Category Archives: Catharsis

Fully Empty

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I can write a thousand
words of anger,
Soak my poison to paper
with no end in sight,
Unleash my tormented army
of demons
and scream out my heart
until no sound emits.
I can give out a thousand
lashings,
Soak the bleeding wounds
with coarse rock salt,
Unleash the darkest
Goddess of war
and scream my battle cries
until victorious.
Yet I cannot find just one
word of love,
Absorb my rawest self
out of these cells
and release this untamed fury
from my breast.
No, you will not find that
day of passage,
There is no redemption to
be found in me,
You live a life spent cast out
into this limelight,
And die a death from which
one cannot be freed.

©Y.E.S 2013

A Fond Farewell…

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The more I know
The more I despise
Your ugly truth
Your sordid guise
I see your stain
Is everywhere
I know your mark
I loathe your stare
Leave blank your page
You hide behind
But I know your rhythm
and I know your kind
You run, you hide
But you leave a trail
So sick inside
Believing your tales
My prince, my pauper
My troubled whore
Fuck you…adieu
I need you no more.

©Y.E.S 2013

Untitled

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Self imposed prison
But how did I get here?
Locked in at sundown,
a never ending story.
Barrelled walls
Vaulted around my head
Fish eyed glass,
Impenetrable.
I can see it all –
but I can’t
I hear everything –
but I don’t.
Dervishly whirling
and pounding on my
own skull,
Currents of dry tears –
They won’t stop
their assault.
Masked faces float
before me,
Feigned concern forced
forth from the matriarch,
Tearing at flesh
with parched fingers
and devouring stolen
ammunition.
A mouthful of routine deceit
closes my eyes,
Open them to the
temporary cloak of day…

©Y.E.S 2013

This is the first piece of which I am sure will be many, as I revisit a past that inevitably led to who I am today. A reflective study of my journey with Bi-Polar disorder.

My Darkness, Brighter Than Your Light

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You molested my darkness
With the harsh buzzing glow
Of your unnatural
Neon light.
Vacant promises
and pregnant pauses,
Always leaving me unnerved
as I tried to convince myself
to trust your frivolously
over zealous encroachment.
Silent words devoid of meaning
Laced with rotting emotion
Spewed forth from just one
of innumerable twisted shadows.
Raping my mind and stealing
my most inner sanctum,
Planting your festering illusion
and consuming all which
was not yours to take.
Vile troll, vapid monster,
Live in all your glorious filth!
I loathe the day I became
another soul wandering lost
in your labyrinth,
Armed with flames
I torched your brittle structure,
Smoked you out and
burnt it down, victorious!
Shrouded in my darkness,
Rid of your unnatural fluorescence,
My black light,
Brighter than any ray of your putrescence.

©Y.E.S 2013

The Collector, Part 2

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Lies you squandered
to make me believe
I was the only one.
Yet faces
and bodies
We’re manically collected
as you stroked
a malevolently growing ID.
I was not a willing victim,
but naivety and ignorance
to one so disturbed
is what plagued me.
Strings pulled
by an expert puppeteer,
Gauging each manipulated move,
Emotions played so well,
Until I opened my eyes…
One awkward play
So flippantly made
Began your demise…
Oh, but how well
YOU played victim!
Almost had me caught…
But roots of doubt
had grown strong…
And twice blinded,
I am not.
Play your game,
Delegate the pain,
Pull on your cloak
and become someone else.
I’ll never understand
this sickness…
Because it’s not a sickness
at all,
Just the tattered mask
of a collector.

©Y.E.S 2013

One Final Gift

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He became
something I could not
even like.
Something I suppose
he always was,
but my naïve heart
and mind
could not see,
and as I grew,
refused to see.
Yet time and again
I found myself back
in his embrace,
lying next to him
in a bed only
slept in.
He held me close
and kissed me
like he meant it.
Spoke sweet nothings
that truly became
sweet nothings.
And yet time would pass,
And longing would grow,
And we would find ourselves
tangled once again
in the same old routine
until it finally broke.
Years and stages pass…
Lives grow empty
and then complete,
and then in disarray.
The knowing glance,
The cool pretence,
Desire a decade old…
Beneath the silver glow,
immersed in an ocean
a reality away,
all self control
takes leave.
An awkward touch
and a brush of
hungry lips deprived
for countless years…
Hands and arms and legs
entwined,
and fates thrust forth
once again.
This sense of peace
and a circle complete,
lasts for bittersweet
moments…
Realizations dawn
and relief enters
a once incomplete heart.
Years spent pining,
tears wasted in vain.
Mere words and empty
confessions spilled,
drenched in darkness
and fermented courage.
He is not who I sought,
he is everything
I no longer want.
But I still remember fondly
his final gift of respect,
A gift I know he does not
give easily.
A gift that is the single thing
that has kept me from
loathing him
completely.

©Y.E.S 2013

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It’s easy to write
When I’m angry,
So simple to
bleed out dry,
Everything streams
Out so clearly,
And then ebbs
When I don’t wish to die.
Plagued by creation,
Not many,
Plagued by this life
Are so few,
Close my eyes
I’m forsaken,
Closing my eyes
Just won’t do.
It’s easy to seethe
When you’re lying,
So simple to
Bury this dead,
Everything happens
When trying,
And then nothing
Shall happen instead.

©Y.E.S 2013

Sir Vanity

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Seek out all the
pretty faces,
Hunt them down
One by one.
If the beauty there
Lifts not your pulse,
Then hunt down the
perfect bodies…
Surely famished,
Bones threatening flesh,
Volume only where it counts
for men like you.
Deny your lust,
I care no longer,
I’ve seen through your
pitiful cloaks,
Until, alas, it made me ill;
Your insult to my mind.
I turn my back to you sir,
No second cheek for you sir,
Rebirth yourself
as often as you see fit,
Caught again by you;
I think not, sir.

