Losing it. What do I do?

There’s a saying that goes something like, “You don’t know what you got till it’s gone.” For about two years I’ve kind of laughed at that phrase. For some of us, when something is gone we don’t even know what it was which means we don’t miss it.

I’ve been fine with it. I go through each day with a new loss flittering away and I feel fine. That’s because I don’t know what flitters away. Okay, so I know something is likely being lost. I’m aware that memories are lost.

Normally I don’t stress about it because stressing leads to other problems. Recently a memory loss, a huge one, became evident—with vigor.

I’ll explain an “other” problem for a moment. Depression. Well, I don’t know that it really needs to be explained. We all know what depression is. When a memory goes away and I then have people forcing that memory back in my head, or trying to get it back in there, things happen. The brain snaps. I actually at some point feel a pop in my head. I am sure it’s not really anything physical, only a psychological representation of what is happening.

When that happens, Ronovan is gone for a time.

My huge memory loss recently led to such a situation. I would think things were going fine, then wham, another hit from a different side. Lulled into things being okay. Wham, another hit. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.

Now, here I am, depressed, physically ill, and looking for the learning lesson of it all.

Memory problems make for a bad emotional entity. They also make for a bad relationship of any type. You wake up and you don’t know if that person who is your friend, spouse, significant other, father figure is still going to be that for you.

Who is it fair to in that situation? As I’ve been writing this I’ve been sorting through it all. I suppose the best thing is if it’s a repeat offender status thing, cut and run if the situation allows for it. I know live in family members can’t do that but there are things you can do.

Accept the memory loss person (MLP) for who they are, knowing what is possible.

Be supportive in the efforts of the MLP to handle it. Think for a moment about this. You wake up, or are even going along writing or watching a video and then—WHAM—you don’t know what day it is, or what city you are in, or who that person in the other room is. Ever wonder how a person handles that each day?

Think about being in the middle of a sentence and forgetting who it is across the table from you. In this age of internet and digital conversations and friendships it’s even more difficult to remember without those constant physical/visual cues.

People might find it surprising that I wake up and have forgotten the people in my house. Or I will go through one of those situations above. My body goes through a routine each morning and I discover what my problems are and I just go with it. I’ve told myself in letters not to stress, that I am normal. This is normal for me. I tell myself to begin to write something from a list of projects I’m working on.

Sometimes memories will come back or at least enough of a familiarity to make things fine or functionable. Yeah, another of my made up words.

What about the other person, the person forgotten?

What would I do if I were on the other end of this?

I honestly can’t answer that with an all encompassing solution. I think patience is part of it, understanding, and you know maybe even just cut and run. I know people balk at that last one but it is an option. But that is the option people will focus on here because it is seen as the uncaring, cold idea and how could I even think of telling someone to do that if a person cared about the MLP or of the MLP cares about the person.

I’ve been living with this for two years. You get to the point, where after having written about it, thought about it, and lived through it, you cut through it all to the heart or heartless of it all and give solutions.

And what about the MLP? Should they keep trying to remember, opening themselves up to an emotional tug-of-war to then either go through the loss again, perhaps not knowing it, or then being shut off once a connection is established again?

What do I do?

I have no one answer for myself. Perhaps I should, it would make my life easier. Can a person live a life, a healthy life mentally without people? I suppose they can but I’m not that far gone yet.

Now, for those who look at my writing and things I share each day and think I seem normal and I have all these friendships and all, the MLP has tricks they use to get by. Don’t call out the MLP for this if you still want to be a part of their life. At least they are trying.

I’ll tell you one trick I have. It’s called the Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge. No, that’s not a plug for my challenge. I am telling you about a trick. There are people who do the challenge every week, and that means I read their work, usually at least twice, think about it, review it, see their names, and all of that every week. It doesn’t work for each person because of lack of regularity but when I see the name I know it’s familiar and once I get to their site things come back.

MLPs have sensory/emotional impressions of people if not actual memories. I know by a name, if it has been around me long enough, if that person is someone that is positive for me or negative, if that person is a friend or foe, if that person is emotionally good for me or a life drain.

When you hear that old saying about first impressions, it’s true. Make a good first impression and good last impression as well. You are asking, “How do I know when that last impression will be?” Whenever you leave the communication presence of someone, that’s your last impression until the next time you connect with them.

Well, this has been a longer message than I had planned, and I’m not sure if it is even what I had intended, but it is what it is and that’s all that it is. So, as I have just now read back through it, you might find it surprising I forgot about half of what I wrote while I was writing this. But again, it is what it is. I’m not to blame, you are not to blame, there is no blame.

