Situations 8

Page 47

LOST IN ME Sick in the soul, I just don’t know how to behold the end of

Sensations, emotions, responsibilities—all fading away,

the world that I’ve known. Ailing of mind, in a desert waste-

while I sit back and watch my tortured life go by, day by

land called Life. I’m consumed by hostile winds cutting

day. Give me a few moments, a few moments are all I need

through my being.

to slip a cigar through my fingers and insert the green. So high, so high I can reach the sky. But each time I fly, a part

UNTITLED (1)

Dragging my carcass through a tortured existence—

of me dies—for getting high is a chemical lie. But where’s

spaced, alienated. Dwelling among lost and lifeless souls

my chance for a pleasurable piece of the American pie? It’s

that soothe my hopeless heart. My self-loathing intensified,

getting stronger, the feelings are staying longer, and I’m

hateful and distraught feelings are constant companions. I

blinking out of existence like a candle in early morning.

have lost grip on reality—twisted and pulled.

Laying under a grave, no longer wanting this life. But why is it so hard for me, why must I fight? When you say H.I.V.,

I am weak, the hunted, my very existence has been raped

what do that mean for me now, am I worth loving still or do

and polluted—show me death and I’ll salute it. My days are

I pass without a sound?

Then he said to me, them dreams will never come

He entices me, stimulating me mentally and giving me

counting down. Life drains from me as blood from a wound;

true—try these pleasures, this anger, this drug, this loot.

everything that I think should be mine, but shouldn’t I be

I’m dying but never too soon. So much pain there, nothing

Who cares for the down and out, who cares I say? Why

Bound to salute this demon within me, I’m shackled in

righteous sometime? Being so nice to me—can I trust

to retain. I can’t let go because I need my pain…to feel and

should anyone, isn’t that the American way? Who has the

thought—no reasons, no faults. Yearning for that next

him at all? I’m drugged with desire, like I’m overdosed

maintain, to see if I’m still alive. I need my anger by my side.

right to fuck my shit up but me, who can tell me who I was

high, that rush, looking always for what I can never sup-

on Tylenol. But I need him to get to that place. The Key

I’m growing numb. I’m seeing dark—the lights are lowering.

myself? Don’t dare say you got love for a brother, because

ply. I think I’m in trouble. I’m falling, then I’m saved; he

Master can always have his place—by my side, every

I am in a box. Is there any of me left? Or am I near death?

if I don’t love who I am, then I do not love anyone else!

always has my back—I can sin all day, and murder, and

night. Get me high. I want to fly. To the end—but

My thoughts are possessed by lust and sadness—doubt,

rob myself—my spirit, my mind—masking out with a

where’s that? I don’t care; I need smack. I’m in danger;

anger, and rage—I’m driven into madness. I’m a push-

I struggle internally to unlock the powers of joy, but the

I’ve lost to this demon. Now he’s the boss. I want to

button figure; I can’t regain control. The room is spinning;

harder I fight, the deeper my void. How do I recover from a

escape. I want to die. But do me a favor—get me high.

my despair is on patrol. I can’t move. My eyes are seeing

shattered state? Day by day, they say, but I can see no

red and my limbs are dead.

other way. In a dark place of utter fright I fight, while sur-

vengeance the moon, the day, the sun, the time. He had my mind intertwined with his wicked state of

ever meant to be? Who can hate me more than I hate

rounded by love and still unable to see the light. I’m all

crime—he’s my boy, my next-of-kin; he’ll be there to tell

There’s no saving you—you’re like me, I say. Deranged,

you there’s room for sin. High on destruction, high on

no doubt strange, with no power to maintain. You com-

pain, I don’t know where I am, not even my name. What

plete my life’s work—you, your people, even your man,

the right to take away my world; am I the only one or do he

about harm reduction—now what’s that? This isn’t a

Cain. Your mind, your soul will never remain, for your

put the moves on his baby girl? I can feel the beat of my

I can’t take it anymore; I’m about to scream—like in one of

game; now that’s insane! You need me to endure—you

brain will never accept anything but my pain. I aim to

heart viciously thumping through my body like a beacon in

those Hollywood dramatic movie scenes: when people are

need not stay pure. For within my kingdom, there’s no

destroy you mentally and remove you certainly from the

the dark. What am I going through? What’s happening to

getting ready to die and try to shout, fear gets the best of

such thing as a cure, or promise, or strength and ambi-

kingdom of bliss. I pour suffering and danger down on

my world? Whose life am I living? I am in a whirl.

them and brings the inevitable end about. Oh lord, where

tion. Give me one day and you’ll start wishing for pain,

you and you’ll assent. Are you stupid? Couldn’t you tell?

to die, to get high and comply with my demons for as

I’m that demon within you. Welcome to Hell.

long as you can stand. You need to wake up, because

John Benknockee

I’m the man!

When you say H.I.V., what do that mean? Do I just lie down

alone. The dead call out to me, the dying are pushing me;

and die, or does death stalk me like a fiend? Who gave him

my life is a blur, like my unforeseen destiny.

are you? Are you within sight? My soul needs touching, my Is there’s an answer out there—does anyone know? I say,

heart needs your might. I’ve held on; holding on for too

don’t hold back—let it flow! I’m in mental bondage, carry-

long. Searching for a true path with a spirit that is only half.

ing an endless pit of disappointment on my back and

Incomplete, false—help me lord, for I am lost.

instead of cutting my chains, I polish them with misguided pride and a fat sack of smack. How much easier things

John Benknockee

become, how light and heavenly I feel. With some of the most intense pleasure, is this for real, even worth my bill? With no worries, pains, suffering or regret, give me three fat blunts and my day is set.

Situations

46

Situations

47


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Articles inside

Poems by Dawn McKnight

1min
page 55

Poems by David DeSilva

1min
page 54

Poems by Matteo N. Delgrosso

2min
pages 51-53

Poem by Eric D. Miller and Sean Evans

1min
page 50

Poems by Eric D. Miller

1min
page 49

Poems by John Benknockee

5min
pages 47-48

Poems by Gene A. Barclay

3min
pages 39-40

Poems by Sherry P

3min
pages 36-38

Poems by Ivey Cherry

1min
pages 33-34

Poems by Shurland H. Aird

3min
pages 30-32

Poem by Kent Jackson

1min
page 35

Poems by Bobby Weekfall

1min
page 29

Poems by Diane Dawson

4min
pages 22-24

Poems by Theresa Ilardi

4min
pages 12-14

Poems by Iris Elizabeth Sankey

3min
pages 15-17

Poems by Ruth Bryant

3min
pages 25-28

Poems by Luther Jarman

2min
pages 6-8

Poems by Sindy Scott-Jenkins

2min
pages 9-11

Poems by Michael L. Snead

3min
pages 20-21

Poems by Lorenzo Murphy

2min
pages 18-19
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