Clouded Mind

    The sky,
releasing its drowning cry,
transforms the world into a
maddening sigh.

    The rain,
plummeting with disdain,
fights the fall but descends
in vain.

    The trees,
swaying from the torrid breeze,
shiver and pray for the slightest
of ease.

    My mind,
thinking of thoughts unkind,
wishes for better words to
be rhymed.

(b.m.)

Closed Windows

I'm 10.

It's a warm summer's day. So much brightness. 

I'm riding in the back seat of the car as mom and dad

happily hum to whatever's playing on the radio, 

with my brother next to me excitedly yelling at his 

Nintendo DS, dramatically waving his fists to the sky

in frustration. The windows are all rolled down,

filling the car with the smell of freshly cut grass.

My eyes are closed, head leaned to the side, letting

the warmth of the sun kiss my face while the

gentle breeze caresses it. I let my arm hang out of

the window, my hand floating in the air like a surfer 

on calm waters.

Peaceful. 

I'm 22.

It's an overcast summer's day. So much humidity.

I'm riding in the passenger seat of the car as my mom

drives in silence, apart from the humming of the air

conditioning. She has a headache. My brother is in the

back seat, body hunched over, face buried in his phone.

Mindlessly scrolling. The windows are all up, and all I

can smell is the stench of a road-killed skunk seeping

through the vents. My tired eyes fight to stay open as my

head slumps back onto the headrest. Dark shaded

glasses conceal my face. Hands restlessly fidgeting

in my lap.

Anxious.

And I was so quick to grow up.

(b.m.)

Fly Flying

I was watching a fly flying,

Listening to its buzzing buzz.

How quaint I thought this little fly,

How loudly I heard it buzzing by.

Wishing this fly would fly away.

Wishing this day would die away.

Suddenly the fly stopped flying,

And the buzz stopped buzzing.

I looked up and down,

I looked all around.

Until I noticed a peculiar plant,

Planted on the table’s top.

In this plant the fly was trying,

Trying, but failing at flying. 

Lured, it was, by a sticky fuzz,

And never again will it loudly buzz.

How silly I thought this little fly,

How sad I felt to say goodbye.

I wished that this fly would fly away,

And that this day would die away.

But now the fly is dying away, 

 And the day's no sooner flying away.

Now, like the fly, my thoughts too decay.

Now I’m wishing a fly would fly my way.

(b.m.)

Shadowed Identity

How did I get here, 

in this place so void of hope and joy? 

What once was light is now dark 

and all I can see is pain as stark as the stars 

in the night's sky. 

The fatigue plaguing my bones is what this illness does, 

making everything feel like this hazy fuzz and

I'm nothing but a shadow of what I once

was.

The magic blue pills that my doctor prescribed 

are supposed to help with this pain I've described

but it's hard to fix what's buried so very deep 

inside.

So please, try to understand that when you tell me

"it's all in your head" as if that's the answer to 

all of this dread, that I want nothing more

than to be dead because I would be rich if I got a

penny for every time I have ever heard that said.

(b.m.)

Series: Ticking Clock

#1

tick
tick

Mind racing.
Feet pacing.

    tick
    tick

Hands shaking.
Heart aching.

tick
tick

Sleep delaying.
Thoughts decaying.

    tick
    tick

Mouth pleading.
Skin bleeding.

tick


tick




tick.

(b.m.)


#2

I got a splinter in my hand yesterday,
Still, the clock ticked.
Things didn't go as planned yesterday,
Still, the clock ticked.

I forgot to take my meds today,
Still, the clock ticks.
The loneliness spreads today,
Still, the clock ticks.

I'll breathe my last breath someday,
Still, the clock will tick.
We'll all meet with death someday,
Still, the clock will tick.

and tick. and tick.

(b.m.)


#3

The clock ticks 86,400 times per day.
It's been two years since you left without saying
goodbye,
and not one tick has brought me closer to feeling
whole again.

(b.m.)

The Climb

I've dug myself a monstrous hole,

Out of which I cannot climb.

