Darkness Abides In All

WAMTAC

In the midst of an internal storm….

the untold stories
of darkness prevail
over widening seas
and Hell’s Deep can hardly contain
the fire of night
waking us up
and bringing us down
we may never know the wholeness of breath
or solitude of sound
for the darkness abides in all
will you let her come around
stoke up the magic within
and burn in and of her glory
let the Phoenix be called to arms
spit lava and pumice upon the world
for poets are the volcanoes
of humanity
and within the darkness we spew
life is born through trials
see the words rise
on the wings of the wind

The Beast Inside

wamtac

when backed into a corner
dreams and flings
pushed aside
tabletops overturned
the whole room watches you now
crowbars and crustaceans
you picked an amazing crowd
nothing matters as much as how
they beat you, played you
now it’s time for you to come out
louder than ever
shining bright to last forever
shocking them to suddenly
remember
the aches and pains
nobody ever cared to say
or stay
we left you alone
till you were ready
almost twenty now
but it always seemed a lie
when they thought you couldn’t hear
you’d be counting the time
counting time the teacher says
just when will it be over
can you go to bed
the kids make fun
strangers treat you as dumb
all along you’re supposed to be fine
but deep down
real numb
mommy, I’m hurting
she says
but there’s no doctor for us
so she continued
to be bled
by scalpels and scissors unknown
to all
but the voiceless muse
that’s controlling me

 

Alone At A Table For Two

wamtacalone at a table for two
the servers question me
with disparaged stares
arrows shooting through shrouded mystery
misunderstanding the view
through silent glass of thoughts
happily ever after never seemed
such a lonelier proposition
than now
the view through empty shot glasses
painting a mirage of misery
drunk everyday
the shame of the air
shiftless and silent
being the height of company
can only deepen the trudgery
of ever attempting to try
someday I whisper
someday
leaving the check and tip
across from the love
I never had

Till Breath Fades Away

till breath fades away
and hearts dance
to their final beat
I will love you
though time and tempest
will join hands and take
serpents from the sea
and swallow the lands
in a cascading wave of flame
though sun and moon
will correspond to wilt
and weather
no better will walking
be to running
for when the eons are let loose
genocide and suicide
are yours only to choose
as the masses

Let’s keep the conversation going! Chat with me on my facebook page

https://m.facebook.com/marylandpoet/?ref=bookmarks

 

 

 

Toss A Bottle Out The Window

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You see

Me bleeding out

You see

The sky falling apart

You see

Them pack their bags

Runaway

Runaway from me

I’m too slow

To stop them

Our vows

She had forgotten

But we didn’t match

Never have

Never will

The pain is great

The surprise, worse

I shall forever be stuck

Between love

And hate

Procrastination

And anger

Forevermore

As I watched her

Toss a bottle through the window

And my heart

Went up

In

Flames

Back From The Dead (Well, Sort of)

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I’m approaching her. A friend that I’ve wronged. Very cautious, worried I might’ve done too much. Very conscious of my surroundings.

Then I awake. It’s just a dream.

I’m back everybody. Somewhat clearer mentally. College is being put on hold for now, which does have it perks. Work is going great. Friends are well. I stayed at at Mary’s (my boss) parents house and got to work at her store in Bristol last weekend, which was incredibly fun. I joined the Annapolis Nuerodiversity Society (the group leader, Meg, is a funny and sweet autistic) and I’ll certainly write more about this later. The latter has probably been the highlight of the last month. It felt good to talk to someone on this side. Someone I can actually see…look at. I’ve been missing that my entire life I guess. It feels isolating to just have yourself to talk to. I guess joining the group is kinda like a microcasm of my journey lately….

I still feel a little down. I dunno if any of my fellow autistics get this, but the side of my head always throbs when I’m longing for something. I don’t know what it is. It’s funny because I took a break trying to find the answer, and I still come back empty. Had an awkward conversation with a girl I know recently. Reminding me how behind I am. How socially unfit I am. It was painful to experience, because I know how dumb I feel. How she must have felt. How everyone witnessing it must have. Guess that’s why I’ll always be like this.

It feels good to post again. With no takers on my book yet, I sometimes feel like this is the furthest I’ll get as a writer. (Hope not) I missed reading your stories, your hearts. It’ll take me a bit to catch up, but I will. Hope you’re all doing well. I’ll have a longer post tomorrow, but for now here’s this

irrational fears make no sense

so reality I miss

it’s just an illusion

just lies

but I guess we’ll all find out

when we say goodbye

 

An Overloaded Aspie Mind Needs A Break

WAMTAC

Well WordPress, this is my first post to you as an adult.

Feels surreal. But also still feels like me. I didn’t change bodies, just a number. A number that entails responsibilities and consequences I didn’t have before.

With work taking much of my time, and preparing for college in fall, I have been feeling very numb as of late. I haven’t been feeling much of anything. Happiness or sadness, anger or frustration. It’s a bad place to be when you’re just…floating. I guess all the customers have gotten to me, and I didn’t notice. Or this is just my subconscious trying to save me before I have a meltdown. Maybe neither. Maybe both.

