Blue-Notebook

She cannot sleep for fear of dreams That haunt her tired heavy head So lies awake and tangles sheets Locked in her prison of a bed The thoughts that whirl behind her eyes Scare her to death (or so it's said) Each failed hope leaves her fragile mind Full to the brim with senseless dread Ghostly whispers force her to walk The same old paths she'd always tread Closing eyes rubbed red and raw She waits in vain for limbs of lead As the curtain falls on her eerie stage Of dreams that haunt her restless head

Flat slabs make perfect grips. Sharp points make perfect steps. They tell you not to look down, And that's exactly why you do. It looks like a clean, easy drop. You can feel the air rushing through you, The rocks rising to meet you in a smooth, soft caress. Your hands loosen, And you wonder what it's like. Blank. Calm. Free? You feel nothing, And so you feel everything. Steady now, count the heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Release.

When trouble slumbers I lie awake In the teasing patterns of a dreamlike mist And I search for the start of my fatal mistake WIth red-rimmed eyes I yearn to break The imposing walls of the moonlight-kissed When trouble slumbers I lie awake My bones clench and instinctively shake My shoulders hunch as my thoughts slowly twist And I search for the start of my fatal mistake I cry a river through a frozen lake Fingernails bite in a white-knuckled fist When trouble slumbers I lie awake Trying to live through an eternal ache With dizzying doubts of a snow-pale wrist And I search for the start of my fatal mistake I spread my wings for

The face at the starting line at last turns towards my own, and I will my hands to refrain from clenching with my stomach. I nod slightly in confirmation; I can go now (do I have to?), I am ready (will I fail?). The leather reins are stiff and rough in my shaking grasp, the horse beneath me suddenly a stranger as he dances from side to side, and I hold my breath in anticipation. I glance once more towards the timer. My mouth asks if I may start, my eyes plead for rescue from imminent terror. The answering affirmation forces me to at last look up, past the blurred white poles, past the haphazardly scattered clumps of horses, to the somehow c

You feel what you feel, and nothing can change that. Say you're afraid. Afraid of things that will come, and more afraid of things that have passed. Arms might comfort, words might soothe, one foot will always go in front of the other, but you will still be afraid. Say you're unhappy. Your lips might smile, you might force your eyes to gaze up and out instead of down, the sun might be shining, the sky might be blue, but you will still be unhappy. Say you're in pain. Undeniable, crippling pain. Your hands might be held steady, your scars might fade, time will undoubtedly pass, but you will still be in pain. Say you're in love. It might sca

One bar is loneliness, two bars are strife Three bars are the twisted pull of a clean cold knife Four bars bend with the forced attempts of hope Five bars offer five impulsive ways to cope Six bars shudder with the weight of the world Seven bars shine the light of broken dreams unfurled Eight bars murmur I pray the Lord my soul to take Nine bars scream the thoughts behind each mistake The shivering wraith in the shadows makes ten As every bar longs for the suffering to end

Every face is faked Every laugh is learned Every smile hides a sob Every tear takes its toll Every answer is an ache Every wince was once a war Every stumble leaves a scar Every mark has a message

Frost-coated leaves, fragile with age Waltz uselessly in the buffeting wind. His thin, sad frame shaking with the effort Of slowly forcing his cracked paws forward, He at last heaves a loud, ragged sigh And lets his body creak to the ground. I fold into a ball next to his massive, drooping head The icy cement numbing my denim-covered knees, And I knead my fingers into his thick, patchy fur Helpless. The leaves spiral into frozen dirt And lie glacier-still Lifeless.

47 winces. 47 strikes. 47 dashed hopes. 47 silent fights. 47 wishes. 47 tears cried. 47 clenched fists. 47 mistakes to hide. 47 heartaches. 47 drops. 47 smile fakes. 47... stops.