Tag: Health

Operate On Me

Posted in Love, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Operate on the patient.

 

It seems she’s lost her patience.

 

The machine’s beeping is slowing down.

 

There is no heart. She seems to need a replacement.

 

An ice sickle lodged in her chest.

 

No wonder she is so still..

 

Remaining non-responsive..

 

She’ll be sent to rehab, she cant recall the feeling.

 

Numb from all previous emotional beatings.

 

She is weary from the world’s revolving, she grabbed the revolver, and turned her back on the world.

 

The Doctors go in for surgery, as she lies unconscious asking God,

 

“Who murdered me?”

“They told me emotions were a bitch, but I didn’t think she ever heard of me!”

 

 

She’s angry.

 

The nurses forgot to stick her with the IV.

Now pain is the only joy she seeks.

 

Four doctors all inside her, trying relocate her heart, but they’re only blind, to what they don’t want to see.

Her heart is there; instead look what its grown to be.

Embodying an igloo — a shelter for the feelings she never learned to release.

 

She never felt capable.

 

Staring down at the table, screaming at the doctors

“Someone Help Me!”.…..”Please!”

 

Her feelings are confusing because ironically agony brings her relief.

 

The world is in the waiting room anticipating her release, with a knife in the back pocket. Aimed at her back, for the next time she attempts to flee.

 

Unfortunately we don’t know which paralyzed her, the world or the doctors operating.

 

However now she is alive and conscience…except without much strength to feel

 

Currently she sits alone rehabilitating her trust.

 

Is insurance overrated?

 

–Leighrick

Seeing Sinking Ships

Posted in Love, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Seeing Sinking Ships

I see you rowing the boat I was once stuck in.

I was looking for an island or somewhere to rest my head,

Cause I was stressing from the questions.

I was hurt from the guilt of winds that kept blowing in my direction.

I know it hurts and even with a life vest on, it still feels as tho you’re drowning.

That relation-ship’s anchor broke loose and left a hole.

You’re sinking in your melancholy, yet you find yourself floating in the right direction.

Peep the radars, even in extreme stealth they’ll still manage to find you.

Hearts ain’t no joke, so what’s suppose to be punchlines are more like knockouts.

Some how this all defines you —

What do you do when the person you love defies you?

All this time staring love in the face, but it was made up…

They threw your heart back in your face, you were being lied to.

What should you do?

Your heart cant think, but your mind is the reason you feel the way you do.

All the broken promises and fuzzy memories.

I remember — you don’t need to keep reminding me of what we use to be!

How could this even be?

How was I not able to see?

Falling for another, yet you always seem to catch me.

I had grown complacent with it being a thought,  maybe even a reoccurring dream, but I refuse to make this pain my reality.

–Leighrick

Goodnight Never Goodbye

Posted in Life, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

This is Real.

The hurt in my chest,

the plugged ears,

the consistency of tears.

My cries for some understanding.

—

Unanswered.

Deceit has sent me overboard.

Like a coward my arms could no longer bare the burden of my heart, my mind, and his words.

Regrettably —

I have no life vest.

I fell off and into what I thought was a puddle;

Except the more agony I felt, the more the water swallowed my body.

The most meaningful attribute to life, tasteful but bittersweet.

Every time a thought of you crosses, mini movies of recollections replay,

and the pain in my heart is replenished.

Lost in a sea of  crocodile tears, swollen eyes, a gorged nose, and a heartbroken by life.

Actualize a racing mind.

Time is drowning me in my own emo-ocean.

Much time is given, yet I feel like sailing out my mind.

Envision

Fishing with the thoughts of regrets, and Paragliding with reminiscence.

Through a Cold War, actions often kill, but

Love is stronger than death.

Despite love being uncontrollable, no matter how hard death tries it cannot intervene people in love.

Love is stronger than death, although it can’t stop death from happening, no matter how hard death tries it can’t separate people from love.

Therefore,

Death cannot take away memories either.

In the end, love is always stronger.

So you see —

A part of you has grown in me.

Allowing me to  cease the worries, raise up, and stand strong

It’s you and me together like time and eternity

and never afar,

maybe in distance,

but never by heart.

Goodnight I say,

Never a Goodbye.

–Leighrick

When Dreams Become Reality

Posted in Illumination, Manhood or Womanhood, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

When Dreams Become Reality

 

This evening…

I found my imagination in the back of my mind.

I’m feeling remorse;  I should have listened to my conscience.

My creativity was knocking on my temple.

Tylenol, shut it up…

Now my hearts paying for it.

I closed my eyes, covered my ears, and listened to my soul cry.

 

I traveled my  medulla oblongata.

I flinch. My dreams turned into nightmares.

I see my imagination lay wasted thin like water.

Fuck!

Paralyzed mind.

My conscience has become the new Cesar.

 

I look left and my creativity has overdosed on refer.

I look right at the nightmares beating my dreams.

I look behind me, and my conscience shaking.

I can no longer witness this.

I look ahead and my imagination is dead.

 

Insanity has sunk in.

 

This is absent Schizophrenia.

I don’t know who I am.

Because of this is Bipolarity;

I can’t choose a feeling!

 

Living poison.

My words are tainted.

My tongue is numb.

My heart is ignorant.

Have I gone blind?

 

Am I jeopardizing my own purity?!

 

Pen to my head.

Placing notebook paper down to surround myself.

I’m making my bed.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; I’m terrified by making a mess.

 

Leighrick is whispering in my ear,” Chaotic just go through with it“.

 

How did she know that about me?

Who told her my first name?

 

“I can’t do this anymore!”

I don’t know what I’m saying.

 

My history is spilling out my closet.

My conscience turned the lights on.

I look left and right forgetting I’m blind.

I stop and listen..

FUCK!

I hear myself dying!

 

Jumping out the bed; I vomit.

I feel around for my inspiration; turns out that’s what filled the sink!

I vomit again.

Except when I flushed the toilet, along with the rejection went my dreams.

 

I leave the red lit room.

Trying to feel my way back;

The walls disintegrate around me.

 

I collapse on my bed.

Place the pen in my hand.

If I’m already dying inside, who’ll appreciate  what’s left?

Beauty is within, but so is deception.

 

Chaotic is talking to me, “Don’t do it Leighrick“.

Leighrick is yelling at me, “Wait, I thought I was Candace?!”

Candace is screaming to both of them, “I’m going through with this. I don’t know who I am!!”

 

Leighrick says, “You’re Chaotic”

Chaotic says, “You’re Candace”

Candace says, “Shut the fuck up! Fuck! I’m losing it!!”

 

I lay upon my bed of paper.

With a red pillow behind my head.

I want to disguise the blood; for whomever may find me.

They won’t be freaked out when realizing I’m dead.

 

I put the pen to my head.

“Pop…”

Goes the trigger.

 

Ink consumes my body.

My soul is released.

 

The next morning there’s knockin’ on my door.

The knocks go unanswered…their whispers fade,

“shhh, we should just let her sleep.”

 

The poet lays at peace.

 

Just in case you didn’t notice, I committed homicide with the piece.

 

Next time you’ll know not to judge, but

Instead to stop to let the poet speak.

 

Sincerely,

That Chaotic, Leighrickal, Young Lady C.

 

When dreams become reality
When dreams become reality