The Fool

 

What a fool I have been,

Playing victim to the torment in my head.

What a tool I have been,

Sharpening the edges of my own damning blade.

What sorrow I have felt,

When I am the maker of my own salty tears.

Today this ends.

What a seed I now am,

Burying myself deep in rich soil

Soon to rise again.

-N.B.

 

Photo by Gabriel Jimenez on Unsplash

 

Insecurity

 

timothy-eberly-2MSMhiycQuY-unsplashPhoto by Timothy Eberly on Unsplash

 

The sword was already there,

Of this, I made sure.

Primed and ready for the taking,

the stabbing,

the pain,

the end.

I am a cocooned butterfly,

And I will emerge once again.

…..

Not today, I tell her.

Today you can not have me.

Today you can not ravage me,

Like a glutton for my bones –

I shall deny you in hushed tones -no

– a single whispered line,

“Leave me be, insecurity.

Today you will not have me.

Today I am mine.”

-N.B.

 

Nevermore

Ensconce me in your warmth,

And wrap my skin in sweet joy.

Bite deep, like a leech-

Sucking away until every last drop-

Of loneliness excretes- from this desperate soul,

Before I sink too low.

Days of isolation sting sharp,

Like a fresh cut.

Raw, oozing blood,

Pooling at the seams of these poorly sewn stitches.

For which I am to blame-

For I am the seamstress,

Sewing tight my own demise.

And I am the surgeon-

Cutting out my hollowed eyes.

For they have done me a disservice,

And I no longer see the light.

Nevermore have I needed hope.

Nevermore have I needed sight.

-N.B.

Photo by: Kristina Tripkovic on Unsplash

A Small Reprieve

Peace sweeps through the alter,

On one stormy eve.

But, pray tell, what reprieve –

Could bless such scorched earth, that I do walk?

As I do sing, the winds to sleep.

Once I failed,

Twice I caved.

And now, what new sins doth do creep?

Quieten my jaded voice,

And drench my skin in salty fears.

For now, I see no path for which I am meant to walk.

For now, I see no action, for which I am meant to fake.

Only for now, I say I am done.

A small reprieve, for this liar’s sake.

-N.B.

(featured image taken on a clear day before the storm)

Sail Past

 

johannes-plenio-DKix6Un55mw-unsplashPhoto by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

 

But what forsaken thoughts,

Interrupt my thoughtless day?

For now, I choose distraction,

And guide my mind away.

Should time catch up with this quiet mouse,

And regret’s trap,

snap-

these fragile limbs,

I will be but a pawn,

To a faultless king’s whim.

Perhaps, in a stretch of time,

My bones will tell a tale,

Of a forgotten distant, past,

When a new beginning sets it’s sail. 

-N.B.

Life Boat

Cracking through the sunlight

Of criticism’s dawn.

But wait, turn your light on-

Through the dim mist of that mind

Tiresome, sore, war-torn,

Perspective

You throw around like careless pennies,

Into the water but they don’t sink-

They drown,

Like me, but I’m still holding my breath,

For what’s left-

Hungry eyes peering up through murky depths.

A life boat couldn’t come sooner.

-N.B.