All I can give are these few words written here
Uncovering part of my life hoping to clear
Being left behind wrestling with my old fears
The same unspoken problems behind my tears
No molds or experience just an empty void
Tripping over my cold darkened thoughts yet a boy
Being held backward or worst yet pushed through destroyed
Reliving parts of my life no longer being toyed
The mirrored web cracked splintering some of my sins
While I tip toe on eggshells, needles and pins
Hoping today the rest of my life begins
Opening the locked doors that are held tight within
© 2014 Michael Yost 04/05
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, betrayal, Consequences, Cracked Egg Shells, Depression, Drugs, Fear, God, Health, Locked Doors, Lonliness, Love, Mental Health, Michael Yost, Mirror, Needles and Pins, Nightmares, PTSD, Sins, sleep, Uncovering
Who is that man in the mirror?
Is he the one I used to know?
The boy with brown curly hair and
Faded freckles. There’s the hazel eyes.
Is that all that can be seen now?
How ironic is that; green eyes?
The nose was broken then and now.
Now the faded memories come forth.
The pictures are long gone now.
I can only piece the puzzle and
The man in the mirror forgot.
Not remembering what was then.
© 2012 Michael Yost 06/10
How bright the spring morning shined
Clearing the dark dreams from my mind
Washing the sleeper’s crust from my eyes
Looking deep into the mirror for an ally
Solutions in the balance thumbs confused
One over the other leaves two bruised
Eventually time will betray my masquerade
And my fear is both will fade away
© 2012 Michael Yost 4/30
The ebony wall pushing me from behind
The wall and my back are locked, intertwined
Heels almost dragged under as it goes
My gaunt eyes staring forward, froze
Ahead at the white line past my nose
I count on my fingers all my past woes
Shoulders pushed forward with my head hanging low
Cursing it’s not my fault, I’m predisposed
Awake in my apartment the line’s on the mirror
I take what’s there to make my mind clearer
The dream starts over being pushed from behind
My head and the white line are intertwined
© 2011 Michael Yost
The elusive line fails and slips through the net
The failure appears to be at the writer’s regret
Perfection comes when the fingers are left to fly
Instead of writing one line and then waiting for the sky
So let go your fingers and the verse will appear
Galloping through the trail of your warm tears
Not stopping to take the time to back up and read
Push on towards ending on your golden steed
The treasure awaits and you draw ever near
Wait don’t pull up short you’re nearly facing your fears
Softly approaching your mind never clearer
You smile whispering to yourself standing in front of the mirror
© 2011 Michael Yost
It’s a reverse mirror showing the real you.
Are you outside looking in or inside looking out?
Your nose is turned in the opposite direction.
Your forehead wrinkles slant the other way.
Speaking, the words seem to have a new control over your lips.
You listen differently too, the words sound recorded.
Everything you are used to is suddenly, Used Too;
Which one now is really the evil twin?
©2011 Michael Yost
thursdaypoetsrallypoetry.blogspot.com Week 42