Soldiers of the Night

Ugly demons patiently waiting,
Singing an eerie tune all day:
"It's time to come out, it's time to play,
as soon as the sun sets,
we'll be on our way."

In the innocence of the night,
anguish lurks beside misery.
Calamity plots it's wrath,
and affliction plants it's seed.

The slumbering lie in undisturbed stillness,
ignorant to thirsty foe,
ready to consume their vulnerability.

Behind fragile eyelids,
unsuspecting, they dream.
A most perfect prey,
to merciless predators unforeseen.

Graciously asleep, each breath a whisper.
If only they knew, just how lucky they were.
Overcome by jealousy,
are the insomnious slaves of the night.

Insomnia chooses its subjects carefully,
bestowing upon them a duty
to obtain balance and
maintain a strict delicacy.

There is a battle to be fought,
in the shadows before dusk.
For we are the soldiers of the the night,
condemned to reap the wrath of it's creatures.

Yet, this martyrdom is not of choice,
but is in fact rather unwilling.
Without consent or trial, we are sentenced
to face the evils of twilight.

Courage is not instilled by a forceful hand,
but instead willfully decided.
Such force ineffectual-
no battle can be won
with an army unwilling to fight.

And so the battle our ancestors lost and
a battle we do not wish to revive.
For we stand not a chance
against well adapted monsters that thrive.

Soldiers no more,
only mere witnesses.
Helpless bystanders hostage to the darkness,
ambiguous to our confinement,
pleading for a good sleeps graces.

An Addiction I Can't Afford

You see, our relationship is a broken record,
though no matter how many times I hear it play,
I can't seem to stop listening.

The rhythm is mesmerizing.
The motions habitual.
A melody so soothing,
A song we've grown comfortable.

It's an alluring electricity in our veins,
that makes it impossible to stay away.
For these consuming sensations,
supersede every imperial affliction.

This love,
is an addiction.

I am finally realizing the effects
of these memories we hold onto.
Stuck in a state of nostalgia,
the past times will haunt you.

In hindsight I now see,
I can no longer afford
to let this love reside inside me.

It's time I accepted
sometimes to love you have to let go.
For our love, is a love, we can no longer know.

-s.d

Home

An old poem, from an old notebook, written on an older date.

Home...
"Is where the heart is" they say
But who are "they" to state
Where it is that my heart remains?
I'm just taking things day by day
For my hearts gone astray.
I left it in New Jersey
Or was is Florida, Georgia or Maine?
I've lived in so many different places
That I lost it along the way.
The word doesn't even register
To a brain, this brain, my brain in disarray.

Home.
At the end of a long hard day
Awaits a house, a bed,
And roof over your head.
It's more than just a place to stay
It's a feeling, a warmth, a comforting though
In knowing you have a place to go
At the end of the day.

Home?
It's a word I've never known.
From tents to trailers
To rooms full of night terrors
No food for days as these hunger pains grow
I looked up at the world saying
Damn this place blows.

Home.
Four letters
One word, one Syllable.
But a meaning incomparable
Incomprehensible
To the girl that never knew a home
Not now, not before.

-s.d

Unfinished Just Like Me

I'm trying so hard to be strong
Do this thing on my own
But everything feels so wrong.

I wish I could've known
Just how bad things would end
Oh the ruins that would be left
Among a weak heart to mend.

It's tiring having to pick up the peices
Aware they'll soon be dismantled again.
Indulging in a task that only unleashes
My most inner demons from the bottomless pit
In which they've been.

Sometimes I wonder
Why I even bother
Picking up the debri
When it would appear that's all that's left of me.

-s.d

She's Done Dancing

Sometimes silence is one’s loudest scream,

Tears rolling down soft cheeks,
Leaving behind a limp heart you see.

But you don’t see, you couldn’t,
For she hides the pain and shields the world from seeing
The brokenness of her very being.

She’s trying so hard to hold herself together,
Upon weak knees pleading for days that are better,
Still chasing happiness that seems to last never.

So on drags the day, the weight she carries grows heavier,
The pain manifesting into something larger
And her tolerance deteriorating into one much smaller.

She’s dying inside, the defeat is metastasizing.
She’s crumbling, falling apart and now she is crawling.
The maniacal memories are consuming
The coherent thought she once possessed and
All that’s left is a shell of what she used to be.

For her vibrancy has been replaced with insanity,
Simplicity taken over by atrocious complexity.
Never ending anxiety that has no remedy,
She’s done dancing to an excruciating melody.

-s.d