My battle for self rages on.

I am parts of me and all of me, separate and whole all at once.

My mind, always racing, pulls ahead of the heaviness in my heart.

But my heart comes in a million broken pieces, able to extend beyond possibility. It does not know it has to follow any rules. It can be lagging behind while leading.

My body… my body has crashed and burned in a spectacular show exposing the fragility of skin and bones.

And I am left starved.

Hunger is a passion.
It sears and claws and begs…
Feed me… touch me… consume me…
Take this part of me that wants.
It is dying to be free.
Feel it, smooth and soft, and jagged.
Breathe in the scent of discontent.
Embrace the folds of tenderized skin.
There is beauty somewhere here;
it is dying to be seen.
Stoke the flame, stroke the shame
bring me to my knees.


My heart and mind race past my body, flapping in the breeze.

They do not stop.

They do not see.

They do not want it to be me.


The anthem for the broken people is part song, part chant, part silence.

It has no rhythm. No rhyme. No pattern.

It has highs and lows and in-betweens.

Sometimes, it’s one, clear thought.

Most times, it’s a long rambling journey like the one they told you once you would have to take until you would find the end, past the twists and turns and drops hiding around thorn bushes and smooth rocks, under blue skies streaked with the blood red of your childhood and the blackness of your youth, and into the future of either victory or death, although you never know which one you want to be your end, so you keep going around and around on this rambling road until you can’t take it anymore and have to choose something so that you can go somewhere else and leave the anthem of the broken people lying on the ground with the shattered pieces of the shadow you used to be put together by a hope you once dreamed, only to realize that there was a piece missing and there is a hole where you should be.

When the silence starts to choke the little bits of life left, a haunting hum floats through the air.

The anthem gathers speed and adds the drums to its rising sound as it hits notes only broken people hear.

They gather together, all the broken people, and raise their silent voices as they try to break the world so that it will know how they feel.

Only, the world, already broken, has been singing this song, chanting the words for millions of years.

The anthem has nowhere left to go.

Dying down, it travels back inside the holes of the broken people and widens them so that next time, maybe, there will be more broken people to share the broken tune of a broken anthem with a broken world filled with the holes broken people made.


Can you hear it?

Never Can Say Goodbye

Why is it that every single time I have to leave you, even just for a short while, I feel an ache that paralyzes me and turns my heart cold?

Why is it that I cannot bear to be away from you?

What power do you possess that can chain me down and make me fight whenever I must break away?

What is hidden in your core that talks to me, haunts me, taunts me and sometimes ignores me?

Who made you my shield, when I was not looking for something to protect me?

Who made me yearn to be with you, always?

You are just a place – ground, grass, trees, stone, sky….beautiful, endless sky…

There is not much of you – mountains, dessert, valleys, plains…merging together…as one…

A land – torn, split, ravaged by hate….standing alone…like me…victorious…

Prevailing – despite.

And maybe we are one…

because maybe you were made for me…

and I for you…

and the reason you hold me tight…

is because I will not let you go.

So dear, dear land…

Wait for me, for just a little while.

I’ll be back with more resolve to remain faithful to you.

And you and I can continue waiting, together.