She walks in the night’s shadows, soliciting customers as they pass by. There is a sadness in her eyes; a profoundly deep and troubled look, that only the streets could fathom. The years have passed by, and her once radiant beauty has turned into a weathered face, and aging body. The streets are cold and unforgiving, as it takes of her essence and leaves her destitute with no assurance of life or future happiness. She is lost in a world of drugs and alcohol as she sells herself to feed her addiction. Her heart is heavy with sorrow and her story is one of pain and turmoil. She stands under a street light and lights a cigarette. She inhales deeply and allows the nicotine to enter her lungs and invade her bloodstream. Her eyes show no emotion as she stares into the dark night. Eyes that scour blocks and alleyways for signs of imminent danger, while at the same time keeping a keen sense for potential customers as she makes her rounds on a summer night in Hunts Point. She can feel a piece of her soul leave her every time the undignified exchange takes place. After the deed is done, crumpled and dirty bills are given, while more than flesh is taken. Still, the night goes on, as shadowy figures move about on the rough and gritty streets. She seeks out other peddlers of the night to make another exchange, but this time she will pay for the euphoria she seeks; it has become a part of her now. She relies on it to make it through the night. The days wane and the nights are long. It lies dormant during the day, but it is in the night, that the streets are awakened with activity. The sordid cycle is repeated again and again; Faces disappear and are never seen again. The years fade away like leaves in the wind. Some familiar characters can still be seen walking on dark blocks, as the sound of crushed glass can be heard under foot. A look into their eyes, and the soul can be seen. In a moment’s notice their story is told.
Tag: Mental Health
-
-
In her moment of solitude she has found peace and light in her heart. The tranquility of her mind overtakes her, as her body is warmed by the feelings of love and happiness. She lifts her head to the sky to witness the glory of the heavens as she whispers a short prayer. Tears roll down her face as she releases her heavy burdens, and as the light flushes out the darkness. The yokes of iron that held her captive, and in sorrow have been broken. The hurt that she carried so long has been decimated and replaced with healing; a soothing balm of unconditional love, understanding and peace of mind has covered her. The deep scars of the past have disappeared, and the pain in her memory has been washed away. She has come home to her true self; she has recaptured her spirit; her essence is more precious than the most polished of the rarest metals and diamonds. She had always been a free spirit, but she had lost her way. Her bright light was dimmed by the people who had used her and had taken freely of her essence. Her spirit was like a trapped bird wailing in sorrow to be released into the air to fly once more, but they could never take the hope and the beauty inside of her. Her eyes have cried so many tears, and she has endured so much pain. Nights of anguish without any sleep as she sought rest, but could find only anxiety, as intrusive thoughts invaded her mind. The weariness of her body and of her mind were enough to make the angels cry. Her heart is a hidden gem and light exudes from her. No one can take of her energy any longer, for she bathes in light and her essence has overtaken her. Her spirit has been made whole again in divine healing and she is blessed. She walks in the wondrous nature of the earth with joyous laughter and her spirit is free. The sounds of the valley streams are calming as she drinks of the pure and cool water, reviving her soul once more.
-
It has taken me away. It has dragged me into deeper and darker waters. It seeks to drown me. It seeks to degrade my essence and erode my will. We have contended a long time now. Many moons have passed since that first fateful night. It has left me breathless: it has aggravated me to no end; it has drained me. It is incessant in its pursuit. I have been dragged so far out into rough waters that I can barely see the shore; it wanes in the distance. As the dusk of the twilight comes, the waters appear even darker than before. Sharks and creatures of the night sea stalk my every move; they seemingly await my ultimate end with eager intent. I have lost count of the seasons since it took me from my home. I long for the warmth and comfort of my bed. I long for normalcy and peace in my house, but my reality is suffering and pain. I have swam; I have dove the deeper depths, only for it to pull me back. It has become my captor. It has forced me to dig into the deeper depths of my soul. I have found hope there; I have found the untouched parts of me. Still the waters are cold, and they render me listless as I lethargically wade in the darkness, while looking up at a bright full moon. The stars look down upon me and seem to weep at the poignancy of my plight. My flesh has become wrinkled and hypothermia has set in. Polaris winks at me as my will fades. I will take its signal and muster the strength for one more valiant swim. I will try to break free from the chains, and hitch a ride on the wings of the angels. The waters at the shore rise, as the full moon brings in the high tide; its light reflects on the dark waters.
-
Dark thoughts engulf my being as my will grows weak; I am tired but I can’t sleep. I am hungry, but I can’t eat. My essence has been taken away from me; I no longer know who I am. Fear has infused itself in me; I have lost my identity. Anxiety has rendered me listless; it has consumed my energy. Falling and falling; In a deep pit I am falling perpetually. The sun doesn’t shine here. The moon has turned to blood. Floods of illness chase me. They want to test my resolve. Am I loved? Am I secured? I laugh with madness at the blatant absurdity of the questions that seem to follow me. It is my own thoughts that haunt me. Plaguing me day after day like a wretched virus. “Go away, go away, don’t come back another day,” I say, but they never leave. Despair has been like an unwanted friend who has overstayed his welcome. Insomnia has forced me to stay up with him because misery loves company. The lack of sleep has diminished my every step. The days wane, and I have become a creature of the night. In zombie like state, stumbling around on dark streets, seeking hope in dark corners or at least some type of slight reprieve. Other night walkers pass by as we stare at each other with eyes of melancholy. Our eyes widen and illuminate in the dark, as a trail of anguish fades behind us. We are the creatures of the night; the night walkers who convey our stories of pain with a look into the eyes, but we never speak. In silence we walk. At 4am listen closely for the faint shuffling of feet.
