A Poets Mind

So many words, yet none are pink. No flowers, rainbows, or smiles from me. "Why" they say," do you write such things?" The answer is simple, to their surprise. I write to release the darker side. The smell is so awful, it keeps me awake. So I disguise them as words and trap them in ink. They rot in my soul, and the smell is quite fowl. So I get rid of them, and this is how. They are so unaware when I choose my words, that by the time they are scared, they've already been heard. These things that keep me up at night. These things that are so grim - I have no way to fight them, so I carefully use my pen. You see, my friend, I will confess, these things do take control. So the only way to lose them is to free them from my soul. I know you think my words are dark. And yes they are, indeed. So I trap them in a clever rhyme, so at last, I know I'm free.

What I've Lost

I have lost many things in my life. There was the sea shells my father plucked from the oceans shore. I miss that. There was the doll he bought me and never gave. He thought I would not want it. There was my virginity. That boy left a many year ago. There was a cousin or two. Both died from bullets. There was a friend or seven, along the way. They moved on. There was an innocence. Some man took it. There was my character. I gave it away. There was my drive. I drove it away. Then there was my family. They were never there. I lost my brother to a girl, and the other to disease. I've lost some money. It comes and goes. I've lost some books. I never read them though. I almost lost my husband. But he decided to stay. Pitty - I'm guessing, for a girl that lost her way. And somewhere in the midst of all these things I lost... I lost the most important thing. My sanity is gone. I know that I pretend. I do put on a show. Sometimes I even mop the floor. I do better when I'm alone. This week I will lose something else. In years to come my children will leave. I keep on losing all I have. Ultimately... I've lost Me.

Not Afraid of You

There is no other drug that I would rather do
Than the hate and love that you put me through
And even though you hate this truth
Im not afraid of you

I can see past the pain, and nakedly walk through the rain
Arms wide open and eyes towards the sky
Bring on the rain and tempt me with your lies

You throw yourself around the house in disoriented rage
Fighting demons in your head, locked up in a cage.
They taunt you with their insults and fight you with their cries.
They test you with their consults and hide behind your eyes.

They tell you your not good enough.
They tell you your not right.
They take your edge and make it rough,
They take your heart and make it fight.

But I can see past them. They’re demons in the dark.
My eyes are wide open and I can see your heart.
Your not a monster, not a bad guy, nor a devil in disguise.
You’re a prisoner of guilt, and shame, and demon-chanting lies.

So go ahead and hate me. Go ahead and swear. Go ahead and take the pain and fines it with a dare. Hate me with indulgence, and ravage me in sin. Despise the eyes that see you, and everything within.

Cause even in your darkest, there’s a soul that sees a light. I’m addicted to the good in you, so have sweet dreams tonight.

- Christy Dunbar

A Satire on Suicide

Throwing the Game

I wondered from a young age if it would trickle, run, or spew out profusely.
I wondered if it would hurt, numb, or somehow relieve me.
I wondered at length if I would regret it.
I wondered if calmly, Id simply forget it.
I wondered the color,
I wondered the flow,
I wondered the time it would take to completely let go.
I wondered if Id sleep before the great end,
Or if any of you would still call me your friend.
I wondered at length if I’d change my mind.
Or if slowly Id weaken, and wish for more time.
I wondered how messy the end scene would be.
And prayed Id go easy, and finally be free.

But night after night as I sat at that like
I never imagined Id make a mistake.
Life is a failure, no matter my try.
Melancholy you call me, but that’s how I resign.
So there in that moment, with note perfectly placed
I set forth on my task, with diligence and grace
I said my last prayer, and sighed my last sigh
And slowly I cut into my last goodbye

Then waited and waited and waited did I
For the crimson to flow with a quickness of time.
But slowly it poured, and then it would clot.
So then I would clean it, but it continued to stop.
Tedious and messy and a wasting of time.
I must have cut into the wrong damn line!
I thought for a moment of cutting again,
But worried I’d error, and double the sin!
So now here I sit, bandaged in shame,
For my failed attempt throwing the game.

- Christy Dunbar

A Lost Cause

Twisted lies that are never spoken - only implied, give me a sense of solitude amongst the deadliest of sins.
I feel an emptiness, that is as deep and dark as the oceans depth, and as far-reaching as the mysteries of the universe.

Your grip reaches my soul and pulls me close to you. It does not let go. It holds on for dear life, even when your words cast me away.
Your eyes permeate my own, and burn hated passion into my corneas.

I can not turn from them. Resistance, even in compliance, only renders a stronger clasp. It is a love not unlike a child’s set of Chinese handcuffs:
The more attempts to escape, the more imprisoning it becomes.

Logic has no place within the four walls of this room. It has escaped me. I search for a door, a window, an air vent, anything. But there is no way out. I am trapped here; while the cries of family and friends become more faint as each day passes. They are loosing hope that they will ever rescue me.

“A lost cause”… become the last words I hear.

- Christy Dunbar