Sleep eats my hours
Devours my moments
I awaken to find
Years and years
Were sacrificed
Lost to sleep.
Lost in a fog
Of numbness
I hide myself
Inside each day
Veiled by darkness
I embrace each night.
Tag: depression
Lost
Sometimes I get lost inside my own mind
My body becomes just a shell
I forget who I am and where I wanted to go
I know it’s awful for you to watch me
Trapped inside myself, my blackness is hell.
My mind and my heart feel empty
With echoes of the past all that I can hear
I don’t mean to leave you to sit alone
But sometimes I’m just not here.
I don’t know where I go, yet it feels familiar.
I close my eyes and I fall down into sleep
Waves of calm wash through my bones, my mind
There. Now I don’t have to decide, feel or think.
I know I was broken, brain, soul and spirit
And there is no extra sticky glue
No modern pill or magic potion
That could bring me back,
Mended, to you.
If only I had known how sad
Together would turn out to be,
After you cut open my heart,
I would have walked away
And one of us would have been free.
by Jeanne Marie
Letting me down gently…
Letting me down gently…
Turn on the light!
Most often…
When you think
I have forgotten
about you…
When your phone
doesn’t ring
when your text
doesn’t flash
when I’m not posting
any PINK Bling…
That’s when I’m
thinking of you
most often.
As I wander
through my flowers
flitting around
just a blue
butterfly orphan,
my only
nourishment
the flowers I walk in…
That’s when I’m
thinking of you
most often.
Jeanne Marie, 2014
and
Seashells and Shadows
A shadow of herself
is all that remains
just a glimmer
of the woman
who she
coulda
woulda
shoulda
been.
A shadow of herself
walks on the shore
collecting seashells
seashells
she doesn’t
want
to collect
to touch
to hold
anymore.
She Was
She Was
The grief encompassed her soul until the elements of her former self were nothing.
Nothing.
Destiny squeezed her guts until she splattered all over the floor.
She was, she was, but now she isn’t, not anymore.
Wait.
Amidst the wreckage of her shattered, twisted dreams perchance a gem remains?
A shred of what was, a stair to climb on, a hand to reach beyond her agony,
clutching what still could be?
Carefully, small slivers extracted of what value they weren’t sure
held up to the light by white coats who thought they knew the cure,
the cure for secrets that had hammered her to her knees
events which paralyzed the frightened child she was before.
Men and women who only added their putrid slime to the illness
then when her hour was up they shoved her through the door.
That of course was just good business, nothing’s free,
no matter how she did implore.
Secrets torn asunder, gaping holes dripping vulnerability,
not unlike her veins the night she’d gashed them open wide.
The dirt, the filth, the grotesque, no longer could she hide.
Naked, restrained, unfamiliar shocked eyes did see and several faces
as familiar as her own beheld the tragedy.
But surely they could have done without, her agonizing screams, her blood, her shouts?
“You have no f…… right, let me die,” she’d screamed that night until no voice remained.
Perhaps that was true, yet they had to consider the fact that she was quite insane.
What else could they do, what else would have been right?
So, they saved her anyway, forced her to breathe another day.
Clothed in anguish and shades of gray, doomed to inhere, she haunts the nights,
a ghost of the woman before, who was, who isn’t, not anymore.
Spirit lacerated, black with pain, red with rage, you would not recognize her aura.
A kaleidoscope of mistrust and betrayal determines her movements.
Such a thin line between yesterday’s grief and hope’s beckoning tomorrow.
One baby step at a time she forges a reality where wounds are but the mortar
between her bricks and angels guard her entrance from Knights in Dirty Leather.
This saddened woman who holds within her a tiny, unhealed girl
this woman who endures the anguish her ignorance invited into her world.
Coloring innocent lives with confusion and bereavement evermore.
She was, she was, but now she isn’t, not anymore.
by Jeanne Marie, 1989
Wet
Tears drops splashed on
my smart phone today
My smart phone remained silent
It didn’t have a word to say.
The thin ice
I walk upon
Has begun to crack
I don’t care. I keep on.
If I am submerged
I won’t float back.
Under the ice
escape will allude me
I will drift away from
The hole I fell through
I will not struggle as
my lungs fill with water
my heart washed of you.
Jeanne Marie
Verbal Abuse I Say
I can’t be anyone but me.
I can’t see anything
That I can’t see
Until my eyes are opened
Then I can’t look away
When you call me a bitch
I want to move so far away
When you loudly call me
F—— pathetic in Denny’s
I eat my stack of pancakes
Covered in syrup and butter
Even though I want to run home
But home is where we live
So honestly, home is no better.
As I yearn to be alone
Syrup and tears
Taste familiar together.
Where is the woman
I thought I’d be?
Where is the man
I thought you were?
The perfect couple
They always said
But if this is love
I’d rather be dead.
You say it’s my fault
When you yell
Swear and scream.
I make you so mad
That’s why you’re
Being so mean.
Verbal abuse I tell you
No, it’s not you say
With a confident smirk
Your conscious is clean.
So, when I’m gone
Will you look in the mirror
With only yourself
To be called a f——jerk?
The worst of it all
Since you ask, is
Becoming just like you
As I call you a f—— ass.
by Jeanne Marie
Crushing Me
What do I say now, when there’s nothing left?
When I’m gone what will you remember about me?
Will you remember all of my mistakes?
Or will you remember the things I tried to be?
Will you remember the times I held you close?
Or just the times I failed to make the grade?
Will you remember the times our world turned upside down
Allowing black clouds to fog my brain?
Oh God, for love, the price I’ve paid.
Will you remember when I danced in the rain
My arms spread wide up to the clouds or
Will you be left with the times
our love brought you pain?
Looking back across the years
I recall the smiles, but I taste the tears.
So many wrong choices, how could I know
That the pain would go on forever
And that the dying would be so slow?
I see loved ones who have passed on
And I wonder what they think of me.
Do I disappoint them?
Or are they waiting arms open wide?
They say God doesn’t give you more than you can handle
So where did this crushing mountain of grief come from?
And who the f… are they, the invisible ones who say?
How do I start over when there’s nothing left
But regret, remorse, pain, pain, pain and more pain?
Surely, I will die soon enough. I know we all do.
But can I last that long?
How, when I can’t even breathe
With this mountain of pain crushing me, burying me alive?
Will you remember how you always corrected me
As if I were a child who didn’t know her own mind
Until it became true?
Will you remember me loving you?
by Jeanne Marie
Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 
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