Oh, I just remembered why I was writing this. Seriously. That big recent memory loss I had, like a mind wipe almost, took some important people away and broke things. Hmm, never mind. You know, I’ve tried. I think I will just deal with the depression of it all, come out the other side, and say I am what I am. It’s all I can be. Even if I don’t like it, I have to accept it or wind up on the 6 o’clock news.

 

Much Respect

Ronovan

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Unbearable? I’m Positive.

Drawing of Mark Twain with Quote“Drag your thoughts away from your troubles… by the ears, by the heels, or any other way you can manage it.”~Mark Twain

 

“Dwelling is a house you live in, not a situation to waste your life on.”~Ronovan

 

I had great plans for writing today. I ended up with something else. Great or not is not for me to decide. I write, you read. Opinions are made. Words are put down in either situation, planned or not, the results may end up the same. I personally am okay with whatever happens.

A day meant for creating a biography of my inspiration for wanting to become a teacher, Sidney Poitier in the movie To Sir with Love, along with quotes from his autobiography lying next to my notebook and me, turned into a day of pain that many would call unbearable. I can laugh at that phrase.

People say they went through unbearable this or that. I like to ask, “If it was so unbearable, why am I am speaking to you standing up, instead of speaking over you lying down?”

My sadistic joy comes from the looks of puzzlement. Looking to the quotes I put forth at the beginning today, and my presence here in writing this article, what my opinion is on the unbearable pain I have gone through over the past few days, and specifically the past 24 hours should be apparent.

My Fibromyalgia is an ugly animal. It is one I have come to know and respect. Never become too comfortable with an animal, even a pet. Once you do, something will happen. A new trait comes out. Or maybe something totally unrelated. Hopefully to find out soon.

What have I done today?

  • I cannibalized the first few chapters of my book to create a new beginning.
  • Had a great surprise with one of my articles being selected for the KindnessBlog.com.
  • Dr. KO and I had an exchange in comments on a post that was enjoyable.
  • I have an author interview agreement with a very nice lady.
  • And every other moment I slept.

Why sleep? Sleep don’t hurt. But also, I need sleep. What I did today was make progress in many areas and rested as much as I could. Rest isn’t something I don’t normally do. Even while succumbing to Chronic Fatigue it isn’t rest I am getting.

Even now while writing this article I have stopped several times due to the pain. I rarely ever stop because of pain. An article that should have taken me 15 minutes has so far taken me over two hours.

I’ve enjoyed it. Thinking is a great pastime for me. I love to get thinky, as I like to call it. This past year and half has allowed for some great thinky times. Every day I have a thinky moment. At least one. Usually more. That’s one reason I blog. I like to use those thinky times as inspiration for articles. Be grateful I don’t put all those moments on the blog.

I mentioned earlier that I was happy with whatever the results of the article might be today. Why? I wrote. That’s why. Did I write well? Not really, but I wrote. And that is a positive day to me.

Remember to connect with me at one of the following. Well, at least one.

https://twitter.com/RonovanWrites

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ronovan-Writes/630347477034132

https://plus.google.com/u/0/+RonovanWrites/about

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Your Rewards. (Poetry)

haiku-ronovan-writes

I normally have an image with my Haiku. Today I couldn’t come up with one that matched the words that I was able to truly capture what was in my mind. Perhaps later it will come to me but for now here are the words. I believe words some of us can too often identify with. This is my one Challenge Haiku of the week. I do hope you enjoy, or rather not enjoy.

Rare Loving Moments,

Are your rewards for Your Heart,

Receiving Harsh Words?

 

 
Ron_LWI

 

 

 
 
 

@RonovanWrites
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Not Quick Enough (A Poem of Tragedy Explained)

I hear your voicepoetry loss

Two words

They hammer at the wall

Of my mind’s death

Heaven sent

Or heart found

I am pulled from the darkness

I breathe

I grieve

I mourn

I want the death again

Why this torture for me

Why the agony of this loss

Why so here and so not

Why

Days of pleading prevail

Please, God bring my ease

Please, God bring me release

Please, God break my mind again

Please, God

Knowing but still nothing

Two words

Freeing me from death

Condemning me to worse

Why were you taken

Why

Where is the never ending joy

Where is my peace

Why does my heart need ache

Why every day

Free me from this tearing of my soul

I pray for an end

Not quick enough

 

@RonovanWrites

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The story of a poem. Think of a man who is in the hospital and unconscious. He hears a voice calling to him, he sees a face. He sees a little girl’s face. He opens his eyes to a place he doesn’t know, with a broken mind. The little girl isn’t there. Where is she? The little girl was never born. She called out to the man. It wasn’t his turn. She used what she could to tell him it just wasn’t his time yet.

