Collateral Damage – Know when to let go of that hell bent soul

“She doesn’t know what she is doing
Only acting on what was taught her
Behaving irrationally and using
Destroying those who loved her

She goes on with her life
Only causing pain
There is always strife
Collateral damage, no gain.” – DMW



Hurting people, hurt people. It is no surprise, when you chase a hell bent soul to the edge, that your drawn down after them. Stand strong on your ground and know when to let go. Some people cannot be rescued. They must live out their destiny, which they have chosen, and you must let go. Beware then of collateral damage, for their life is like an exploding bomb and you can be hurt without seeing the wound. Collateral damage, the best defense is to not be there.

“We met one day after I was diagnosed

But I didn’t tell you.

You liked Wes Anderson

So did I

You listened to Bright Eyes

I did too

And one day, you told me

That you liked me

But I didn’t

So I kissed you instead

And told you about

How I liked to be on top

And how I wanted you

To be rougher

And I didn’t want you

To say my name and ruin the mood

All the things that seem personal

But really aren’t

But you said it

You said

That you loved me

But I didn’t

And this time

You wanted more than a kiss

So I went and kissed your father instead
Right in front of you

I wanted you to remember me like that

You didn’t talk to me for weeks

And then you showed up on my doorstep

Happily drunk on misery

And you said I destroyed you

And you said

I destroyed you

I said, Oh Honey

I didn’t destroy you, I destroyed me, you were just

Collateral Damage”lickallbrook

Published in: Broowaha
111611

Collateral Damage – Know when to let go of that hell bent soul

“She doesn’t know what she is doing
Only acting on what was taught her
Behaving irrationally and using
Destroying those who loved her

She goes on with her life
Only causing pain
There is always strife
Collateral damage, no gain.” – DMW



Hurting people, hurt people. It is no surprise, when you chase a hell bent soul to the edge, that your drawn down after them. Stand strong on your ground and know when to let go. Some people cannot be rescued. They must live out their destiny, which they have chosen, and you must let go. Beware then of collateral damage, for their life is like an exploding bomb and you can be hurt without seeing the wound. Collateral damage, the best defense is to not be there.

“We met one day after I was diagnosed

But I didn’t tell you.

You liked Wes Anderson

So did I

You listened to Bright Eyes

I did too

And one day, you told me

That you liked me

But I didn’t

So I kissed you instead

And told you about

How I liked to be on top

And how I wanted you

To be rougher

And I didn’t want you

To say my name and ruin the mood

All the things that seem personal

But really aren’t

But you said it

You said

That you loved me

But I didn’t

And this time

You wanted more than a kiss

So I went and kissed your father instead
Right in front of you

I wanted you to remember me like that

You didn’t talk to me for weeks

And then you showed up on my doorstep

Happily drunk on misery

And you said I destroyed you

And you said

I destroyed you

I said, Oh Honey

I didn’t destroy you, I destroyed me, you were just

Collateral Damage”lickallbrook

Published in: Broowaha
111611

Russian Roulette – Inside the mind of one pushed to far

 I slid bullets into the chamber, spinning the cylinder, my world balancing on a razor’s edge, looking down the barrel of the gun.

