THE MEEK ARE STILL HERE

A man's pride shall bring him low: but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit. Proverbs 29:23


BLOODLESS

I’m tilting my head back as I 

place my burdens behind me  

I can’t hold it forever, the bowl of my mind

overflows but water pours in thunderously 

because there’s a worry anew 

a memory unearthed from the soil of memory 

haunting and harrowing from midnight and beyond noon. 

How much pain can a human take 

for the cracks to manifest and bring heartache?

I might as well walk with a noose around my neck.

Because you do a bad thing

and the world is unforgiving 

because nothing good stays forever

temporary is their charity, eternal their anger.

If you slice me, you know, I know I will bleed 

blood doesn’t choose to stay in the body 

and I wait for the day of my release 

from my skin, from this prison cell life 

getting up day and night, taking the train

is not far from being in hell  

and you need to take a pill of ignorance 

to pretend like it’s worth being here. 

Let me say it, because you kill me when you 

tell me keep it in, 

it’s my worldview. 

So what if bullets and blades can destroy? 

Depression is like that horse in Troy 

once it’s in us, it plays games of havoc

but slowly, like a ten year conflict. 

I know depression better than ever 

it’s a parasite 

and its cuts you off from paradise. 

Don’t pretend like you have love to give 

you’re the same people who laughed when I tried to live 

when I shed my stories in vulnerability 

but you laughed at my misery 

and your chuckles meant I didn’t deserve to be heard 

because I lacked beauty and brains, the right words

that would make you stop and listen

but it’s too late, I’m changed and I won’t be in perdition.

My heart went cold

because of abuse and your mentality.

Get used to it, this is the world. 

Sad truth about the mortal coil

but numbness makes it hard to cry

hard to be human, I want to die. 

I wish I could but my soul is barren

my womb too, I weep alone and slit

and dies the flow of the poet who knows it.

themeekarestillhere

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