CheezBusta

It lurks behind every corner, In every shadow, In every unspoken thought. It creeps maliciously about its business, Beats on the door, Screams at the top of its lungs. It whispers sweet nothings, Wipes the tears away, Rocks the infant to sleep. It holds unsteady hands, Nails dug in to pierce skin, Red rivers run lifeless. It distances the smiles and laughs, Mocks attempts at normalcy. The boogeyman is always hunting, Victims abound on its list; It stalks around and around and around and around… Look left or right before crossing the street, It perches across the road, Laugh gleefully as the doe caught in headlights freezes. Move

Is this certainty? The blizzard is wailing, There is no way to see. The compass is faulty, I cannot feel my hands, The wind is deafening. There seems to be no way out, No direction is more distinct, Nothing stands out. The tears freeze on my cheeks, It’s so cold. Disorientated, Confused, Yet still hopeful. I pray, The even if the blizzard never ceases, Even if it does, I pray. Pray and hope for certainty.

Deflect the blows, Be strong. Hold it together, Backing down is not an option. There are many to protect, Many to take the blow for. The opponent is relentless, The parry wholly one-sided. Bones grow weary, Limbs grow tired. The sword and shield grow heavy, The weight makes movement sluggish. The shield is bent, There is no respite. The sword is sharp, Awaiting its turn. The shield is battered, In need of repair, But the onslaught is fierce, Endless. There are no breaks, No respite. The wood splinters, A blow sneaks past the defenses. Pain erupts, But the need to press on is greater. There are loved ones to protect, Being weak is not

Scars Every harm leaves a wound. Every wound leaves a scar, And each scar has its own story. Each story can be told differently, Depending on why each scar is there. But each scar has one thing, In common. They caused pain at one point. The only difference, Is that emotional scars, Are hidden. They are hard to see, And sometimes can be told, By a smile that does not reach the eyes, By the eyes that are broken, By the tear stains. The physical scars take away the pain, By replacing the brokenness of the heart, With the broken skin. With the dance of rivers awash with red. Each one tells another story, Though shorter than the rest. Each o

The cage has been locked, For an age. So long that the padlock rusted, Fell and crumbled, And the timid creature within dared not venture. So long has this soft soul been trapped, So long has it been a prisoner. Chained within bindings of toxic love, Cruel and selfish. And yet it holds no grudge, Nor blames its captors, For its mistreatment. It forgives, The only action it knows how to perform. It forgives, Hoping that it will be accepted, Only wanting the corrupt, So see its mistake, And forgive itself. This soul has no malice, No anger, Only patience, And a willingness to care, Despite the wrongs. But it is also afraid, Afraid of bei

There are countless voices, Which have dragged me through the dirt; Voices that hurt, Cause pain of the heart, That lie. More than once I have lost sight, Quite often I have forgotten, Just what is important, What my purpose is. Despite the wrongs, Despite the mistakes, Despite the loss, I have found it again. I hear it in the wind, Whistling past and singing softly. I may not have great skills, Or talents, But I do have love. Despite being broken, I am still capable of forgiveness, Of care and love, And of trust. I am capable of giving these, And expecting nothing in return. It is not a dazzling gift, But it is my own special talent. On

The voices are there today. They don't stop—they pester. Never-ending, torturous. Why did they come today? Today was a good day. Today I felt my heart warm at the memory playing in my head, and then gone…just like that. The warmth turns into cold pain, strangling, squeezing. The voices are cruel today…maybe they came because my heart was happy? I don't know. The voices follow me everywhere today, so I don't go out. I stay in, hiding from the sun, closing the blinds away from the warmth. They don't leave when the sun disappears, like they normally would. So I go into the bathroom and look at myself under the harsh light. Maybe