Flash forward and the man remembers about the little girl. He remembers who the little girl is. He wants it to be his time. But his time is not quick enough. He wants the memory to go away. But it won’t go away quick enough.

I have seen comments to this poem and I have even seen poems written as  a response in which I am tagged in. Thank you for the thoughts and the words, but the suppositions are nowhere near the mark. This is one that cannot recover, cannot be brought back, cannot be made to have a better day. If  you pray, pray I forget that I once gain forget the memories that came to me that inspired this poem. Please do so.

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Free Me To Death-A Haiku

haiku-ronovan-writes

Two words created to inspire creativity. For some it pulls out of them a positive and uplifting experience as they tap into either a fun and joyful memory or moment. For others it may be the complete opposite. That is the magic of words. You never know for certain what will be brought to the mind, even to the mind of the one creating the words. Or perhaps for some there is no surprise where this lost mind travels.

haiku poetry

I hear you calling,

Forcing my lost mind to break,

You free me to death.

much-respect-ronovan

@RonovanWrites

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Remnants

remanants_haiku_ronovan.jpg

I hunt through these cracks

For remnants of a lost dream

Search the wind that tears.

 

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Truth buried deep within… (A poem)

The truth of it is,

Something you don’t want to know,

Is my love runs deep.

How deep you may ask,

Does it run into this man,

Whose truth is a search?

That truth is a loss,

Of something he cannot find,

Buried dark and deep.

But with truth in love,

I will return to the light,

So deep in us all.

silhouette of man looking out window with flare
gettyimages © Original Photo by Tara Moore

Ronovan~11~19~2014

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Dream Helper . . .

Losing time for no reason other than pain riddled life
Why have I been given this disease of grief and strife
Have I been punished for a life I don’t know of
Is the enemy torturing me so I deny that from above

Weathered bones and depleted nerves
I wander through the days wondering what this life serves
Pushing my cart of rotting dreams gone bad
Longing for things that I wish I had

The lightning strikes through skull and soul
I lie awake nights as the time slowly takes its toll
I arise each day to be the happy one
As I dread the appearance of the dawn breaking sun

But who will be the one to carry on the days cheer
If I am the one that decides to no longer be here
Yes, I am at times lower than the low
But I know I must pick myself up and continue to go

I am the encourager, the uplifter these are my gifts
My goal each day is to keep people on the path of dreams, no drifts
I have thought my life goal was to share my words to the extreme
But now as I write I know I am here to help you with your dream

dream_helper

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Screams Pain

Misunderstandings

Release destruction on earth,

Like a haunt screams pain.

 

 Man in Pain

 

(my first for my prompt challenge this week of haunt&release-scent of fear.)

Ronovan

 

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My Sunday Thought: Freedom . . . but from what?

It’s a rough Sunday morning today. The old body is not cooperating. Got one of them flares going today, well the past few it I am to be honest. I wasn’t going to do my Sunday Thought today but I needed a bit of the Word.

I was hoping God would say something like, “I shall taketh your paineth awayeth righteth noweth.” You know someday I’ll know what his voice really sounds like, as in the actual sound of it. I see his ‘voice’ all around me at work, so to speak.

So what verses did I get today from the websites I like to use to give me a bit of variety to my Bible studies?

“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.-2 Corinthians 3:17

At first, if you don’t really read much of the Bible it doesn’t say much to you, but for me it did . . . after a moment. For me the Spirit is inside of me. The Spirit sets us free from a  lot of things.

This brings to mind the  saying “The Truth shall set you free.” The origin of that is Jesus talking about his being the Truth and those who know him and follow him will be set free. Free of what? Free of the consequences of all we’ve done here on earth when we pass on. Oh sure, we won’t get everything we could have in Heaven, all the rewards set aside for us, but as long as I get there, I’m good.

Maybe a better explanation is that we are free from being under the rule of sin. See, I’m not under that rule any longer. Sure, I will have to answer for things but as Mark Lowry said it “Sure Beats Hell”.

