Sweat, blood, and tears, struggle into the void of disquiet where nothing gets done. My forehead misty with fear, the black, red, and blue painted over pale the wreckage is breathing. Empty conversations, eyes diverted hands locked. The lungs are teabags, soaked and used, until they are flavourless. Kate Gough is a Calgary based poet and a member of the online poetry community. Her work deals with the modernizing of romantic literary sensibilities and the exploration of traum
A point blank stare is a fire in the rain A wide-awake nightmare that We are all the same Your mind takes flight As it enters your soul Deeper and deeper Into the rabbit hole It only stops where Nobody goes A widespread pain is a fire not contained Burning wild and free like You and me Hear Ye, Hear Ye! This is what life ought to be Abandoning ideologies Defeating all indignities Discovering our identities Leaving blood upon my eyes Like shedding flaming tears Only when we se
At fifteen I found myself staring deeply at a ceiling barely visible.
My mind was clustered with delusions of uncontrollable outcomes and my reason clouded with tears. I had no thought of farewell; A single letter could never convey emotions for the ones I love.
I saw no solution to the inevitable course of my life. I was destined for greatness among shit circumstance and a declining mental state. The rope holding me up kept getting tighter, and with a mouthful of medicatio
Dust on the windowsill again, reclaimed from things forgotten.
As the door opens, the sun sets and you
walk in with turtles in your eyes full
enough to make your expression expressionless. “It’s nothing,” you say, “the hurting itself—
it’s the ceaselessness, the way it’s so heavy
how pain only ends by more pain.”
Your eyes stand beyond crying, their tears dried themselves. No words could equal it, not to you.
I’m powerless, like a sun forced to set
against its will. W
Here is where my feet carve the sand,
like mountains that tear now from then as if there was something shameful
in being almost broken—
unformed glass, tearing bit by bit,
they don't know themselves
what beauty contains. And I say to myself, not again, I won't. Here, too, are the tears of things, here no snowfall is enough
to cover what time could not bear. And I whisper, I wait but—
who could save me, when we're all drowning one way or another? Decay happens daily, no
I. Hearken an Aching Heart There’s a feeling deep in my being, reaching up, felt in the canals I made of my body. Felt in the irregular heartbeat, hearts meet. Light blasts into the wooden room at a soft angle song angels dance in the dust I let my tears fall into the approaching dusk, and wave goodbye to who I was. Taking a heavy step forward, Older, now. II. An Inquiry What have you seen? -All. Who have you told? -None. Why? III. Left alone, Silent throne -away chances of m
We use it to tell our bodies what to do Raise our heads, wash our hands move our limbs any direction we need to. lie or sit, or kneel, or stand. There are so many pieces at work Dry our eyes, clean our face from wiggling toes to a grinning smirk.
make the tears disappear without a trace. Sensors signal nerves to stand on alert Arrange our mouths into a flashy smile decide whether to assert or divert.
stash away the hurt for a little while. Make a choice to
blocks of shattered seashells on fire ridged and burning in my stomach up to my sternum my lungs closing in my heart mingles with the smoke that travels to my head the tidal tears building behind my eyes being stopped like a sand dune suppresses the waves the current traveling up into my brain pressures my skull till it bursts down to my eyes the hurricane welcomes the pressure of the sea salt water crashing over me i am drowning deep wishing to swim out of the water but the
Is this discovery or disintegration?
Poetry and philosophy annihilates the precipice
Fear of abandonment and the idea of death
Fall apart in the face of natural phenomena
I am a fortress, though I am penetrable
Undeniable, genuine, there is no absence of theory,
Spending allotted time every single day to contemplate and stare
Into the numb silence of truth, as I honor an arsenal of Coping mechanisms
Gasping, but not out of breath
Dispensing tears, but not from ey