Breaking Spells

September 7, 2017

I break the logical positive, being one who has walked a path below.

Outside, people outcast me as a cloud full of rain, but they will need when the storm arrives.

Pain cascades through every bit of my existence, better I know what it feels like when the floods of your essence break thier banks, the only love I can give you understand or accept.

Hatred in mind because I despise my station as the field mouse hates being a blind catch for a hungry predator. 

Breaking the spells of this world you see shining because I’ve only seen the dull ache of time and entropy, and have yet to see anything bloom full.

Remember when the history proves it out, either way you remain happily oblvious and here I am, haunted by repeated experience, chomping at the bit that never gives.

-Thomas Spychalski 

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Tonight.

September 4, 2017

Tonight the air feels stale, as I lay awake in bed.

Feeling quite alone still as one day melds into the next.

Rather tonight lasted forever, as tomorrow will only be another day in a long list of copies.

Tonight that day has yet to come, toiling in places we despise, arriving to a empty room after, but from here it has yet to happen.
Questions abound tonight about what is to be done, but the mind is uneasy and spoils the body as well.

Tonight we are unsure of what is dream and what is reality, tonight we ride on the dull razor of perpetual seduction of what is known.

It is never well to be shrouded in the night, never well to dread the approach of a new day, but this play has taken the stage before, sold out, standing room only.

-Thomas Spychalski 


Ghost World

September 4, 2017

Barren, empty days lead to endless lonely nights,

Most pray for riches, I pray just to belong.

Population overload, but still I do not know what makes me so transparent.

 

The ghost world I inhabit has nothing and no one for me, all of you like spirits who I can see but who cannot see me at all.

Haunting my own life, walking in endless patterns as I wait to be properly buried from my youthful death.

Thomas Spychalski


Forgive, Forget, Forgive.

September 3, 2017

One day the mirror speaks, asks why we look so cold,

My only response: “Brother, this is getting old.”

Burn many bridges, make many amends,

Save your self-abuser, kill your friends.

 

Forgive, forget, forgive…

heart like a lion, mind like a sieve,

Forget, forgive, forget…

brilliance was forgotten, now just a threat.

I know none can trust me anymore, but they hold on still, want me to wake up, even if we never make up because even the coldest of stars hate to see another fall from the skies.

 

One night the wounds might speak, ask why can’t we heal?

My response: “But it’s you that spins this wheel.”

Act like we don’t see, turn you back on those to be,

Blessing the demons, shunning ‘Mother’ unapologetically.

 

Forgive, forget, forgive…

heart like a lion, mind like a sieve,

Forget, forgive, forget…

brilliance was forgotten, now just a threat.

I know none can trust me anymore, but they hold on still, want me to wake up, even if we never make up because even the coldest of stars hate to see another fall from the skies.

-Thomas Spychalski


Wise Thought of the Day #7

August 29, 2017

“Sometimes when people tell you that they cannot tell you the truth to spare your feelings that may be true, but chances are they are also sparing themselves from feeling certain emotions as well.”

TWS


Spider Bites

August 29, 2017

Basic story idea from this Writing Prompt, opinions, advice, and comments gratefully taken and desired. 

liftarn_Girl_silhouette

Henry balled up both his fists again, the tight olive green t-shirt straining at the mass of his upper arm as he started his swinging motion, the same kind of T-shirt he told Cynthia he used to wear during basic training.

Thwack, thwack, boom!

Cynthia felt the pain explode in her head as she fell onto the kitchen floor, her hands shielding her head as she went into a fetal position. Cynthia’s right hand felt around her temple and her fingers slid into something wet and slightly warm, like some soup left in a pot that had to be reheated before it could be served.

Her eyes were closed but Cynthia could hear Henry take a step closer in his steel toe work boots. There was a minute moment of perfect silence, a muttering of what might have been the word: ‘Bitch,’ and then the pain and the blood from her now throbbing head was quickly forgotten as a worse pain exploded in her stomach and all the air was forced out of her lungs.

It was as if one pain outranked the other and told it who was in charge when it came to the pain game.

All this over a spider.

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Branded For Life

August 28, 2017

So I told you I needed you, yet everyone turned me aside,

You see it like it’s just life, a joke, but what about my pride?

Wonder how can one be so negative, Because I never have seen any alternative.

Branded for life, a life that no one sees…

Branded for life, I’m still on my knees…

And still, the dreams do call, wish I could seal them all inside this wall,

What’s the use of dreams when they only see the branding on my back?

Tried to pick up, walk tall as I can and shake off the dirt,

Still, nothing but rejection and misery did flirt,

Praying that someone can set me free, I cannot get past the stains in me.

Branded for life, as a person who will never fully be…

Branded for life, when I reached out burned to the Nth degree…

And still, the longing remains, lost in the eternal thought flames,

Why are these wounds that never heal, when I apply pressure they just bleed out.

Don’t want to scare or make you feel concern,

Just want to know how to heal this lingering burn,

Still trying to stand on feet that will not carry, because I feel ancillary.

Branded for life, not sure how much further I can stand…

Branded for life, always remaining second-class, secondhand…
Want the nightmare to end, but when are we awake the way others breathe?

Branded for life, never wanted this knife, did not desire the strife, and at midlife, I find myself curious about the afterlife, where the brand might finally leave me in peace instead of pieces.

Thomas Spychalski. 


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