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The tears fall,

Harder and faster,

My mind breaks,

Splits and fractures,

Torn in different ways,

How can I stay?

Im not wanted,

Useless and a burden,

Life seems meaningless,

Walked off the forest path,

Lost inside my own mind,

The cold,

Dark and forboding,

An icy chill with no wind,

Shattered sound in the distance,

The beast is coming,

Its knocking at my door,

Howling at the moon,

Eyes black with hate,

Pointy fangs grinning,

I want it to rip me apart,

Limb from limb,

Drink my body dry,

Savour the taste of my soul,

The destructive energy,

The unrelenting force,

Power,

Silver tongue gleaming,

A quick flick,

A red droplet escapes,

I feel the teeth sink in,

My flesh inviting this beast closer,

Deeper and deeper it bites,

Never looking away from my eyes,

It knows Im trapped,

Frozen to the spot,

My life ebbing slowly,

Each heartbeat a little fainter,

Drinking deep from my wrist,

The beast never misses another drop,

I can feel the tongue slicing,

My blood racing out,

The beast grins one last time,

It wants my soul,

A final meal,

Instead it leaves me there,

A pool of nothing,

Even my beast doesnt want me.

With this letter I say goodbye,

As the daylight fades to night,

Tears roll down my cheeks,

Pen trembles in my hand,

My lungs gasping for air,

The monsters under my bed,

The voices in my head,

Hypnotised by the shiny metal,

I feel numb and dead inside,

Totally zombified but without purpose,

Lies and lies that have been said,

Pumped full of chaos,

Traumatised by the outside,

For as long as I can remember,

I have wanted to die,

Feeding off my broken heart and mind,

Despair swirld round like smoke,

Emptiness becoming normal,

Fill my veins with formaldehyde,

The day has finally come,

The day my heart died.

Tied to what is just too far

Far gone too late to stay

Still life still lies underwater
And above it? What is left in the shadowy

Light, the light, O light could not hold on

Reeds sliver under a full moon
Choreographed by the hues of sunset

How could you not love the concentric
Ripples, that must, O God dissipate

Can you see they fulfilled their promise?
At least a broken man became their final witness, and in his rotten timber,

Grey Cat, they called him
By hell I don't know, no-one got passed the
Stutter.

But tonight, under the silver moon
He waits for the last of civil twilight
The last call of the Loons
Of course they'll be back.

But Ol Grey Cat, who holds his 12 Guage tight
Tight, tighter,

You know the say the sunrise out on the lake this morning was pastel beauty - And boy,

I'm sure glad Ol Grey Cat got to draw every last colour into his Soul.

(c) 2022 Nick Purdon. For Grey Cat. 1942 - 2003

These words I write cannot contain

The anger, the guilt, nor the pain

Of losing someone you hold most dear

You went to her house for advice

You just complained, yelled and got frustrated

But she just listened, hearing every word

And now she's gone, gone, gone

You think about her constantly

She never leaves your heart, mind, or soul

Her advice was always solid

Her words blunt and meaningful

But now you can't hear them

She is just gone, gone, gone

We move on, hoping to hear her call our name

But she can't anymore

We hope to feel her grasp

But she is out of reach

Just remember where she resides now

In the darkest part of your heart

Waiting for you to ask again

When you find the words

When you heal

She's not here

She's not there

But she is everywhere

She. Is. Home.

She. Is. Happy.

She. Is. Always. Watching.

Waiting

Hoping

Always loving was her speech

She told you how it was out of love

She was there when you were a baby

She was there your whole life

NOW HOLD HER CLOSE AS YOU SAY GOODBYE FOR THE LAST TIME!!

YOU'LL NEVER SEE HER AGAIN!!

THE PHOTOS DO HER NO JUSTICE!!

DON'T SHED TEARS FOR HER!!!

REMEMBER HER!!

The death of a loved one

Is an unending sadness

But never give up

They will watch you

Help you

Save you

Never give up!

It Gets Better

January 27, 2021

Several years have passed, but it feels like only days.

Everything in my life is foggy, nothing has changed

since I was younger and had more time to write.

I've grown into an adult, but nothing is all right.

I've hoped for so long that I could find a place

where I can be myself and not have to chase

validation and acceptance for the thoughts in my mind.

I've searched, I have, but there is nothing in sight.

I have love all around me, with my family and friends.

They assure me I'm safe, they'll be there 'til the end.

I don't doubt that, but they seem to misunderstand

that these problems I have are out of my hands.

It's three in the morning, I'm working at eight.

If I go to sleep now, I'll still probably be late.

I'll get through the day, pay the bills, go to bed,

just to have this cycle repeat itself again.

When the night gets darker and my mind is awake,

there is nothing I can do but hope I don't think

about the forks in the road- which one I'll take.

I could visit the skies above or pretend I'm ok.

The medications, the drugs, and the alcohol

have never helped me feel better at all.

The only thing that's stopped me from leaving forever

is telling myself at night, "I promise, it gets better."

It helps for a moment, but soon my mind persists

that it isn't true- it doesn't get better than this.

I have tried to change all the errors of my ways,

but to no avail. This may be the last of my days.

To everyone who loved me, to everyone that cared,

I don't want you to think that any of you shared

a part in this self-destructive game of my life.

In the end, everything will be all right.

Nothing will change in the world outside my own.

Everyone else will have a place they call home.

My only hope is that by relieving my pressure,

maybe for the others, it actually does get better.

I don't know what to write

or what to say or what to feel.

I want help but I'm too afraid

to show anyone what is real with me.

I can't seem to bring myself to terms

with my thoughts of a different future.

I can't change what I am

but if I could, I don't know that I would.

I won't let you go, but it's what holding me back

I won't face what I have, it's control I don't have.

I won't stand up to her and say I don't need you

because you're the worst drug I've ever had.

Let me start over, I swear I'll do better.

Let me have some faith in myself, I might

sleep a night without the toxic thoughts.

Let me feel like I've done something right.

Only the drugs and the alcohol make me

forget where I am, make me forget that I need

them to float above the sea, stop from sinking and

remembering everything and start thinking

about the failure that has given up.

She had pine

needles in her purse to take the edge off

Christmas. She held them for the memories

she didn’t own, but could pluck out of movies

like pine cones out of the snow to make ornaments —

decorated with bits of glitter, a bow

to represent a touch of hope. I would pull her close

and tell her she didn’t need the needles to feel something

as tangible as the snow on the ground. Fleeting

cold was meant to leave us

for the warmth of memories we could make on our own.

There’s a certain appeal to the bruise colored haze at the bottom
of a six-pack. She sits
on the kitchen floor, knees bent
out at acute angles, shuddering shoulder
blades pressing against skin
until the fine human film splits
and she falls – splits down the center

like the bottom of the Colorado mountain valleys we hiked last spring.

The skin of her cheeks would flush in the brisk mornings and I, alone,
learned every shade of tension stretched through her shoulders
when she’d bend
over to wash her hair in the stream.
Like the willow tree bends: graceful

limbs reaching to touch a quivering reflection.

When, 'I'm fine'

becomes your generic answer,

because you know well,

they don't really care about the truth.

When tears just randomly fall,

in a silent, steady succession

and you never knew

...you were even crying.

When you actually,

physically ache inside,

from being so bereft

of even simple human touch.

When the only times

your cries are even heard

by anyone who'd care,

is within' your own head.

When you just want to run-

just start running,

but knowing full well,

you've nowhere, and no one, to run.

When your own traitorous voice

calls out inside you, screaming:

'Outcast! Unlovable! Unworthy!

Why don't you fight back!?

What's wrong with you!???'

And you simply whisper back, 'I'm fine.'