Shunned and not deemed as normal,
everyone passes her with no emotion.
With no love or protection she’s disowned,
suffering the withdrawals and hasty moments.
Instability chauffeurs her through life.
speeding and swerving with no license.
Driving in circles and losing direction,
she also lost herself in this crisis.
Maybe she belongs in the Land of the Lost
Internal affliction on an ultimate high,
he pins himself under his own prison.
Surrounded by this intangible dome,
it was never intended for me to enter.
Thickened skull of confusion and anguish,
progresses the fire burning within he.
His extreme acts hurt himself and those he love;
mine amour once rid him of such injury.
Free loading memories wear out welcomes,
undermined thoughts take flight in thick fog.
With even bifocals, he’s blind and I’m invisible;
too impaired to see that I bestow of him my all.
Smothering the one light that brightens his skies,
he’s immune to this self-imposed darkness.
Convinced that loneliness is the only place to call home,
I guess he won’t be appeased until he’s a carcass.
Reflections of Ruin
– Ms. Tioko
Adverse consciousness weighing opposite a feather
Expressing my life through sealed unread letters
An intellect so impractical its borderline genius
Yet pessimists claim it’s quick to make them squeamish
My live confessional, I would often chat with the mirror
With a drink in both hands, if only things appeared clearer
Hallucinations has me out of my mind and in too deep
Nothing makes sense anymore like my cerebrum’s offbeat
Wrestling with daydreams, nowadays I rarely get sleep
Pushing against balance like I’m tripping over both feet
Rebellion wars, a fight to death if they played fair with reason
Stolen thoughts and moral sense, oh to get away with treason
What to do when you’re alone in this jungle of oblivion
I’m as low as I’ve ever been, the farthest from meridian
With my discolored morale and blurred line vision
I’m again drowning in this sea of demoted intuition
– Ms. Tioko
Whomever said “live everyday as if it were your last” definitely has a death wish. If I lived everyday as if it were my last or aligned my lifestyle with this “YOLO” cliché, I wouldn’t get anything done…and I’m pretty certain I’d have aids…
Don’t judge me for my honesty. I speak the things you’re afraid to expose.