So what does that verse do for me in the middle of a Fribromyalgia Flare? It lets me know that eventually I’ll have a healthy and pain free existence down the line.

Along with this verse I received;

“And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister.”-1 John 4:21

When you have the Spirit inside of you and you have Jesus, and I mean for real, not just saying you’re a Christian, trust me there are a lot of Play-Christians out there, but when you are for real, then realize it’s easy to love your brother and sister. This doesn’t just mean your relatives. And by loving people it sure does take a lot of that pain of hating off of your body, your heart. The stress of hanging onto that grudge or that whatever goes away.

This even reminds me of something I wrote about where a celebrity said a few things recently about a, well I’ll call us civilians, but anyway, if the celebrity just took a step back then it would have been realized there was no reason for the reaction.

That Spirit frees you up from a lot of things, but you have to be active with it. Don’t just think because you walked an aisle or whatever to get saved one Sunday means you are automatically changed into a better person than you were. It’s the first step.

I was saved for a long time before I think I could really call myself a Christian. Things changed for me after that. Not everything, I still messed up because I was a dumb human. Still am one actually. Still mess up actually. But I at least am aware of what my mess ups are.

Do any of these verses take my pain away or cure me? No. But studying the Word does make one feel better about where we are and the future. You see, I know things may look bad, and I try to help and do the best I can while I am here, but I know that down the line I will be just fine. After all  I’m a foreigner here in this land. My home is another place.

Well that’s about it for me today. I know it was a bit disjointed today, but I’m good with it.

Much Respect

Ronovan

ron_full_river - cropped

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Romans 1:16

 

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I am tired.

I am tired.

And I am not just talking about my Chronic Fatigue as part of my Fibromyalgia. For that I just instantly shutdown the laptop and lie down.

No I am tired of other things.

I am tired of not knowing for certain if I say the right things at times.

I am tired of things I say maybe being interpreted the wrong way because that’s how everyone else means it.

I am tired of worrying about a 10 year old’s Home Work and Test grades because of whatever reasons. (My son has good grades, just to clarify.)

I am tired of not having time to write my books.

I am tired of worrying if my next post is going to come across as negative or as a downer.

I am tired of worrying if I am going to lose another friend for an unknown reason.

I am tired of worrying if I am going to lose a friend because of just not saying things the right way.

And yes . . .

I am tired of having migraines every second of my life now.

I am tired of the pain through my back, neck, arms and hands every time I type or even breathe.

I am tired of every time I walk past a TV all I see or hear is something negative and another death or another threat.

I am tired of politicians without . . . well I was going to say a bit of crudeness but instead I will say . . . without a back bone to actually say what needs to be said and stand up and do what needs to be done.

I am tired of the US of A trying to take care of the world when it can’t take care of itself.

I am tired of people judging people.

I am tired.

 

I am tired of my mind thinking of the dread.

A dread of what will come, what is ahead.

What is ahead is something I have no control.

A control that I lack and is slowly taking its toll.

What are you tired of?

 

RonHeadDown - Copy

Ronovan

 

2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com

What am I?

There are things I can’t describe even with my words.

I see in my mind these thoughts that are distant that I want.

I can’t quite reach them but I know they need to be had.

They are like a wisp of mist as I almost touch them.

 

questions2

 

Why can’t they be tangible?

I can see them and know what they are.

I want them.

Why can they not just be?

 

Frustrations churn in my brain.

People wonder why I seem to be going insane.

I want to scream but then what would happen?

I would prove them right, that I am no longer capable of existing.

 

I simply want those thoughts, or are they dreams?

Am I dreaming these things that I see in my mind?questions1

How can one tell what is real and what is not?

I want to know reality.

 

But what if reality is so bad I cannot bear it?

What if the dream is protecting me from something?

What if I don’t need to know the truth?

Are there people letting me live a lie?

 

Questions3

 

What am I?

Am I really here and in this place?

Am I a make believe part of a fantasy of my own mind?

What if I never woke up that day?

 

What if this isn’t even happening?

 

 

LMP

2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com

 

Shattered pieces.

Words can’t escape from my head.shattered_pieces

Sometimes I think it might be better off dead.

It doesn’t considerate much at all.

I tend to blame it all . . . on the fall.

 

Maybe I’m just a bit naive.

Or perhaps I simply self deceive.

Round and round the matters flow.

But doesn’t matter where they all go?

 

I’m terrified of a sound.

Shadows follow me all around.

Wherever I go there they are.

Is there such a place as too far?

