cyclone roller coaster ride
Photo by Tim Gouw on

I feel as if my life is cascading.

It feels like this.

I decide to ride a rollercoaster.

Nervous but excited I wait.

The waiting seems endless.

One step at a time.

I get in the rollercoaster.

In the distance I hear a muffled voice giving vague information about this ride.

It takes off.

At first it makes me feel alive.

The fear over comes me.

Everything is a blurr.

I cannot seem to make out what’s going on.

Then the rollercoaster slows down.

Change is never a good thing I fear.

Slowly I’m getting pulled to the top of this man-made mechanical mountian.

If something misfires it could send me falling trapped in a locked metal box.

I plumit down.

Loops everywhere I look.

I’m up.

I’m down.

I’m inside out.

I have no control of what’s going on.

It’s all happening at once.

And yet, for the life of me…

I can’t hold on.





This human is vulnerable.

Someone wrecked the wall and with the knife they had penetrated my heart.

Circulation is rationed at the moment.

With the lack of blood in the brain my amygdala is misfiring leaving me emotionally unstable.

I am not a danger to others including myself.

This is what it feels like.

If I had to describe it at this particular moment.

Keeping in mind the circumstances are unstable.

This is what it’s like.

I wake up in a dark alley.

I have the mentality of an eight-year-old.

It’s completely quiet.

That scares me.

I start walking.

The wind blows.

The noise terrifies me.

I’m in tears.

I walk for hours.

But I am nowhere close to being home.

I don’t know where I am.

I am scared.

I am walking barefoot.

I don’t know why, don’t ask me.

I finally make it home.

I see my parents but they ignore me.

I start yelling, “Mom Dad I’m home.”

I reach for a hug but they do not reach back.

They don’t even acknowledge my presence.

I beg and plead and throw a tantrum.

Silence Echoes back in the distance.

After some time I come to figure out I’m a big girl who does not need protection from them. Feeling in uncomfortable pressure of it’s okay.

Some lie I try to stomach.

I blink my eyes and I returned back into the dark alley with an 8 year old mentality.

And then nightmare starts all over in the dark alley.

The estimation of the wall being rebuilt is currently up for bid as we speak.

An average person

road landscape nature forest
Photo by veeterzy on

I don’t want to be like this but I am too afraid to change this individual I’ve become.
So I put my left foot in my pants, then my right.
Put on the greyish shirt I can find.
It feels secure.
I live a grey life.
Sometimes it goes blurry slowly fading away.
Go to work.
Continuing living this mudaine life l live.
In denial to accept it is true.
Get angry at no apparent reason.
Bottle it in because everyone has issues.
No need to burden those I love.
Keep going toward life.
In a tunnle that spins. I can’t see the end.
What I see is darkness with an occasional spark of light.
Till I can’t go no longer go forward.
I explode or I find a device that destroys me.
Or turn to the holey book.
Live the rest of my life In a prayer.
Knowing happiness is in another life.
But that won’t suit me.
As l mentioned earlier I am too afraid to change.

Cursed by Birth

red and blue hot air balloon floating on air on body of water during night time
Photo by Bess Hamiti on

I’m cursed by birth, don’t you see?

I never asked to be me.

I never asked to be birthed.

I never asked to grow.

I never asked to die.

It doesn’t matter, because once you’re born you’re destined for death.

That’s the only consistency I see.

I didn’t ask for any of this, neither did you.

It’s kind of sad to see what this world has become; by things that start like the choice of  birthing.

A woman has a right to choose, but the baby has no say.

And anyway it doesn’t matter if it’s alive or aborted with no choice.

We do have a choice within this realm of life we see.

We can have the choice to die by our hands, or by other hands.

But I wouldn’t consider that a choice.

We could better ourselves overtime, and kill the things we hate about ourselves.

Just being in a new way a sense of a new life.

Or we could find some meaning  into this life.

Or we can just sell plants in the gardening section at Home Depot. If there isn’t a point in life why should we overthink it?

For some reason…

For some people like myself I like to self deprecate.

I don’t really mind doing it; it has a sense of a settling feeling.

Maybe it’s because I don’t know who I am.

Just like I don’t know the meaning behind this poem.

People Watching


Sad faces surpass me.

They go on a plane to who knows where?

Mostly vendors.

I have grown to see a lot of them.

Always travelling.

Sounds fun.

But that light.

That light you can see in someones eyes..?

Has been blown out.

There is not enough free miles to rekindle that light.

Always in the air.

Thousands of miles away from family they grow old.

And distant.

Till they don’t even know who they live with  anymore.

Money controls some people’s actions.

Later down the road…

They get laid off.

All the whiskey in the world won’t fix this mistake.