split hit

hurt becomes normal
no one notices
you can feel yourself start to fade away
no grace
stuck in a place
you can’t escape
loose words
lose meaning
hurt becomes normal
you can’t kill what is already dead
and he can’t take back
what he fails to see
and all the ugly deeds and hurtful words he said
just like grandpa
who confused your little head
with words that don’t match actions
when the line becomes too blurred
knowing wrong
but told it’s right
being sold as gold
until one day you’re old
and filled with fright
no one to trust
no one who understands your everlasting struggle
no one understands your daily fight
silenced
into solitude
made to feel stupid
grayed out until you’ve so pushed down
with only vampires and clowns
all around
you lose yourself
and don’t want to be found
it’s not worth it
nothing is worth it
and
you used to have light
you used to have light….

it’s all gone.









The Sacred Nine

One- on- one mixed-media art lessons in Los Angeles

Voice over Work

‘Cause talking is better than working

From My Reading

I spend a lot of time pondering what it all means.

Michael Lachman Writes

A Writer's Musings (And Likely Some Shameless Self-Promotion As Well)

Eclectic Theist

An outlet for my random thoughts and interests

I wonder, if I draw a line...

where would it flow...

Poetry Breakfast

Serving a little poetic nourishment Monday thru Friday and featuring a Short Play Saturday Matinee to read.

Life in Poetry, Prose and Pictures

Tales From The Life Of A Soul