Secrets

For some background, I wrote this poem as an emotional response to the relationship abuse I’d endured for several years of my life. During those many hard and trying years, I felt trapped and I sincerely thought that I would never escape. But fortune favored me and with the help of friends and family I was able to leave those dangerous situations. And now I present to you….Secrets.

secrets

I am the fire built within
I am your rage beneath the skin
Every breath I heave
Is a song you sing in silence.
I am unknown to strange minds
I am a voice inside your own
The same desperate message
Driving on relentlessly
Until it resonates as the truth

I’ll burn the boundaries of your world
Reality is but obscurity
To which consequences fall asunder.
You exist within the inner landscapes
Entangled in my rage, my frustration and desire.
I desire to escape
Yet you question
You are the cage and I the inferno.

I want to tear your skin apart
Cut a split in your cocoon
And burn it; together
We shall harness the bomb on our fingertips
To bring down the past; together
We bare our teeth in defiance
Howling for the great darkness within
And wonder if the gods dare to listen

You want my fire to consume their hands
Even the score, erase the past…

Our secret is no longer.
.
.
.
© Siobhan Marie Hurd 2010

 

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Night and Water

moon

Clouds drift, east against
the backdrop of the crescent moon.

Illuminated, like
black ink through water.

The western sky, weighty
with storm caps.

Lightning flickers from
behind; fireflies and light-switches.

False moments of daybreak; a pastel
snapshot of tomorrow.

Then stillness; calm before
the rapture’s flush

Earth drowned; water
and mist.

© The Eyes of Seraphim

Paranoia

paranoia
picture source

 

Scattered thoughts like birds
Anxious and rabid
Etch their songs across the corners
Tittering madly
Rocking back and forth

Tick tick tick goes the clock…must be a good girl…
Tic tic tic goes my neck…must not be a stupid girl…

Voices and fingernails leave trenches along
the flesh of my human soul
Deep wells in the sand that are hard to fill
except for the madness
Gnawing away

Why do you hate me??
I’m not hiding….I’m not hiding…I’m not hiding…

I’m afraid that he still loves she
That I am replaceable just
like I was before. Replaceable
And that this is all a lie
You’re the lie

One two three…does he still love she?
One two three…everyone is better than me.

I hear them whispering
through the walls
They hate me; they all hate me
Do it they say
Do it…

Shut your eyes, hold your breath…
Fade away to nothingness

Hold your heart, watch it die…
Its been broken by a lullaby 

© The Eyes of Seraphim 2016

 

The Fens of the Sea

waterpicture source

The sea thunders inside my head
Seagulls screech behind my eyes

I stare into the foggy waves and wonder
I wonder…

Water crashes against earth
Salt spray entangles my hair

I listen to the roar of the ocean and wander
I wander…

The brine licks my white fingertips
And catches me fast in a bitter embrace

I feel the weight of the sea above me and I wait
I wait…

Falling beneath and in between
The gentle sands cradle my head

I see the sun shimmering above and I watch
I watch…

Ice and fire captivate my lungs
My vision blurs out the sun

I descend into the fens of the sea and I wallow
I wallow…

And I remain…

© The Eyes of Seraphim 2016

Why?

Domestic violence victim

That crucifix of yours
Rough covered and sharp
Made with prejudice and a harsh tongue
Unwavering
Rigid
Alone in its thoughtless dust

Then you took my hand
And held it firm to the cross
I walked away riddled in splinters
“That’s love” you would say
You even assured me that our bond was holy
But the pain made me question my faith

When the roses began to wilt
And the thorns grew longer
My quiet heart was trapped
Beating against me as it tried to grow

Until I was bleeding
It was then that I realized
You used my faith against me
Pricked my fingers and called it love
Yet I remained
And now I wonder

Why?

Stillborn

graveyard

Once I was my own demise; a starving cheek kissed by fate
I sat alone in a garden of syringes and saints
Waiting for someone to find me

A shadowed stranger with a crucifix for my tainted heart
A man masked with a mirror and a butterfly stare
Came to purge my sins

The transcendent petals wept from the cherry blossom
They shed their tears for me as I sewed shut my life
For I have no pearls nor perfect deeds

I’m still living…
I’m still breathing…
This heart keeps beating…
But there is no feeling…

I am nothing but a poppet animated by my grief
Frail; my body is a hoodoo doll of holes and hollows
Awaiting a dark embrace

Stolen from myself by a perfect fallen angel; black with lies
I lost my heart for a chance to see the truth
And so i sit plucking out the thorns of deceit

I waste away in this graveyard garden; void and silently staring
Waiting for that shadowed stranger with a four cornered knife
To break this spell of death

I’m still living…
I’m still breathing…
This heart keeps beating…
But there is no feeling…

My Predetermined Suicide

“A pill to make you numb, a pill to make you dumb…
A pill to make you anybody else…
But all the drugs in this world won’t save her from herself…”

I was flipping through my burn book this afternoon with my boyfriend. I’ve never come that close to sharing the contents of this book with anyone. No one has ever read my black book before. You here on the internet are the only ones I have shared anything with in regards to that. However, in the interest of trust in the relationship between boyfriend and I, I want to show him the entire journal. But its so hard! In the past I considered burning the damn things, hence the title burn book. But, I can’t. Its like one of my horcruxes. It’s a part of me and if I destroy it I’ll be destroying what has come to define me, my past and my madness.

So in short, I haven’t shown boyfriend everything of the book’s entirety just yet, that’s something I’m not ready to do at this point in time. Even though I want to, the thought makes me panic because there is that air of uncertainty. What is he going to think? Will it help him understand me or will I just make him sad? I don’t want to make him sad or upset.

I found another poem in the burn book that I wrote back in July of 2005. It may sound completely cheesy now, but at the time it expressed my concrete desire to kill myself, but it also radiated that sense of apprehension. However, at the time I sincerely believed that I would die by suicide, that was how the light was going to go out. I thought it was fate. Enjoy the poem and thank you for reading everyone.

burnbookpoem1

Do you like my demon dragon?