The deeper I go, the darker my soul,

I fear I haven't much time. 

The light is moving further away,

As I reach my hands in vain.

I kick and scream for some delay,

But I'm met with only pain.

Void of hope, I fall to my knees,

And touch my hands to pray.

Desperate to put my mind at ease,

To whom, I know not, I say:

I've lived my life as best I could, kind to those I've crossed.

Saving animals as Irwin would, no matter the risk (or cost).

I hope when people think of me, they remember only the best.

If only but a smiling Bri, as bright as lemon zest.

My love for you will never fade, wherever this journey ends.

There's nothing I would ever trade, in place of family and friends.

The light above is all but gone, I've used up all my time.

Someday soon will come the dawn, and out of this hole I'll climb.

Out of this hole I'll climb.

(b.m.)

My God, I Pray

As the days grow shorter, and the nights colder;

there is something coming near.

As if my soul knows, an anxiousness grows;

'waken is a chilling fear.

The leaves begin to fall, and birds cease to call;

a darkness consumes the land.

Tired are my eyes, as loneliness arrives;

the silence I cannot stand.

Passed are the days, of warmth and rays;

in charge is now the moon.

But when she's gone, the monsters are drawn;

left empty are bodies strewn.

My mind is being lost, its price too high a cost;

heavy do thoughts of you weigh.

Betrayed was my heart, though it knew from the start;

never do loved ones stay.

Buried are words unsaid, fated as those now dead;

regret is the devil's delight.

 Before I die I hope to confess, the feelings I so cruelly suppress;

my God I pray to survive the night.

My God, I pray.

(b.m.)

Puzzle Pieces

It's three in the morning. The moonlight dances through the bathroom window, illuminating a tear-stained face through the darkness. Between the sobs sings a chorus of crickets and the bone-chilling "creeeek" of trees bellowing in the wind. I rest on my knees, and the chilled, ivory-colored tile kisses my skin, sending chills throughout my body. My destructive thoughts guided me here from the comfort of my bed like an insect beckoned to a light, and I am reduced to a hunched over figure on a cold bathroom floor.

I wrack my brain, blindly searching for answers among the sea of negativity being spewed from my consciousness. It turns a cold shoulder, and to no avail I am left hopelessly seeking guidance. A calming of the storm inside my head. And so I try my luck with a higher power. I plead to God, whispering my woes into the night. I say, with utter desperation, "God, please, help me to understand my purpose for this life. I feel that I have strayed from the path I once was on, and fear I have lost sight of where it is I should be heading. I feel as though I am now wandering, weakened and alone, through a maze with which there is no exit. One in which I've reached yet another dead end. Help me to understand..."

Moments later, an autumn breeze creeps through the slightly cracked window, and with it, carries in a soothing voice that caresses my ears. It says, softly, "My child, you wish to reach the finish line when you've barely just begun the race. Put simply, life is like a puzzle: as you learn, grow, and experience new aspects of life, you will collect pieces of yourself along the way. By themselves, these pieces are insignificant, failing to shed light on what it is you're looking to find. Slowly, but surely, they start to come together, piece-by-piece. By the end of your life, you will have a moment where you'll have the final piece, the one that fits just right, filling the last empty space. It's then that you will see it. You will see that every single moment of your life has created just that: a life. Every decision you make will guide you to where you wish to go, and so you are never truly lost...only on your way to discovering the next puzzle piece. You simply need the courage, and the patience, to finish it."

Just as it had traveled in, the voice faded away with the breeze, surely off to console some other sad soul praying for an answer to their own questions. A sudden stillness washed over me as I left the numbing tile and climbed back into the warmth of my bed. For the first time in as far back as I can remember, I am lulled into a peaceful sleep, comforted with the belief of surviving the day to come, and every one to follow.

Someday I will complete the puzzle...

Someday.

(b.m.)

Within

When we were little, 

we feared the monsters
hiding beneath our beds, 

keeping our feet tucked in
so they couldn't drag us under.