That was how it ended up, but the beginning was only moments before…

a-sinister-kidd

The cabinet was open. I fancied the .38, it’s slight sheen producing a dull rainbow of metallic colors. I loaded it with hollow points, short and thick, like me. Looking curiously at the soft lead, its deep hole a receptacle for my soul, I held it up to my temple. Looking, without seeing, in the glass of the gun cabinet, my reflection taunted me, but I felt nothing, ignoring the repeating insults. Not satisfied, I put the cold barrel in my mouth, tasting the metal and bitter gunpowder residue. I cocked the hammer back, almost slipping, figures I would shoot myself before I was ready, just like the rest of my life, fumbling and awkward. My heart hurt, my chest was heavy, depression, lost love, rejection, a lifetime of bullshit. I always ended up a loner, never popular or following a crowd, no entourage to accompany me through my days. I’ve shared my experiences with many lovers, counselors, friends, acquaintances, and drinking partners. Many stared in disbelief, claiming I was full of shit, no one could have all that happen to them, so many horrific events…I would gather my brokenness together, and stuff it back inside. No matter how I tried, no one would believe me. No one believed the rapes, the molestations, the beatings, the humiliations, the rejections, the tortures, the fear, the disconnected feeling of having no family, a stranger everywhere, the loneliness. Loneliness and fear, they followed me everywhere, and now I sat next to them, with this instrument of death, toying with my life. I held it for a long time, feeling the coolness of the barrel, playing with the trigger, testing the pressure needed, which, being modified, was barely a touch, a hair-trigger. I felt the texture of the pistol’s grip and holding it up backwards, stared down the black hole to infinity. Intriguing, I can leave this place in a second. I can end all the pain, the despair, so easily. This wasn’t the first time, oh no, I did this before, this time though, I felt tears lubricating my will decreasing my resistance, from attempt to success. My stomach felt, hollow, a deep hunger gnawing at me, a hunger for someone to care enough to reach out, but how could they? No one knew. When I did tell them, they wouldn’t believe be, laughing at times, staring in disbelief. I admired the gun, it offered no ridicule, only relief. I loaded it again, emptying the chambers, reloading, emptying, reloading. I had control over nothing in my life, being forced, with no mercy, to do the will of others, who had no remorse or compassion at what they did to me, to my mind. I was beautiful, my mind whole and brilliant. Now, my mind suffered violence. Daily, the visions rushed in to terrify me, thoughts racing down black paths of paranoia, self loathing, violence, and lust. The pistol gave me power, I could change the course of my life, not only mine, but I could execute revenge on those, my tormentors, my mockers, the laughing crowd that refused to respect me, or at least respect the fact that I could end their lives in a hot quick second. Would they poke a bear in the eye? No, they respected that the bear would tear them to shreds. They would respect an animal, but not me. That’s really funny to me. I smiled many times, through my shame, back at them. My mind hadn’t lost its brilliance, it just was transformed from lightness to darkness, creating a monster. I dreamed of how I would torture them, tease them, watch them puff up with pride thinking that their size, their alliances, their mind, would grant them advantage and victory at every turn. I smiled at them, through my tears, their life in my hands. I thought how easy it would be to make a name for myself, to ravage the bullies and tear their life apart they way they did mine….so easy, so easy. But for now, I pulled the trigger on me.



Also published in Broowaha 
12142011

Russian Roulette – Inside the mind of one pushed to far

 I slid bullets into the chamber, spinning the cylinder, my world balancing on a razor’s edge, looking down the barrel of the gun.

That was how it ended up, but the beginning was only moments before…

a-sinister-kidd

The cabinet was open. I fancied the .38, it’s slight sheen producing a dull rainbow of metallic colors. I loaded it with hollow points, short and thick, like me. Looking curiously at the soft lead, its deep hole a receptacle for my soul, I held it up to my temple. Looking, without seeing, in the glass of the gun cabinet, my reflection taunted me, but I felt nothing, ignoring the repeating insults. Not satisfied, I put the cold barrel in my mouth, tasting the metal and bitter gunpowder residue. I cocked the hammer back, almost slipping, figures I would shoot myself before I was ready, just like the rest of my life, fumbling and awkward. My heart hurt, my chest was heavy, depression, lost love, rejection, a lifetime of bullshit. I always ended up a loner, never popular or following a crowd, no entourage to accompany me through my days. I’ve shared my experiences with many lovers, counselors, friends, acquaintances, and drinking partners. Many stared in disbelief, claiming I was full of shit, no one could have all that happen to them, so many horrific events…I would gather my brokenness together, and stuff it back inside. No matter how I tried, no one would believe me. No one believed the rapes, the molestations, the beatings, the humiliations, the rejections, the tortures, the fear, the disconnected feeling of having no family, a stranger everywhere, the loneliness. Loneliness and fear, they followed me everywhere, and now I sat next to them, with this instrument of death, toying with my life. I held it for a long time, feeling the coolness of the barrel, playing with the trigger, testing the pressure needed, which, being modified, was barely a touch, a hair-trigger. I felt the texture of the pistol’s grip and holding it up backwards, stared down the black hole to infinity. Intriguing, I can leave this place in a second. I can end all the pain, the despair, so easily. This wasn’t the first time, oh no, I did this before, this time though, I felt tears lubricating my will decreasing my resistance, from attempt to success. My stomach felt, hollow, a deep hunger gnawing at me, a hunger for someone to care enough to reach out, but how could they? No one knew. When I did tell them, they wouldn’t believe be, laughing at times, staring in disbelief. I admired the gun, it offered no ridicule, only relief. I loaded it again, emptying the chambers, reloading, emptying, reloading. I had control over nothing in my life, being forced, with no mercy, to do the will of others, who had no remorse or compassion at what they did to me, to my mind. I was beautiful, my mind whole and brilliant. Now, my mind suffered violence. Daily, the visions rushed in to terrify me, thoughts racing down black paths of paranoia, self loathing, violence, and lust. The pistol gave me power, I could change the course of my life, not only mine, but I could execute revenge on those, my tormentors, my mockers, the laughing crowd that refused to respect me, or at least respect the fact that I could end their lives in a hot quick second. Would they poke a bear in the eye? No, they respected that the bear would tear them to shreds. They would respect an animal, but not me. That’s really funny to me. I smiled many times, through my shame, back at them. My mind hadn’t lost its brilliance, it just was transformed from lightness to darkness, creating a monster. I dreamed of how I would torture them, tease them, watch them puff up with pride thinking that their size, their alliances, their mind, would grant them advantage and victory at every turn. I smiled at them, through my tears, their life in my hands. I thought how easy it would be to make a name for myself, to ravage the bullies and tear their life apart they way they did mine….so easy, so easy. But for now, I pulled the trigger on me.



