The Dark Forest

Let me tell you a story...

[innocentpestilence]

The Rubicon Protocol, Part One, Poem One: Irrevocable

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(9) Once.

I was a poet once The words poured from me  A waterfall, a firehose  Natural Forceful  I was many things– once  But I realize I was nothing for far more  A space within myself A void I was a poet once Can’t say I ever will be again But I’ve recently put ink to paper  I am no longer terrified to hold a pen  I rebuilt myself and my world safer  I will never lose myself like that again

The Barrens, Part 5: Mycelium, Poem 9: "Once."

[innocentpestilence]

You’ll leave.  And when you do, I’ll love you all the more for it– I watch you understand for the first time what they’ve done to you.  You’ll leave.  When you realize a gilded cage is a cage nonetheless– And the panic sets in.  You’ll leave. As you dive deeper into what got you here– In my living room, writing a journal.  You’ll leave. When you realize you have wings– And you want to be strong enough too. You’ll leave. When you realize the battles you have to fight– And in the sand, there’s a line.  You’ll leave. When the mirrors and the gold shatter beneath your will– When you learn to fly. You’ll leave. And when you do, I’ll love you all the more for it– I’ll watch your silhouette against the horizon. You’ll leave. With golden wings you forged– From the childhood they stole.

The Rubicon Protocol, Part One, Poem Two: Broken Cages

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“---My heart still breaks. It doesn’t stop breaking. 

I dream of him–

Of Forests dark and deep, of

Flowers of Decay, of 

A goodbye I never got to say.”

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(17) I Cannot

I’m not sure how to write anymore, if I’m going to be honest.

The free-form blocked and tainted by manic-depressive chloroform with

My tear drains and storm ducts blocked as I drown.

I suppose this is how it is now.

I’m still standing at the monument of all of my sins

But it’s grown now.

And I wish to build a House unlike my heart but how

Do I gather my submissives in a row without

Tearing your heart out?

I’ll make a choice amongst this noise

As I’m scared, scarred, screaming silently on our couch

When the gunfire and hellfire and screeching tires tear through my mind

I am not fine-- I’m ecstatic-- and I’m raging and angry and manic

I will never find peace unless I make it myself

No one will ever see my tears while in my world because I will force it to rain

And storm-- hail piercing the sound of my wails around-- I cannot be silent for long.

I cannot be silent for long.

I cannot.

[innocentpestilence]

(16) Modus Operandi

I sit comfortably numb at my desk

In a place I call home as 

The static lines that line my mind 

Turn to tracer rounds skybound and

Define my reality. 

I'm grabbing a full backpack 

As an older and scarred version of me

Screams we are under attack

I don't see any enemies 

But the rifle appeared in my hands anyway. 

My faceless spectral presence haunts me. 

My war torn self screams 

"We need to move and we need to go 

There's only one way home

And that's moving through."

I don't know what happens next. 

I'm back at my desk with my heart 

Screaming for help in my chest. 

I guess I'll move on, nonetheless.

[innocentpestilence]

[innocentpestilence]

[innocentpestilence]

#18

I crave to break

And be free-- unleashed

Leashing another and exploring the creases of

Another human being.

The Demon that wishes my exterior to cease to be

Gnaws at all the laws I hold dear to me

In my heart and gut it screams

No, roars-- wishing to cut and bleed and bleed and bleed

Bind and bow and own and see

How far this precious being

Will go to serve and please

I cannot kill this beast you see

But I will try and try to be

Better than this monster

Show her and myself that this I can beat

That I am better

Than the real me.

[innocentpestilence]

I wondered what it’d be like when you died.

Would I feel anything?

Would it be a fresh, searing scar upon my heart--?

A wound so deep and frustrating

I would lament for the loss of my father?

It’s hard to imagine it so

Thus I breathe a melancholic sigh of relief

I mourned you-- hated you-- loved you before.

When your heartbeat ceases to be

And the world you have build fades

I don’t imagine being full of happiness or hate

See, I learned long before I joined you

That it’s impossible to mourn ghosts.

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What title

What cool, edgy, name

Can I give myself;

When I'm twenty dour

Still dreaming of unzipping my veins

In the dark, lying on my living room floor?

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When I think of ghosts,

I often think of you my friend.

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I haven't written in my notebook

Since my dog died a year ago

Since my last entry describing it so

Brutality, and truthfully.

Maybe I'll write tonight

Tell myself of my plight

Because I've been passive enough

Wasted as such

That I'm not even conscious

In my own mind.

Maybe I'll write

Maybe I'll fight with the woman beside me

Unleash all these ugly scenes

Or so I dream.

Regardless I'll be polite

I'll Express happy and content

Any deviation

Will be my relationships end.

[innocentpestilence]

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The most pervasive nature of grief

Is how softly sinister it is--

Significant still, it burns but does not burn the same.

It burns, but there is no more flame.

Just my charcoal skin remains.

So significant

I can ignore it

My nerve endings burned and turned to ash

I have never asked

If my family blamed me for my dogs death.

As irrational it is because even I cannot cause cancer

I don't think the answer from them matters

I know I'm the disease that shatters

Families like mine.

I couldn't even say goodbye to him.

Not in time.