 

Tempered thoughts slash to the core.

They remind of things that were no more.

Angry letters in a row.

All I really ever can do is put on a picture show.

 

It’s much too late for sorry now.

The deed I’ve done has been written down.

Damaged cells in my mind.

Added to the others so easy to find.

 

It’s easy to forget, when you have no need for a net. Then you fall you shatter to pieces, because your guard was let down and your defense ceases.

 

Ronovan

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My Loves: A Man’s Testimony of Heart

What kind of love do men feel? I considered searching for opinions and comparing them to what I come up with, but then I decided that since I am writing this from a man’s perspective, specifically mine, that I would just go with my own thoughts. After all, I’ve been told in the past there isn’t a doubt about my being a man. I’ve always taken that as a compliment.

shattered_heart.jpg

What love does a man feel? I could go into the various loves of sports and foods but I’m not doing that today. Instead I wanted to discuss the real things that pull, pound, and pulverize the heart. The kinds of love that when they don’t go right, leave you feeling like you have the worst flu any man can ever have.

 

This is about loves for a woman. This is about the loves that men don’t talk about. This about the loves men deny that have to their friends. But if you are a man and you say you’ve never had one of these loves, then . . . count yourself blessed or else have an exam done because you are in denial.

 

Men get those loves. Is there a level order of love? Men think much of order in things like this. I’m not sure why and I don’t really care to delve into the why. At this moment my heart is on loves. I often wonder when it isn’t.

 

I see no reason to not just say I as I write this. Why not say man or men? I’m speaking from what I know. I am sure other men feel or have felt what I might talk about, but this is me. As I begin this I have no plan. What you read will be whatever comes out of me as I go. Think of this as an open heart letter unedited.

 

My Loves: A Man’s Testimony of Heart

by: Ronovan

Love from afar. I know her but she’s out of reach. The thought of her for a moment makes the world lighter than air but then the aching heart begins. My mind quickly tells me the truth. I fight it. I don’t want to know the truth, I just want those moments of happiness, even if they are illusions and delusions. They only harm me. Why can I not enjoy them for a moment?

Continue reading

I try to write but all I get is hit

Sunglasses  Dark

I try to write but all I get is hit.

I can’t finish a sentence before someone starts talkin’ some . . .

I just want to sit here and speak my peace.

Why can’t they all stop, make their jabbering  cease?

 

Oh man you’re just on a burnout  quest.

I’m not part of it, I’m better than all the rest.

What, serious, are you freakin’ out of your mind?

You’re one of the biggest of the whacked out kind.

 

Look at me, do I look like I’m okay?

Do you hear my words, listen to what I say?

No, I can tell that you don’t hear,

Cause if you did you would just disappear.

 

Don’t look at me like that, trying to make me feel bad.

I’ve been dealing with your crap before you even knew you were sad.

So why don’t you give it a rest?

Don’t you know it would be for the best?

 

But, no, uh uh, you don’t know even have a clue,

My biggest dilemma is what to do with you.

Only one thing keeps it all from breakin’ loose.

I’m not ready for no hangman’s noose.

 

I’m here, and I’m stayin’, nothin’ gonna change that.

So just you back off real quick and stop actin’ like a brat.

I tell you this once so listen real clear, if you think this is about you,

Then ask yourself why do you think it could be true?

 

LMP

 

 

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Just accept and shut up!

Why do I have to accept?depressed_woman_black_white.jpg

Why do I have to take it?

Why do I have to bear the burden?

Why do I have to face it!?!

 

Why does my happiness not matter?

Why is everything I do so wrong?

Having to pack your yell’s into my heart!

Letting the hurt build up until I explode!

 

I start to focus on myself

And you complain.

I’m such an egoist

Lazy

And

Do

Nothing….

While I wilt

Here

Like a dead flower

Rotten in your eyes.

Forever having to except all that you dish out

Never being able to express myself

Or complain.

Because you sit

You work long hard stressful hours

And I am selfish

And not what

You expect me to be.

 

Just Kind and caring

Guess it does not matter

Because I will always be

Nothing in your eyes.

 

 

~Anonymous 1~

 

I received this poem from someone who wanted share it but had no place it could be shared. I think you can guess why. It was an honor that this person felt comfortable enough and trust me enough to ask me to put it on my site. I think whether you are male or female in a relationship you can identify with this.

The tags chosen for this poem are mine. I am sure there should be others but the important part is the poem was shared.