Also published in Broowaha 
12142011

The Way – Nightmares from childhood

“Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n.” – John Milton, Paradise Lost
 
DMW Sager

Stop! But they wouldn’t.

Let go! But they didn’t.
No! But they said, “Yes we will“.
Help! But they are deaf.
Go Away! But they lingered on.

And so went the nightmare called childhood till the day he found the Way. With strength not his own, wisdom above him, and boldness, the Way erased his fears.

Stop! They jumped back in amazement.
Let go! They released and ran.
No! They stood with shocked mouths open.
Help! His God answered with strong support.
Go away! They never could come back again.

Sweet victory when fear dies
                                                      

11042011

The Way – Nightmares from childhood

“Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n.” – John Milton, Paradise Lost
 
DMW Sager

Stop! But they wouldn’t.

Let go! But they didn’t.
No! But they said, “Yes we will“.
Help! But they are deaf.
Go Away! But they lingered on.

And so went the nightmare called childhood till the day he found the Way. With strength not his own, wisdom above him, and boldness, the Way erased his fears.

Stop! They jumped back in amazement.
Let go! They released and ran.
No! They stood with shocked mouths open.
Help! His God answered with strong support.
Go away! They never could come back again.

Sweet victory when fear dies
                                                      

11042011

Angel, Part 7 – Razor’s Edge

fanpop
Angry tears dried quickly on the long ride to the county jail. My wrists swelled as I squirmed in pain on the hard plastic seat of the sheriff’s car. Begging for him to loosen the cuffs, it was a cry that went unheeded, there was no way he was giving me slack. Laying on cold cement floors of the jail added now to my list of exciting experiences while with my angel; the excitement part of the lure for this lonely old man to pursue this young angel. They released me on my O.R., a term I had previously no knowledge of…my “own recognizance”. What was happening to me? I never acted like this. The rack and chains of jealousy are powerful catalysts to change a humble man into a creature of demonic rage. How close are love and hate? I fondled that razor edge, looking over into that dark chasm shadowed with the darkness of rage.

I managed to get back home, cold, miserable and confused. She was there, sleeping. A bottle of tequila lay empty on the floor, some pills scattered on the table. I woke her with a kiss. Evidently the owner’s decided against playing in this particular fire. Gently I pulled her blond hair to the side. Sleeping like this, I could still see some lingering touches of innocence. Her face, so gentle and pure again, like the angel I first met. She stirred, and seeing me, a reassuring smile spread from her face over her body, responding to me, reaching out and pulling me into bed. She felt so good, her body relaxed from the alcohol and pills, she pulled at my belt clumsily, I in a heated rush ripped the tired jeans from my body. 

We rolled around for hours in ecstasy. I fell asleep exhausted from the release of emotion and sex. She fell asleep, content that she still had the reigns, the prey had not left, he was just a little exhausted. The predators will chase and wait till you have lost your will before they pounce. She knew all she had to do was let me fight myself, she would clean up the mess after that. Fighting myself. Little did I know or understand that this whole game was of my making. I could have ended it at any time. Onward I went, my character eroding, my ambitions evaporating, and my soul, slowly withering under my assault.


