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Literature Text
The moments pass, watching like the hours
unblinking
unbreathing
until I stand and fall; Or will I?
I ask into the hollow shell of a mind
that I have called my home.
But wait, do you hear?
the soft voice, like the sand
coloring the base of the hourglass.
I step forward, if just for a moment
to meet the voice
the sound rolling off her tongue
into the thin space between us.
Can you hear me now?
Could you ever?
Will you ever?
I close my eyes for a life.
unblinking
unbreathing
until I stand and fall; Or will I?
I ask into the hollow shell of a mind
that I have called my home.
But wait, do you hear?
the soft voice, like the sand
coloring the base of the hourglass.
I step forward, if just for a moment
to meet the voice
the sound rolling off her tongue
into the thin space between us.
Can you hear me now?
Could you ever?
Will you ever?
I close my eyes for a life.
Literature
flummox
the aftertaste of your apologies reminds me
of hospital bureaucracy, filling
in forms
with broken fingers.
asymmetric doubt lingering
in waiting rooms,
as nurses walk by, tiptoeing between
the lines of life and death.
Literature
Behind a Veil
When a suicide occurs, it stops everything, even if just for a moment. The signs of a suicidal person might all be there.
Appearing depressed or sad most of the time.
Talking or writing about death or suicide.
Withdrawing from family and friends.
Feeling hopeless.
Feeling helpless.
Feeling strong anger or rage.
Feeling trapped -- like there is no way out of a situation.
Experiencing dramatic mood changes.
Abusing drugs or alcohol.
Exhibiting a change in personality.
Acting impulsively.
Losing interest in most activities.
Experiencing a change in sleeping habits.
Experiencing a change in eating habits.
Performing poorly at work
Literature
mausoleum
my dad's name spelled backwards
is dermatillomania.
i am scared tonight; the light is leaking out of
your nose like a galaxy tipped on its side.
you are melting into an abysmal bliss that
resembles the white-hot noise you taste
when the god you don't believe in dissolves
the rags on which you wrote your life in braille.
for god's sake, old man, listen when i tell you
that staring fear in the face with closed eyes is
faith, not the way the black-hole emptiness
in your life perpetuates itself in the holes
in your cheeks and the rain-ridden sinkholes
in the avenues from your mouth to your eyes.
the solid ground you're praying on
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Sorry it's taken me so long to post... thanks for reading!! 
© 2011 - 2024 The-Manatee-King
Comments9
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i've always had a thing for sands and hourglasses. And I love this. Painfully beautiful. 