New Poem: Beating The Beat

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On the subject of being in a funk: sometimes it just takes staring that depression beast in the face. Sometimes the uncomfortable memories can keep you alive if you don’t deny them, if you turn them into motive, if you remind yourself that they don’t have to rule you.

Beating the Beat

I hear from your lips
all the rationales
that once bounced in my skull
insistent little buggers
that only appeal
to a mind so addled
it wants to drive right off the cliff

The echoes bruise to the bone
an ache persistent and cruel
and maybe just a little necessary
a flashing light
a red alert
a reminder of where I have been
and fear
dread
and once in a while
hope
to go

I listen to every syllable
including those not uttered
especially those not uttered
fighting the urge to cover my ears
fighting the need to hate you
for me hating myself
turning that percussion into motion

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