Y.E.S 2013

3:40 am

Awakened by something that has been absent since he first arrived in her life, she blindly reaches for her clock to confirm the hour. Realizing, that for the first time, she’d do anything to rouse him from sleep, reach out to him and talk, expel her laments, but that is no longer in the realm of possibilities. It seems as though a million moments were wasted, even though millions more were plucked lovingly from the here and now, even the in between.

A beautiful silver cord, woven of dreams and fantasy, reality and necessity, had done what seemed impossible and stretched out between the miles, connecting and binding two lost souls. At first, her walls were impenetrable, but swiftly and expertly, he brought them down. The truth is, she WANTED them down. She wanted HIM to bare his mighty battle axe and destroy them, bit by bit, leaving her raw and exposed, only for him, to show him, and PROVE to him, that once and for all she was ready, she WANTED to be standing there before him, naked, bleeding her past, vulnerable, open and prepared to fight her demons to the death, and give him the place in her soul she had long ago buried and mourned.

For her soul, she no longer mourns, he had repaired it, gently, lovingly, with the beautiful cord of silver connecting them, he expertly wound it round and round the tattered remains. Making it better, stronger: he healed. Became one with it. Removed the vile, blackened emptiness and replaced it with an eternity of love, for lifetimes to come, indestructible to time and fate…or so she foolishly believed…

That perfectly beautiful silver cord now waits expectantly for the occupant at the other end to return. Floating weakly in the in between, it dies more with each passing minute. The beauty and trust that had been its origin slowly fades away and that cord becomes dull and tattered. It floats blindly in the dreams that have turned grey…

Y.E.S 2013

Torn

She sits alone in her cave after the morning tasks are completed. She ponders all that has transpired over the last few days. Adorned with beautiful jewels of love and promises, bearing the protection of the Dark Raven Goddess. But still, there she sits, alone, confused, hurt…betrayed.

Somewhere across many lands and bodies of water, he sits on his throne without thought or compassion for the damage he’s done. His collection of conquests, his poorly veiled lies…it has all come crashing down on him as his bride bares the proof. What lies does he breathe in defence? The same lies he’s uttered to each and every one of his conquests? Or did he collapse and bare her the truth of his soul, the soul that was supposed to belong to the girl in the cave? The very same girl he led to believe was his saviour, his muse, his soul?

Gently tracing the contours of the perfect green amber, admiring the spirals that were meant to represent the strongest of bonds, trying desperately to feel the power of the amulet she bares on silver chain…she feels nothing but loss. Her soul has once again been torn to pieces, shattered by lies she once again allowed to penetrate her solid stone wall.

He draws the potent smoke in from his pipe, hearing a muted plea from somewhere almost a thousand miles away. Rather than acknowledging the call, he takes another pull and gazes through the window upon the grounds of his palace. Fear intrudes upon what used to be a wild escape, the hunt, the chase and finally the capture of the daughter of the Dark Raven Queen. The lies he told, the webs he gently weaved, becoming confident in his webs, as he’d escaped exposure for many years. Now, he finally faced her, his bride, from whom he’d sought refuge in the hearts and dreams of so many others, she had unearthed his vile little collection of broken hearts and tortured souls.

And yet, in the wakes of the truth discovered, she sits alone with a silent prayer to the Goddess that she could still somehow be his muse, that what she’s found, what her soul always feared, couldn’t possibly be. Silence continues to ring out, the ties that bound no longer there, the girl knows that hope is lost, lies have become truths, and she was nothing but another pretty face stashed away in his collection of so many others, exactly like her. Not only had she bared her soul, but she had freely given it to him. Her heart, trust, dreams and body…all for him, to feed upon freely, to rebuild what she had become to believe was a broken and beaten man, left empty and pained by years of neglect and abuse. She hasn’t been the only one, the place by his side had not solely been hers, and in this realization, she breaks, sobs rip through her body and her spirit cannot absorb the pain and she laments the destruction of her precious walls that he had so fervently torn down…she knows now that she must begin to rebuild, and more solid now than ever before.

He is seething anger as he comes to find that they’ve spoken…two of his secret conquests had broken down and shared truths, shared the lies he spewed, uncovered that he’d uttered the same words, professed the same undying, soul sharing love to each of them. They were not completely unique to him, only two more precious gems to stash away in his hidden lair…the lair his bride had finally discovered. He continues to ignore the plea from the girl in the cave…

She has decided to let it be, she knows his anger is piqued because she broke her vow of silence. She had consorted with the one he’d named a demon, and in doing so, found all the answers to the questions he’d refused to acknowledge. Deep within her she holds fast to the vow she has now made with herself, to let him go, let him fester in his stinking pile of shit. Yet, even deeper still, she knows she will give him a chance. If he accepts her cry, recognizes her call, she knows she will let him speak, let him vomit out all the lies, and prays that he will finally tell her the truth, for in that deepest of places, she still wants to belong to him. She STILL believes she can be his saviour and muse… She cannot remove the entrancing jewels, she needs to bare the amulet on silver chain, for even though she knows the truth, she still wants to believe in an undying, star crossed, soul binding love…silly girl.

He sits on his throne, fear invades his every thought as he watches his palace crumble, the lush lands blacken and his bride heaves venomous and well deserved hatred at his heart and mind…but not his soul, for such a creature cannot truly have a soul. Without thought, without care and most certainly without love, he lets the girl sit alone in her cave, wondering, waiting and dying from the inside out.

Y.E.S 2013