My Thoughts

My thoughts in my mind are quiet, most of the time. That is not to say they are silent.  When they want to get noticed they scream and often startle me. Pictures without sound, visions without words; but the knowledge is there. The sharpness of a razor or the softness of silk, they are all mine.

It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. There are clouds and thunder too. Tornados and earthquakes shake all that is inside me. It’s during those storms I find it difficult to quiet and clam those thoughts. They had been ignored for too long. Just as if you ignore a friend for too long, they get upset and let you know about it.

The darkness of those thoughts, sometimes cause me concern. But not that I would act upon them. Just that what others might feel about them. But if a person really knows me there shouldn’t be any fear. Some take the words I put down as a literal, future actions. If that were true. I’d already have blood on my hands.

Just as the dark is dark, my light is bright. You can feel the warmth of my sun. For when it shines it is shared, it is for everyone not just for me. It leads me away from the darkness so I’m able to see out of the tunnel I painted myself into. Back and forth I travel. My thoughts never stop. Even my dreams go from light to dark.

The darkness in my dreams affects how I feel when I wake up. It’s a very uneasy feeling. Like something bad is about to happen and I can’t do anything about it. Just to let it happen. I hate that helplessness.

My mind, my thoughts; my brain never stops. Good, bad, happy, sad; it’s all there. Pain, tears and agony all share the same space. It’s not just one thing or the other. They are all together, taking their part in every thought. That may or may not become an action.

Blood, sweat, tears along with the smiles, kisses and rainbows. The light and the dark. But I will admit; the dark is much easier to write.



My mind is full of questions. I don’t have many answers. Some I may not want the answers.

Lots of why questions. Like why did my Dad’s friend pick me? Was it because I was the oldest? Why should that even matter?

I wasn’t of age. Not for another couple of years. I wasn’t curious at all in boys at the time. I was enjoying living in the country.

What did I do to deserve this? I did my chores. I did my homework. I even kept my room clean; sort of.

Did Dad make him angry and he wasn’t man enough to tell him? No way, they had been friends for many years.

This sort of thing didn’t happen where I’m from. At least I had never heard about it.

For the next two years, I didn’t say anything. I kept it all to myself; deep, deep inside.

After I turned eighteen it all stopped. Just as suddenly as it had started.

I didn’t think I would be believed. Not that I was a liar. I just thought Dad and the guy were close.

I told my Mom and she tells me, “I wish you would have told me sooner. We can’t do anything now that you are of age.

I took my Mom’s word for it. I know we live in the country, but we didn’t live up on a mountain some where.

Now a days I’d love to live in the mountains. Away from most all humans, but not all humans.

Later on she told me she told Dad. And that he threatened the guy. It made me feel a little better.

At the time, I wished my Dad would have taken his 12 gauge shotgun and blown the guys head off.

For many years I run myself down, I thought horrible things about myself. For many years I wanted to die.

There were a few times, I tried to take my own life. Thank God I wasn’t good at that.

I tried drowning how I felt, I tried to cover it up with drugs.

Of course there are a few years that are a blur. But that’s how I chose to deal with things.

After some time and feel I was getting no where. I gave counseling a try. I was glad I did.

There were other thing that had me troubled. Not just the initial issue.

I took the counseling for a year I guess. I let everything out. Knowing I wasn’t going to be condemned made it easier.

The counselor felt that I was making such progress, she began to wean me from my sessions. I was feeling confident.

Time went on and I did more than exist. I manage to actually live my life. I’ve had my ups and downs, just like everyone else. Some were pretty rough, having my heart broken for the first time really hurt. I almost wanted to die again.

It didn’t kill me and I didn’t want to kill myself. It wasn’t the end of the world and I manage to get through a few more broken hearts. None of which killed me either.

Time passed as it always will. I finally landed a relationship that is still going strong after seventeen years. In the beginning as in any relationship there were ups and downs. Real highs and even lower lows. But after a few years it leveled out. The lows were not as low and the highs became higher. With this young woman I was able to unveil things I hadn’t before. And despite my baggage she has stayed with me.

With all relationships, everyone has a little baggage. Some more than others. Some can make or break a relationship. Others aren’t worth giving a second thought. Then there are the ones that take time, time to understand; or figure out if it’s going to cause problems you can’t overlook. Whether you just can’t handle it for one reason or another.

I thought that I was actually past what happened to me. I thought that I had let it go. But I discovered that wasn’t true. I began to write things out. I started writing a story about revenge; more or less. It began to get very dark and bloody. But I found I was able to express thing I didn’t know was there. The hate and loathing. Despising the thought of his face entering my memory.

Living in a different state over six hundred miles away, would give me some comfort. Knowing it would be a snowball’s chance in hell that I’d see him. Things changed when my father fell ill. I had to go back home. I was hoping I wasn’t going to see him. Or if I saw him I could avoid being around him.

But when his wife asked to take me out to eat, I was hungry and had to accept. His wife has always been nice to me. She was an awesome friend to my mother. She told my mom things to tell me after she passed. She told me of a woman that was knowledgeable of my adoption.

Any how, a few days later my Dad passed away. He made it to seventy-nine years. Mom had passed many, many years prior. Dad didn’t remarry and I understood that completely. They had been together over twenty-five years. Of course they had their ups and downs as well. But they loved us all the same. I have two younger siblings. I still talk to the youngest.

Back to the main issue at hand. Off and on the thought of what that man did to me would cross my mind. The past few years I’ve used those thought to write great antagonists. But no matter how great, all their plans have been foiled.

