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Outside Teardrops
Author: Ayshia Stephenson
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Outside Teardrops
I feel outside my body
outside my mind
outside my soul
at first the rain fell
and I felt like falling with its drops
and I felt so caught up in the moment --
like a stranger hearing God cry
and then I felt strangely at ease
and strangely content
sitting hear next to the window, I feel almost
immune to the cold air
trapped inside -- I am numb
those thoughts of crossing the stream
from this bitter extreme
to a place that satisfies my needs
is my only comfort
leaving behind the nightmare
and the thunderous rain
leaving behind the time when fury reigned
and ceased to hear the pleads of liberty
coming from his ill prisoners
I feel like crying with God
like tasting the salt of his tears
like feeling the loss of all this weight
voices came and went into the darkness of the night
I am alone in my thoughts
alone in this house
alone hearing the rain as it drops against the homes near bye
it almost sounds angry
I won’t be here for long watching the rain
I won’t be here for long only hearing its anger
instead of its peace
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The Dark
Author: Ayshia_Stephenson
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The Dark
Clouds pulling the light away
turning us into walking shadows
the night colors life unseen
delicious desire seeks the unknown
soft crying goes unheard
as do tender whispers of affection
where is the hope for humanity
when the sky is buried alive
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The Way to Hell
Author: Ayshia Stephenson
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The Way to Hell
secretive silence chose tomorrow to burden
the soul lies to live in peace
but guilt will not stay a part of nightmares forever
and it leaks poison into your conscious
and wrinkles those dreams of ever forgetting
on that day, your nightmares will awake,
only to look back at you in the bathroom mirror
and you'll plead for its shatter with ponds of teardrops
or beg for its forgiveness with words of catholic church prayers
throbbing in your head
or bleed with anger, by destroying its wholeness
staring at pieces of broken memories lying on the floor
your body is cold
and your fingers are numb
but no windows left unclosed
no ghost to cause fright
you've only looked at yourself
so you'll put on your clothes
comfortable enough to allow the cycle to continue
on the train, on your mind
you'll question life in hell
"are there no peepholes of happiness?"
"no career or social life as a means to escape?"
"will I be forced to stare at that damn mirror
every single day?"
in your heart, you know you'll be stuck there forever
in a room with an endless amount of mirrors
every one reflecting your face
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