Inside Suicide

They sought the shadow in the shell,

telling stories of her youth in hope

the memories would remind her,

but the kind were blind and the rope

twitched, she kicked without falling,

silently calling for someone to kill her past,

and, at last, there was peace without pain,

the strain ceased, released, she danced her last.



The Forsaken



I mined my memories with no thought,
For my own safety, no harness or shield,
As I capered down the corridors to catch
What cowered in the catacombs of conscience.

Something cringed in the consciousness,
And as I stripped the valley of my morose mind,
(forsaking the raw materials and abusing myself,
By removing the ore of opportunities and,

Culling the capacity to choose).
All that was left in the darkness, the harshness,
Was a feral child, who will become oblivious
To pain and defiant in the face of oblivion.