Soul Searching


I’m searching for pieces of my soul.

I lost them over time.

I did not want my soul for a time being.

I did not like the sad feelings it felt.

That hole in my chest was okay.

I could deal with that.

But you see.

When your soul is missing, your feelings of happiness, joy, regret, sadness, and etc are gone also.

The things that use to matter do not anymore.

You feel numb.

It’s a lonely feeling.

Something is just not right and that’s what you feel.

I’m on a mission to find the rest of my soul.

I say a prayer

“Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy Kingdom come, Thy will”…

I stop.

I don’t believe in this.

So I meditate.

In a field of hay and one tree I lay.

Breathe in and out long breaths.

I feel the wind in my safe place.

I put a hand on my chest.

No beat echoes back.

Maybe there is something wrong with me.

That maybe it’s really there and we are distant relatives.

I throw a message in a bottle into my heart.

Hoping it reaches my soul in enough time.

Before it’s to late and this blackhole consumes me.


Holiday Times


Years ago…

Is a flashback of a child’s Christmas time.

Year after year.

A child’s first strike to hating Christmas was when the father the child hasn’t seen came to the child’s house Christmas eve. Just to leave after fighting with the child’s mother.

Addiction kept the father away. Mother’s depression kept father away.

So the child grew up away at a distance.

A few years later the child would lose a close family member around Christmas. That would scar the child’s outlook to Christmas.

Another few years later as a teenager the child would live with its mother in a improvised apartment. Where the roaches were the child’s only company.

Again on Christmas eve a drug addict would break the window of the child’s home trying to run from law enforcement.

And with the child’s distorted eyes…

That became the real eyes of the adult who grew up.

A few years toward to present day…

With the abundance of love the adult is around.

Maybe it to could learn to love Christmas again.

The adult will never feel the same happiness as a child does for Christmas.

But maybe contentment and stability is all the adult needs.

Maybe the adult’ s heart grew in size over the years being surrounded by love.





I am.

I am

One tragedy.

One tragedy away from being


Destroyed from.

From everything that exists.

Exists to the molecular definition that inhabits myself identity.

Just one more action.

The seam is unraveling.

Stuffing is bulging out.

Please don’t come near.

Leave me be in fear.

This will be the place I adore

When I’ve lost all self control.

Who’s to say that this isn’t me.

I road a butterfly.

And this is the effect from the result of my actions.

One more tragedy I swear

Will be the death of me.

My white flag is waving in the air

Let there be peace from war

Because I cannot be here once more.


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.