I’m still writing. More than ever actually. Words are coming from places I didn’t even know were inside me. I haven’t posted anything onto here of these pieces because I’m saving them…I’m hoping to take this blog, and you (obviously, as my reader) a little deeper into how my mind really works…what I see, think, and interpret this world to be. I’m still sending my poetry collection out to publishers, and there hasn’t been any real success with that other than the usual  “thank you for your submission but we’ve decided to look elsewhere” responses. I’m not deterred. I know I need to keep writing.

I like the work I’ve produced over the summer, and in time you’ll get to enjoy it as well, but for now I need to take a break. When you become disconnected with your heart and soul, as I have lately, you start to lose other things too. Working and being constantly around people has forced me to become distant to my feelings, because with them I’m emotional and reckless, with good intent, but as every aspergian knows they show us for who we are, and many don’t like that kind of person. The mask has been on, and will stay on, but I need to replenish the supply.

I don’t really have a timetable on when I’ll be back.

I leave you with the hottest woman from Suicide Squad (Harley truthers bite me)

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and some of my birthday twins

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Tomorrow’s My Birthday….Just Another Day?

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(Thanks to the lovely Lisa Troedson for the Entertainment Blogger Award nomination. I’ll have to publish a separate post for that.)

Assuming nothing happens to me between now and tomorrow morning…

I’LL BE EIGHTEEN

(claps, dabs, whips, drops, and does all the other dances at once)

I should be excited, right? I’ll officially an adult, which will bring a lot of opportunities, like being legally able drive a car. There will be more job opportunities. It reminds me how close college is, and reading away the summer will soon come to an unfortunate end. Along with the Madden and Call of Duty.

(Okay. Maybe not the Madden. Maybe)

Tomorrow is, honestly, sobering. For a lot of reasons.

One, it’s an opportunity to be grateful for another day. There are countless souls who weren’t blessed to see this morning, and many more won’t wake up tomorrow either. All I can think of right now are those millions of aborted children. Why? Because I’ve done so much wrong, and they did nothing, yet are unable to truly see the light of life. Making the most of the time I have is the best way to show how much I support them.

Two, it’s a pillar (of the many) in my personal quest for defiance. honestly, if you had asked me if I’d make it to 18 a few years ago, I would’ve said no. I was depressed. I was on edge. I could barely process a few minutes, never mind looking years in advance. But it’s not just about the number, but what I’ve done with them.

I always thought myself a weirdo, so when I learned I had Aspergers Syndrome, I wasn’t too surprised. My transformation over the last five years has been nothing short of divinely inspired, and I am always grateful to the infinity on high for ordering my life in the way it has. I don’t understand it, but I am grateful.

I wouldn’t be here without it.

Part of that order is running into you. How I turned some god (awful) poetry into what this blog is today is a proof that the writing community is loyal and faithful to those within it. The nurturing, encouragement, and support I’ve received has been endless. Everyday I’m reminded by someone of how this post was amazing, or this poem left them speechless. I hear “wonderful” a lot, too. I can’t put into words how grateful I am to you all for what you’ve done. You helped turned me into someone who isn’t afraid to talk his condition, and the shortcomings of them. You helped me face my addictions, my fears, and people I could never speak to in person.

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So, on my birthday eve, I think I did and didn’t answer my own question.

It is just another day. A reminder of not just far you’ve grown, but remembering the people that you grew with. That makes it a little extra special.

 

I work tomorrow, and I might do something fun afterwards. (Any movie recommendations?) Other than that, more reading and writing and preparing for the days ahead.

Peace out. God bless. Thank you all and I can’t wait to continue this journey.

Playing To The Beat Of The Winds

2

silent rolling hills

grasses still

as the trees standing above them

watchful soldiers

on the eve of battle

there’s a flower garden too

yellow

and purple petals particularly pushy

each inching higher than the other

for light

red brick preventing

further advance

Stonewall Jackson

come again

there’s a pretty little girl

dancing in the middle of it all

serenity mixed

with delicious vulgarity

as played with herself to the beat of the winds

enveloped me

fully clothed

yet confidently nude

in expression

and in awe of wonder

there’s no one to tell her

how to dress

or how to live

so she danced

she danced

and everyone that came near her

became white as the milk

that dripped

from her bosoms

 

 

On The Problems Many Seem To Forget…

annies-road

there’s emptiness

on this road

stepping to the beat

of hunger

poverty

and shame

every blink of my eye

sends a waterfall of compassion

every rise of my chest

charges the air with electricity

to power the depressed

and give legs to the fallen

I was not sent here

to give the good news

I am

the news

all around me

men fiddle with lives

as a girl does with her dolls

but when she becomes a woman

she handles her children

as her very breath

these men have not matured

past the idles of babes

yet we call them masters

leaders

revolutionaries

along with the downcast

and the plagued

I spit upon their presumptuous ways

and in battle I will strike them

cut them down

divide them up among the angels of death

for their time has ended

the sons of men were given

a task from above

to watch over his creation

to love all

as he is loved

but he tore down his father

and ripped apart his mother

he turned brother towards sister

and the animals too follow

in these desolate ways

 

 

 

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