Do you ever feel so broken?

You haven’t a clue what it is
that’s left you feeling so hopeless

Lying awake at night
In the dark
Staring at the ceiling

Wondering why?

And I-
shed my skin
Layer by layer
by layer

Peeling away all of the dead
Scabbed and scarred bits

The shell of what was
No longer lives within the
lining of my skin

The bare and bitter truth-
Of what once was, or what could
have been

I’m naked
I have nothing left to offer
or give

And I rid myself of my many
masks
Disregarded the ceramic,
stone, paper and concrete
Dishevelment of my past

And so, I threw them away
Never to be thought of
or seen again

In the trash they'll stay

Forever will I proudly wear
the true essence
Of my inner and outer being

Simply me
© 2014 Christina Jackson

A panic realized
a shivering chill
racing up my soul
feeling the emptiness

Awake in the dark
as I walk among the dead

Chaos surrounds me
as my thoughts drip
into a graveyard of liquid
metal and bones

I don't want to write about the cold, the wind,
The rain or these January doldrums.
England at this time of year is desperate and depressing,
And I'm longing for warm breezes, nighttime teases
A pregnant, chuckling moon at midnight. August dances,
Wild advances, stolen, secret, hungry glances.
Magic, confusion, summer scents
BBQ, Samsara, Bacardi and Cava,
And the kind of flowers that try to impregnate you with their scent;
Smell me! they plead,  then kiss as I burst, spilling my pollen,
Blessing the union of your hungry, eager mouths.
January is barren but August is ripe, heady, ready,
Moist and pulsing, life is in the air,
Flee the doldrums, take me there.

pen to page unlocks
heartache and rage
spilling ugly truth
lofty eyes turn away
claiming blindness
whispers empty chatter
tattoos crazy, outcast
the heart does shatter
standing cold, outside
looking in with desire
longing to belong
never finding place
time to get away
escaping to shadows
solace found in alone
fitting broken better
paper shreds falling
torn words scatter
needing retreat
tossing out the key