an iny_tRo_ duction

an iny_tRo_ duction.

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Sadness grabbed there first.

Sadness grabbed there first

before I know what she was.

Sadness grabbed my heart She left

a white marked

trail

along the paths of veins and arteries.

ghostly fingers imprinted her mark

of fine woven sandy fingerprints

of the shadow of

an invisible sadness.

Sadness was a secret sister to me

she held me silently

even on all the days

I wept both crazy and madly.

Sadness she was with me

through everything

almost at all.

She cast a sudden sharp shadow

upon my happiest moments and

memories-She colored the most beautiful of days

into grayness colored ashes

the cremation of happiness

into an ugly urn

only I could see, while because Sadness

She touched me first there.

She grabbed my small heart

and left a lingering loneliness,

She left a longing for

teardrops unspent

a lingering romance

with her own tormentor and invention

a man in a blacken smog suit

some call

by the name

Depression.

 

 

Not enough

Not enough-

Dec 26th, 2014

Friday Afternoon 2:49 EST

Not enough

Never enough

Not enough

sleep.

Not enough,

to eat.

Not enough,

to touch the sky & kidnap the Sun.

Not enough, to learn how to fly,

just enough to become

untied

undone.

Not enough to reach outwards and find it.

Not enough to reach out, and grab the happy

right off someone else’s face,

because my happy

its become erased

misplaced

lost confusion.

It’s just not enough,

to fix up this place.

It’s not enough to straighten

this room, to clean between the cracks, to sweep

a broom across this dusty room

deep inside my minds eye.

Not enough,

to touch the sky & kidnap the Sun.

Not enough, to learn how to fly,

just enough to become

untied

undone.

It’s not enough to

try to run, to sprint, to finish

the race.

I’m fresh out of lungs

the air is too sharp, cold and dry-

It’s not enough,

to just sit here

waiting for you

to get home.

It’s not enough, to be a failure as a housewife,

to be a successful lunatic

with a Masters Degree

and no job prospects.

It’s not enough

to be a crazy person,

living on SSDI, it’s not enough, to always

live in someone else’s shadow

it’s not enough

to be the ghost

you can come home

and answer too.

Don’t you understand?

My wings may have melted, because I flew

too closely to the Sun

but I have dreams too.

I do not long to be

someone else’s

no one.

Sad Song to an Old Dog…

Sad song

to an old dog…

You are getting older

slower, sleeping more, you seem

to be hiding from us more often.

i wish you could speak with words

instead of flowing furry feelings,

such sad eyes.

Are you old friend in pain?

Will we know when that time comes?

Will we know when saying goodbye to you,

is the most necessary and humane thing to do?

How will I be able to tell?

When you do not walk so well?

When you stop eating or drinking?

When you stop dreaming?

Will we know when the time comes to put you down?

Will we know when it is best for you, to visit, that fabled “Rainbow Bridge.”??

How do we know when it is best for us to let you go?

A sad sad song for an old mighty dog.

I cannot help but selfish wish,this choice comes later, rather than sooner.

We still love you so very much.

Your a part of Us.

You still eat your treats, wag your tail, jump up to greet us,

still long to play or have a pet between your ears.

So afraid to let go of you before your time.

We never want to hurt you-or desert you.

I hope that day comes later rather than sooner.

I am still not ready for that final goodbye. 

You still have that twinkle in your eye. That smile upon your lips.

A good friend, the best kind.

oh, gosh how will we ever know, when that time comes

to say one last goodbye?

IMG_0225

Sweat

Sweat-

9/27/14

Breaking out

into a rash,

of ugly words

broken down metaphors

and crashed out cars

of forgotten highways

I long to pass.

 

Breaking out,

in a sweat

of random rhyme

poetry without boundaries

rhythms without meter

sadness without time.

 

and I

shiver

coldness creeps in

with the turning

flip,flip,flip

of the Fan’s silver blades

crushing the air

 

making time

stand still.

 

A writer without ideas

is like an empty blanket

encircling empty dreams.

 

Breaking out,

in a rash

Breaking out,

in  a sweat,

Breaking out

into….

 

silence

unspoken slices

of imagery

best left forgotten,

left out in the cold

forgotten from a

dream.

there is no one else.

CAM00836 There is no one else. 08/05/14

deep inside

a divided mind

a shovel lies

buried

among dirt and ash.

In the fragments of

lingering hurt.

 

deep inside

a divided mind

covered by dirty leaves

and cobweb secrets-

(which belong only to me,)

 

deep inside

i feel split

into two…

 

the logical side

and the creative muse,

garnished together

within a battered white,

picket fence.

 

haunted,

i linger…

searching for ghosts.

 

but there is no one else.

Not my circus, not my monkeys…

An old proverb
has been circling the
cybersphere lately…
Not my circus, not my monkeys.

I ponder its meaning.
As I re-examine
lost souls in my life.

sometimes the drama
is much too great
much too overwhelming
to engage in.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.
As I imagine cotton candy
high wire acts, a circus of
clowns.

Sometimes you can care
for a person quite
a lot but you do not
wish to go down the dark
hole of a tunnel
within them.

You try to lend
a helping hand
to lead them out of their darkness.

but as you try to grasp
for them their hand
just disappears and vanishes
into deep depression.

and its like a tornado
has a hold of them
and they are trying to
pull you down with their ship
like someone who is
only interested
in drowning.

and then you whisper
shellshocked,
not my circus.
not my monkeys.

a sinking feeling

a sinking feeling by Emily Sturgill 6/24/14

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
and your leaving for work
as you kiss me goodbye

all I see on your face
is anger and hurt.

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
your disappointed in me
once more again

somehow, some way I
have let you down again.
and there is no time
for words or apologies.

a sinking feeling,
as the ship goes down,
I can see with one look
your angry with me

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
I do not even have or own
the magical words

of saying I’m sorry,
because you do not share
whatever wrong I’ve done.
this day is off to a rocky start.

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
with one angry look
you cracked my heart.

split it halfways
like two sides
of a cracked raw
egg yolk.

a sinking feeling,
as the ship goes down,
as I sit here in a precursor to all my tears,
I know you’d throw me overboard in a second

hoping that this time
I would splash, sink, sputter
and finally
drown.

as the ship goes down.

The beating of a broken brain.

Snapshot_20140322

The beating of a broken brain
as the world spins
She tilts at an angle on her axis,
rotations
and as the world begins to whirl, roll, and spin,

Onwards, ever onwards
her broken brain it beats from within.
It’s like the crashing classical music
from a drum.

This beating, bloated, breaking
ripping apart like thread from seams
Her broken beating bleeding brain
bruised
by too many

ideas all at once.
too many moments of
wondering lust.

too much delusion
or thought pollution.

She just cannot think straight
and
her words

begin to dissipate
into the swirling storm of
other brokenness-
over the Rage

at useless
misspellings
and forgotten phrases

at her inability
to create something
random & pure

a whisper
a roar
a lion

which purrs.

Her beating bruised and bleeding
useless and insane
poetic yet dumbfounded
lost lonely yet lovely

excuse of a brain.

The Anchor

The Anchor-4/11/14

If feelings were anchors
around my feet and legs
would I sink or swim?

If feelings were anchors
around my feet
would I rock steady in a harbor
or sea?

Or would all my feelings
become shark-like
and swim up
to devour me?

I struggle to remain upright
despite crashing waves.
Motionless I float upon my back
watching
the blue blue blue
of the sea
as
it meets the sky.

And I wonder who is bluer
the sea, the sky or I?