A little bit of my darkness

My hands are shaking today. I hate the shaking. It’s like the set up to the downfall of my mind. The doors are rattling and everyone is screaming. The hinges have loosened and the cages holding in my demons aren’t as strong as they used to be.

My fucking demons are screaming at me.

They hate me. They’ll ruin me if given the chance.

But sometimes I wonder what would happen if I let them out. Would they really ruin my life or show me the life I could have? Could live? Should be living?

A little chaos could be good for the soul.

The bottles that hold my emotions are breaking. They’ve been packed in too tight. It looks like a mess in there. Be careful of the broken glass!

I’m losing myself!  OR Am I finding myself?

Was there really every anything worth saving? Is there anything left worth salvaging? I think my demons are laughing at me now. They know I’m losing it. That small bit of control I still had. Why am I so afraid of losing something I was never proud of to begin with? Was I ever proud of myself?

Rarely… only when I let the demons out.

©C. O’Connor 2016

Success

Help me down

I’ve been up here for so long

I can’t see my feet way down under me

Where did the world go?

Where did the ground go?

Help my down.

I don’t want to be up here anymore.

I want out

I want my feet back

I want the street back

I wanted to be up here

I wanted to see the view

Didn’t know it meant losing myself

losing you

I didn’t know

Help me down from this heavenly looking hell

Help me down.

©O’Connor, 2016

Cleaners

I’m gonna drag you through the cleaners

wonder if “deep clean” can fix your mess

can I bleach the grime and rust away?

when is the last time you used this thing?

or gave it some fresh air

or took it out for a spin

or felt anything at all

It’s a shame to let it waste away in here

does it even still work?

WD-40 and duct tape should get it going

… It explains a lot though

you’ve been reckless

apathetic

the world doesn’t exist

So, you’ve kept it locked up in here.

too long

let it waste and decay

No worries though

I can get the stains out.

I’ll drag you through the cleaners.

©C. O’Connor, 2016

#4

My name is Darkness

My name is Fear

My name is anything that haunts you dear.

My name is Hate

My name is Cold

My name is all your nightmares hold.

My name is fixed

My name is all

My name is in every lost soul’s call.

I am here

I am there

I am within the darkest stare.

I am the shadows

I am the light

I am the thing haunting your dreams at night.

My name is forgotten

My name is unknown

My name is in the shiver on your neck when you think you are alone.

©C. O’Connor, 2016

People Watching – Airport

I have two hours until my flight is supposed to depart. There’s not much to do in an airport but wait and ignore the people around you. You can read, listen, listen to music, sleep, eat, stare into space, but it’s all done with a few hundred people within throwing range. I’ve always enjoyed people watching at the airport. I give all of the interesting ones nicknames. I have a small obsession with naming things.

There’s Flower Girl across the aisle to the left. Who looks done up as if she is entering a pageant. Except she is also wearing ill fitting jeans and crappy running shoes. I judge people by their shoe choices. She looks bored as she twists some reddish brown hair around one of her stumpy fingers and chews on her gum like a cow chews on grass. She got her name from the huge red flower stuck on the side of her head.

Then there are the three Stoic Starers. Three people sitting in three chairs, creating a small wall of hopelessness and lack of emotion. The two men and one woman all sat in their seats at different times over the last hour, so they aren’t together. But the sheer emptiness of their gazes as their planes become more and more delayed will link them forever.

Next is the TDH: Tall Dark and Handsome. This one was nodding off for a while, so he decided to stand against a wall. Usually I would be impressed with this decision, but now I’m not so sure. It’s a busy day and empty seats are hard to come by. That means that the tall, tan skinned, blue eyed beauty of a man is now stuck with his fate of a numb ass from sitting on the floor, because his seat was quickly taken over by a large woman in a moo-moo covered with daisies. It doesn’t look like she is leaving any time soon.

Oh god, I just made eye contact with one of the stoic starers. I think she saw into my soul.

©C. O’Connor, 2016

 

Rant #1: leftovers

I AM THE LEFTOVERS

that sit in the fridge until they go bad, and you not only throw them away. You are afraid to

touch them

smell them

look at them

You run them outside and slam the lid closed as fast as your arms and physics allow. Then you walk away. Back to your

nonstinking

kitchen. Where I no longer reside. You have been rid of me.

I am gone.

Rotting away.

But at some point you wanted me.

At some point your mouth watered at the thought of me, and your insides growled. At some time.

I was all you wanted.

But you allowed me to rot before making me a part of

you.

©C. O’Connor, 2016

Would you?

If I told you to do it

would it be okay?

Would you?

If I said okay

If I gave you permission

would you?

Can you?

Do you even know?

Could you know?

Unless the situation was posted

right in front of you.

If I told you to do it

would it be okay?

Would you?

©C. O’Connor, 2016