-
In darkness it has found me;
In deep waters it seeks to drown me;
It hides from the light
But comes back at nightTo rob me of my sleep;
In the early morning I weep;
There is no one there to hear
My misery and my fearIn my sad and darkest hours,
Alone my afflictions I bear.
A heavy cross to carry;
I seek eternal lifeI cry out to the Lord,
But suffering is my plight.
My every waking hour,
Is filled with suffering and painA horrid creature stalks me;
Insomnia is its name. -
The feelings of darkness surround me as anxiety overtakes me, and fear entraps me. It’s like invisible forces control me, as ghosts of the past haunt me. I’ve tried to break free, but they constantly taunt me. To my demise they pull me; In silence I suffer as they torment me; night and day it overtakes me. No tranquility. No peace, as they bait me. Constant insomnia. No rest; no sleep, for it awakes me. My Lord and My God, why do you forsake me? Will I survive or will it erase me? I look into the mirror, and the person looking back at me hates me. I am alone in my terror. Who will save me? It is a persistent suffering, but I fight the good fight daily. Is there any fight left in me? Maybe. I prefer when the skies are grey and rainy; I have grown accustomed to the darkness, for it has embraced me, and in that embrace it has chained me. I am now a slave to suffering, ever since that fateful night it found me. It was on a dark street in New York City, that panic first attacked me. I fought hard and valiantly, but it overtook me. It wreaked havoc on my mind, and to the core it shook me; it was strategic in the way it ambushed me, for I was unaware that it stalked me. It took my breath and to the ground it brought me; I would have cried out for help but who would understand me? I lay on the ground frozen, for it had paralyzed me. To heaven I will call once more, and hope that God hears me.
-
Lord, grant me solace. Grant me peace.
-
It was on the inside that I cried but you couldn’t see my pain. I hid it from the world. A heavy burden to carry; a seemingly perpetual cross to bear. A distinct type of pain and suffering you carry so long that it becomes a part of you. I tried many times to shake it, to deliver myself from it’s hold, but to no avail. If only you knew what I’ve been through; if only you knew my desolation and sorrow. Happiness seems to run from me, and joy seems to escape me. Many times I am told to leave it behind me; to just move on. I am asked why I can’t break free from it; why I can’t circumvent the mental despondency that can wreak havoc on one’s life. In my silence I look at them; I look through them, and I know that they could never understand the depths and levels; the intricacies, and the complexions of me. The profundity of my spirit; the torment I endure. The breadths of my very soul. They could never understand the strength it takes to endure. To survive. To live.
Many would have fallen by the wayside. Many would have lost all hope, but I am quickened by the thoughts of my grandmother, a woman who went through her own struggles and depression; a woman among women, kind and loving in all her ways. An angel to the poor and downtrodden, and a bright light in a world of darkness. I watched her in her suffering. The days and nights she wept. The prayers, and the solitude. Yet she overcame; yet she remained strong in her long-suffering; yet she held strong in her belief in God and was unshaken and resolved.
Even when her own family turned their backs she held on to her faith and remained steadfast in hope. It was her and I against the world, and even at that tender age, I was a young boy with steely eyes, and a fervor within me that I carry to this day. I may be down, but never out. On the right there might be fire, and on the left deep waters but I am never unnerved. My pain pushes me through. It forces me to either transcend or wither and die, but I am a conqueror, and I will not see myself fall. I refuse to concede; I refuse to lose.
I consider the earth and all the beauty within. The promise of tomorrow. The life within me. The lessons and life experiences that I’ve endured. My mother; my grandmother; the people in my life that were kind to me, and the people who left footprints on my heart. Those beloved ones. The ones I will never forget. The ones that loved me; the ones that I will always love. They lift me up and they give me strength. I rest in their memory; I take refuge in love and peace, strength and honor, understanding and forgiveness. I overcome. I transcend.
-
Wailing voices. Voices that cry out with anguish but are heard by few. kept in the dark in quiet suffering, where there is a seemingly bottomless pit or black hole. A place where time is suspended and reality is turned on its head. Where sorrows are increased, and heavy burdens wear on even the strongest of men. Tears have been shed here; a vast ocean of tears abound. In the distance if you look closely, a woman can be seen sobbing in that dark place underneath the shadows. Her candle is lit, but dim. She turns away quickly to hide her face. She has been there many years, trapped in misery, and in the clutches of loneliness and self-doubt. In her hiding, she wants to be seen. In her quiet sobbing, she wants to be heard.
-
Dear Lord, invigorate me, redeem me, quicken my spirit and soul. Set me on a higher plane, bless me, cause your face to shine on me, forgive me, love me, guide me, be with me, dwell in me, help me; illuminate me, grace me with your presence, increase my knowledge, search my heart, protect me, give me the strength to carry on, pardon my transgressions, overlook my shortcomings, do not forsake me in my hour of despair. In the dark and lonely hours send your Angels to watch over me; I am not deserving of your love, I am not worthy of your sacrifice. Be merciful unto me and sustain me. Do not let me drown in my many sorrows; cast aside my woes and quell my fears. Father, I am nothing without you. In my fleshly body I am weak, you are light, you are life, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the Lord of our fathers. You have given me victory over my enemies; you have destroyed those who have plotted against me. I praise you, I honor you. Lord, continue to guide me, and catch me when I stumble and fall, lighten my burdens and increase my joy. Let me not be afraid, embolden me, give me the heart of David and the strength of Samson, the wisdom of Solomon, and the spirit of Joshua, the patience of Moses and the love of Joseph. I adore you, I love you, and I thank you. Amen.
Intimate Compositions 