Now, 

it's not the monsters
under the bed we fear 

when staring into the
darkness...

It's the ones inside of us.

.

.

.

How do we protect ourselves
from them?

(b.m.)

But,

A galaxy full of stars,
    each shining an
eternal light.
    But,
how lonely is Mars,
    surrounded by
eternal night.

A planet full of souls,
    each thriving on
the highs of life.
    But,
how gaping are holes,
    created by
the lows of life.

A body full of cells,
    each unique to
my very self.
    But,
how sadness dwells,
    a burden on
my very health.

(b.m.)

Reflected

I stumbled upon this empty shell,

as I walked along the river.

Maybe it was the decaying smell,

that made my body shiver.

Something about it drew me near,

as I ventured beyond the trail.

Maybe it was the feeling of drear,

that made my skin go pale. 

Most beguiling was this ivory stone,

as my eyes became transfixed.

Maybe it was the stark white bone,

that made me so affixed.

I soon realized the connection,

as my chest welled up inside.

Maybe it's my own reflection,

that this empty shell implied.

-b.m.

Fleeting

I wish I could freeze a moment in time. Bottle up its essence. Revisit it at times when I feel life is too much to handle. When life seems like a never ending storm cloud. That moment, bottled up, would be like the sunshine peaking through. A reminder that even on the darkest of days, there is still light hidden underneath, waiting patiently to illuminate the sky.

But life is not all sunshine and rainbows.

These moments are so fleeting. So temporary. Once they're gone, we can't get them back. We can take pictures or videos, sure. They will live on as memories that we can look back on. But we will never be able to truly relive that utter happiness we had in our hearts that day, or the gut-wrenching laughter that poured out of us so effortlessly and uncontrollably as if nothing else in the world mattered. People change. Life moves on. That's the way it is. And once we're at the end of the road, greeting death as a forgotten friend we've been meaning to catch up with, we'll reflect on those moments we held onto so dearly. How precious they were. How fleeting the were.

How fucking fleeting they are.

-b.m.

Deep Down

It feels as though I'm deep under water, swimming to the surface, but

never

truly

reaching

the

air

.

.

.

that's what depression feels like

-b.m.

Thin Layer

Human life is such a fragile thing. A thin layer of skin lies between the outside world and our beating heart and breathing lungs and brittle bones. Filled with icy blue liquid that turns scarlet when it gets a taste of the stale air, as if in shock. Some veins are visible, pulsing with rhythmic elegance so poetic no pen nor paper on earth could condense it to mortal words.

Such a fragile thing.

A slip of a knife.
One too many pills.
A breath under water.
A broken heart.

Such a fragile thing.

Life.

And it hangs on such a thin thread. That threshold between life and death. Between breathing and being still. Between light and dark. Between being and having been. The craziest part? We have the power. The power to end it all. But we choose to continue on. The bravest thing anyone can possibly do. To get up every single morning and try. Try so damn hard. That's all we can really do, is try. Because there is no one on this earth that is winning at life. There is no peak existence. There is only making it to the end, when you've done all that you could do in a lifetime and have no more left to give to the world. That is when you have succeeded. So for now, just keep waking up in the morning. Keep making the most of what you can and striving for what it is you were put on this earth to do. Keep choosing life.

Keep living, moths. xoxo 

Brewing

Something is stirring from deep within;

My hands are shaking.

My body is quaking.

A storm is brewing beneath my skin.

Like a dormant volcano inactive for years;

The pressure is building.

The air is chilling.

Threatening to erupt are my deepest fears.

The explosion, by nature, is cruel and relentless;

The screams are shattering.

The tremors are battering.

The victim, my spirit, is weak and defenseless. 

The screaming hushes and the shaking stills;

My soul is hollowed.

Then darkness follows.

Hauntingly silent, my loneliness kills.

Back to dormancy, I quiet once more;

The smoke clears.

Dried are the tears.

How long it will last, I cannot be sure.

I cannot be sure.

-b.m.