Much Respect

Ronovan

 

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These Hells

The feeding frenzy begins, as the dark brick wall spins

 

Spiral clouds filled with angel light, laughing tease my denying sight

 

No one ever said life would be fun, but then again no one said demons would overrun

 

My mind feeds on the dark things, it hunts and pecks until torment springs

 

I watch from the corner as it takes hold, shivering in despair as if it were winter time cold

 

Is there a way to break free from this pain filled cell, or am I forever bound to my skull shaped hell

 

Do not try or attempt to placate me to a smile, all you will bring is darkness and bile

 

A cheerful soul you can not produce, all you do is cause to make my hold more loose

 

The waves of this tormented ride, are the path of a coaster not to be denied

 

All I do is float out among the swells, and hope for my sake . . . to reach the other side . . . of These Hells

skull

 

 

LMP

2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com

 

Never worry no more.

Normally I wait until after a piece to tell you the inspiration. Not this time. Fibromyalgia is bad. It can hurt so much you feel like you are going insane. Every emotion is magnified to an incredible level. Therefore depression can be bad, very bad. When you read this, it’s a Bluesy or Soul sounding thing, slow, pausing at the end of each line. I guess you could think of some of Alicia Keys work. I think you will get  feel for it maybe, or you can just read it like a poem. Depression and a brutal broken heart can feel the same way. I’m there tonight.

cropped-black-sight.jpg

 

My heart’s still poundin’ though you’re gone

It never really mattered what was wrong

I only wanted to be with you  for so long

And that was to be forever ever and ever and ever

 

But now I sit her all alone

Darkness closes in on me in my fears

Never have I been so filled with so so many tears

Now I can’t see anything through the bleary eyes of  what you’ve done

 

Oh Oh Oh Oh I’m never gonna forgive you this pain

You drove the stake through very vein

Why Why Why Why did you even even even . . . learn my name

But I only have myself to blame

 

There are ways to forget

There are ways I have left yet

There no reasons for regret

I’m just going to gamble on a bet

 

Never Never Never Never oh never call me again

Tear drops falling like a tornado filled with rain

Simple truths are simply made up lies

You fooled me once  and twice and more with those eyes

 

Oh baby just let me die.

Oh Oh Oh Oh I hate this time ever came to me

Why did you even ever have to be

Now I follow a path to eternity

 

Kill me once kill me twice and maybe I will forget

Oh baby you always knew just where to hit

You cut me with those words like a blade

Go ahead and cover my body with that old rusty spade

 

There are ways to forget

There are ways I have left yet

There no reasons for regret

I’m just going to gamble on a bet

 

Now I can rest and never worry no more

 

LMP

2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com

The Eminent Fall.

It was about to snap, the brittle bound signalling line.

He didn’t know what to do as they all cried out, “Mine, mine, mine.”

The ticktock ticktock kept a measured beat.

Drowned out by their pounding clambering feet.

 

“No, no,” he cried to as if words would drive them back.

The more he screamed the more they came on the attack.

Did they sense it, the eminent fall?

Like an important phone call?

 

The twisting made the agony more than imagining.

The is was for real and too much for his handling.

The pulling grew stronger, as the line began to stretch.

What would happen when it snapped, would they catch?

 

“It’s okay,” they say as they keep telling him their reasons.

What they don’t know is he’s almost out of seasons.

The warnings are there, as he has constantly repeated.

But they never listen, they just want be sweetly greeted.

 

“Screw you,” he says through his dilapidated mind.

The snap they hear in his voice a shock, a new creature unkind.

“I told you to leave me alone,” he shouts.

All he receives in return are lips . . . all pouts.

 

“Sorry,” he says and their eyes begin to glow.

He shakes his head. “Your games a no go.

I know what your playin’ and it’s so tired.

So long to you all, it’s over, expired.”

 

Thomas_Vogel

He turns his way and then flips out the light.

One last look back and then he walks out into the night.

He wanders out into a place never before seen.

The streets are paved and the colors a majestic scene.

 

Finally peace, he thinks as eyebrows raise.

He finds a spot to relax and drifts as tired eyes glaze.

He faintly hears as he slips off into space,

The beautiful sounds . . .  of Amazing Grace.

 

Much Love to You All

&

To All a Goodnight

Ronovan

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Original Image Credit: gettyimages © Original Photo by Thomas Vogel

2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com

Rage & Flammable: Weekly Haiku Challenge 8

Wow, what she did with the image on this, I am so jealous. I gotta learn this! I just love this lady.