Noise

it’s interesting to notice

the difference in how things sound

the way words bounce off walls

the way they ring in your ears

I know the way addiction sounds

I’ve written line after line 

I’ve assembled strings of words

describing how it feels to be bound  

the sound can be almost deafening

and some days it all goes black

the edges sharp and jagged

scraping against the skin

in the rivulets of pain

that flow from open wounds

streaming sanguine rivers

that simply trickle away

silence screams louder

than any sound ever could

through pacing and internal combustion

and skin that doesn’t fit

I’ve run so far and so fast

to keep the sounds at bay

I’ve run so long that I’ve forgotten

what the voices need to say

yesterday the words

came in short and fast clips

broken sentences abbreviated

language, a foreign thing

tears fueled by anger

by frustration, pain, angst

and the orchestra of cacophony

sang a song I know so well

the overwhelming feeling

of being sick of myself

ran like a loop through my mind

for the entire length of the day

short reprieves in love

and the kindness of strangers, now friends

softened the edges just enough

so the clock continued to move

digging deep into the muck

to climb up out of the mire

begging into the vast unknown

that I see what I need to see

with eyes swollen and burning

with a heart bleeding out on the floor

my knees becoming calloused

from humbling myself here

I am fighting for my life, it seems

a war I cannot lose

with an urgency the battles rage

my will screams in pain

with every victory, white flags wave

in the quiet aftermath

and I revel in the awe of the silence

and how different the calm sounds

The Path

it’s not an easy thing to do

to simply sit in the silence

to let feelings of discomfort

hang on you like a veil

it’s challenging at best

to be quiet in those moments

and listen with an open heart

to any answer that comes

when the feelings start to surface

and the churning within begins

frantic, frenetic, kinetic

the fork in the road is here

down one path is the inevitable

journey into crazy

in patterns, fixations and habits

the road that has no end

obsessive, compulsive, addictive

actions that never resolve

the record continues to spin

but the song remains the same

the other path that awaits

is the road typically less taken

it’s bumpy with potholes and roadblocks

and hard to navigate

measured steps are required

patience and moving slow

open eyes and listening

to maneuver this terrain

it takes time to travel this path

it is not familiar ground

in trying to rush to the end

you will surely slip and fall

but I believe there is something

et the end of this winding road

something worth discovering

the proverbial row to hoe