Angel, Part 2 – A Night With Angel

photo . net

The rest of the night blurred by, like so many nights do, when you don’t have the courage to look for a tomorrow. I stumbled home and with her image caught in the narrow grooves of my mind, fell asleep, dreaming of angels. Opening my eyes in drunken squints, “Can someone turn off that damn light?” I laughed, of course not, it was the sun greeting me to a new day. I showered off the smell, but the after effects of the night hung on until afternoon. By then, my mind was way ahead of the day, thinking that tonight I will run into my angel again. She left enough of me wanting her again, to keep my attention. The wolf will let you walk as far away from your den as she can, before she let’s you see her. Wandering after this vision, the evening soon came and I found myself in my usual position at the watering trough of the dive. I stood at the door to look at what the evening would bring in on its air, and, to see my angel, if by chance she would be there. Just as I about gave up and walked in after some other enticement, I heard my name. Now no one calls me by my name, hell, no one knows me, and for that matter no one cared too. It was no surprise this startled me, that, there she was, a big smile on her face, hugging me like I was the last person on earth. How is it that she can like me? How can she even remember me? A thousand questions come at me, I knew I had nothing left to offer anyone at this point in my life. I left those questions alone, like my instinct and self preservation, left alone, defenseless of my own accord. The time quickly passed as slow dance after tempting slow dance, fast dance after erotic, down to the floor, fast dance, rolled through the night. Oh yes, time passed quickly, as she swallowed me into her world. She took me by the hand, “It’s gonna be OK, let me introduce you to what your wife never would. Come follow me.” So I did, seduced not only by pleasure, but by the fact that this young woman would be so taken by me that she would pursue me. The prey should not be so enthralled with this attention, but then again, what prey knows they are just that, until, it is too late.

Also published in: Broowaha

Angel, Part 2 – A Night With Angel

photo . net

The rest of the night blurred by, like so many nights do, when you don’t have the courage to look for a tomorrow. I stumbled home and with her image caught in the narrow grooves of my mind, fell asleep, dreaming of angels. Opening my eyes in drunken squints, “Can someone turn off that damn light?” I laughed, of course not, it was the sun greeting me to a new day. I showered off the smell, but the after effects of the night hung on until afternoon. By then, my mind was way ahead of the day, thinking that tonight I will run into my angel again. She left enough of me wanting her again, to keep my attention. The wolf will let you walk as far away from your den as she can, before she let’s you see her. Wandering after this vision, the evening soon came and I found myself in my usual position at the watering trough of the dive. I stood at the door to look at what the evening would bring in on its air, and, to see my angel, if by chance she would be there. Just as I about gave up and walked in after some other enticement, I heard my name. Now no one calls me by my name, hell, no one knows me, and for that matter no one cared too. It was no surprise this startled me, that, there she was, a big smile on her face, hugging me like I was the last person on earth. How is it that she can like me? How can she even remember me? A thousand questions come at me, I knew I had nothing left to offer anyone at this point in my life. I left those questions alone, like my instinct and self preservation, left alone, defenseless of my own accord. The time quickly passed as slow dance after tempting slow dance, fast dance after erotic, down to the floor, fast dance, rolled through the night. Oh yes, time passed quickly, as she swallowed me into her world. She took me by the hand, “It’s gonna be OK, let me introduce you to what your wife never would. Come follow me.” So I did, seduced not only by pleasure, but by the fact that this young woman would be so taken by me that she would pursue me. The prey should not be so enthralled with this attention, but then again, what prey knows they are just that, until, it is too late.

Also published in: Broowaha

Again – A journey of addiction

“I keep turning over new leaves, and spoiling them, as I used to spoil my copybooks; and I make so many beginnings there never will be an end. (Jo March)” 
gstatic

Morning sun lighting the pain of hopelessness, I got messed up – again.


Ashamed to lift my eyes, chemicals course through my mind

Taking me places NO ONE should ever go – again.

Mind scrambles now, panic mode. What do I say to those who are waiting for me – again?

How can I pick up the pieces? What excuse is good enough for my failure?

Stomach hurting from the stress of seeing her cry.

From hearing the phone that rang countless times –

people who love me looking for me – again.

Gotta get some sleep now, rest and think how I can get out of this mess.

Tomorrow, I’ll make it all better. I’ll work harder, I’ll buy gifts, I’ll really pour on the charm, again

Tomorrow I’ll quit, tomorrow I’ll be fine. I’ll never do this.. Again. Again. Again. 
 Again……..