On slight occasions I think of what I’d do if it wasn’t illegal. The things I’d do to him. Lots of torture comes to mind. Things I’ve never seen or heard of in any story. I don’t believe it would be appropriate for this format. As a matter of fact, someone might think I’d need mental help. I don’t need it. I know right from wrong and I’m not going to let him screw with my life any more.

God can do more to him than I could imagine. God knows the guy’s true weaknesses.


I feel like someone put me on the merry go round in grade school and spun me at mach something. Trying to do this on my phone; makes me want to chuck my phone. But I wont, they arent free. Hope everyone is having a good day.


The streetlights hang like globes of fire,
some quite new, some need to retire.
Poles made of pine, concrete and steel.
They block out the darkness and the night they steal.
That bubble of light could keep you safe,
but outside that ring you could be raped.
The darkness can break down the strong and consume the wary,
a strong imagination makes this all quite scary.
Places dark and unfamiliar,
in the shadows could be a serial killer.
Play in smart and don’t be stupid,
or you will wish you were never lucid.

The Tree

I tip my head all the way back,
sitting on the picnic table; the one with the crack.
The tree I’m under is full and green.
The top branches sway in the slight breeze.
I never knew how beautiful were these things; this tree.
The colors put my heart at ease.
There’s green, gray and blue peaking through
I’d like to have someone with me and that someone is you.
The dark gray, some charcoal run through its body.
I wish I could climb it but I don’t have the body.
The table is brown and the paint is peeling.
In my mind I am kneeling.
The comfort of seeing such an astonishing sight.
So wonderfully awesome a tear comes to one eye.
God created both heaven and earth,
each and every day should be our rebirth.

If You Must

The tears in my eyes, have yet dried. My soul aches, feeling it has partially died. Without you near, the world I fear; not sure I can carry on. But if you must go, I cannot keep you.

The sun has left my days, the moon hidden from my nights. How torn apart my life will be, if I’m made to set you free. And if you must leave, then leave.

No smiles will dawn on my face, no more. The laughter has left,  I can’t even a giggle. Sad is my heart, the beats no longer yours. Beaten like the sands; of a weathered shore. But if you must part, you must.

My life will never be the same, I didn’t treat this like a game. If it was, I definitely lost; that is certain. The points were never in my favor. But if you must walk away, you must.

In My Head

Thoughts of an evil man, who had done evil things to someone that trusted him. A friend’s daughter that thought he was okay. For years she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t think anyone would believe her. But when she gathered the strength to tell, her mother said it was too late. That she was over eighteen and nothing could be done.

It really sucked for her, living in a small town of less than three thousand people. The fact that her parents weren’t exactly the most educated. Probably had no idea of such crimes. That something like this didn’t happen in their small town. Her mother told her, that her dad threatened the man with the lose of his life. But only if he was to touched her again.

Sure. At the time it may have sounded good. But it didn’t take away the sick feeling she would get, when he still visited. She couldn’t understand. Why didn’t her dad go ahead and physically do harm to that man. Why weren’t there the ways of trapping such vile creatures, like there is today.

The thoughts of hurting him don’t come as often, but they are still there. She’d still like to torture him. She has given it a lot of thought to the idea. How she would trap him, where she’d trap him and what she would do to him for days. But she knows, if she were to act upon those images and realize them. She’d be no better than him. And she is better than him.

A Human’s Static

Sounds emanating from beyond the deep. Drowning out the morning melody of the unseen birds. They try hard to make the unwanted sound disappear. But it’s no use. The ramblings of the village idiot distracts my train of thoughts of songs and poetry. Do I yell at the idiot? It would probably make her ramble longer and louder.

It would be the majority of the village that would tie her to a stake. Not to burn as they would a witch. But to make a mockery of her chatter. Subject her to their ramblings, none stop for days. The stake is on the outside of town, away from us all. So only the idiot has to hear. I see no other way.

A friend she isn’t, to anyone. There isn’t a person safe from her words. In her eyes, we are the fools, we are the ignorant. She has no  faults of her own. By herself she will be. We can no longer handle her poisoned words. By herself perhaps she will poison herself to the point she looses her mind and becomes silent. We can only hope


Broken mind, broken thought. A mind lost with the chaos of its surroundings. Turmoil floods the brain and darkness settles in. Hate breeds hate and compassion is void. Our hearts harden with each passing moment. Only to become a useless stone.

People pass one another, not a smile is shared. No light in your eyes, they only return glares of disgust. Fangs of jealousy show when they open their mouths as they speak. Venom spews like poison to any on looker. Adding fuel to the fire, that burns our soul to ash.

Not able to beauty, the eyes are clouded by the darkness.. nothing shines, all is dull,  dingy; covered in an onyx hue. Spines sag with sadness and gloom. No reason to look up. The sun blocked by the clouds of despair. Not a ray is able to break through. Blanketed by oppression.

The blackness inside spreads and seeps to the outer. Everyone can see the nothingness that has become. The nothing that has covered all things, until there is, no good. No light. No love.

Another Side

My eyes burn red, from the pounding in my head.

Crimson drips from my fingers tips, I can taste it on my lips.

My jaw is tight, from clinching with all my might.

Pleased with the carnage I have caused, I obey no man’s law.

Seething with pleasure, no pain can be measured.

Bones are broken, flesh is torn.

A new psychopath has just been born.

Chunks I tear out, with my teeth,

On your best day, I can’t be beat.

Patients I have none, they all are gone.

Snapping off digits, just like a fern frons.

My heart beats fast, the sweat is pouring.

What I do, is far from boring.

Prison no way, I’m not going.

For my talents I won’t be showing.

To myself, I’ll keep it all.

This I’m sure will prevent my fall.