Screams all around me,
There's chaos I cannot control.
Yet there's a subtle calm inside me,
Because I don't get into trouble.
I watch the flying words of hate and anger,
Curling its hands around the throat of its victim.
They don't know, you cant choke someone who doesn't breathe freely
Amidst the noise, my cry for help is still the loudest.
If only someone were to hear me.

Just wandering in my head
Amongst confusing emptiness
Complete isolation a
Kind loneliness that
Sings derisive laughter
Onto a burdened soul in
Need of placidity

Pieces of broken heart
Out of my control
Lost in my mind
Lacking gravity
Outside in
Consciously imploding silently
Knowing nothing certain

i wanted to write about
how my fingernails take off my skin at night
or how i leave bruises in places i hate

i still want to scream about how i don't use knives, anymore
and tell you all the lies that let me get away with my own
self destruction

all these scars that have explanations
i'm nearly exploding
and the words will surely splatter on the wall



but i don't want you to mistake a poem
for an instruction manual

Here I sit upon this cream white carpet
Salt streams down my face like a river, gently trickling over my freckled cheeks
Copper drips from my arm onto my hands, falling into the cracks of my palms
My eyes are burning but my skin is cold
My mind is racing but my heart is still
My posture weakens but I don’t let my head fall
Instead my gaze flickers to the ground
The floor a jarring hue
That lovely white carpet now streaked with crimson
What a mess I’ve made...

shifting between polar bears
man i’m ******* bipolar
i hate you i love you, hell knows
should i have let you walk?

we were a **** show
brutally perfect kind of picture
hung on my toilet bowl
looking at you
as i puke up the xan bars of last night's party
while you lit up ur blunt

sending u my nudes
while writing love letters
we’re having a rad time
until we a mess

corruption
******* the pain away in our basement
i'm hurting i'm screaming onto the highroad
pulled up my skirt on the curb like a side ***
pick me up pick me up again
car lights flashing

i’ll be your own girl
I’ll do you right doe
while you flying in from LA
crashing your cute face
******* wrecking it against the ground boy

Met his Match....

it seems Prez Grinch has met his match
most people agree he needs to dispatch
it won't be long before our man Joe steps in
and cleans up the mess that was not a win-win
I'm told, that in history, this story will reign
I'm hoping we learn from all the insane
let's learn to be forgiving and get back our pride
and try to all be, on at least the same side
I love this great country but hate where it's been
can we all just agree, at least try to begin?

Brian Hill - 2020 # 320