- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Schism of My Reality
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Dark an Scary Spiraling Dreams
Haunt as old ghost Banshee's scream
Existing inside with no real feeling
Yet cracking my soul apart slowly
Leaving precious memories lacerated
Red Bleeding infected scars open
Ripped apart at my fragile vital seams
Self inflicted jaded cuts cleverly covered up
Laughing lies about my mixed up past throe
Could daddy really have tormented me like that
My discomfort becomes consciously known
Anxiety and grief grow and visibly show
How do I get over these grim recollections
Trying to drown them in Whiskey and Vicoden
After light with no hind sight or healing
Living one day at a time with cruel suffering
Heart burns with this irreversible mocking pain
Invoking Schism in my brain is the only way
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