Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Faceless Child

Teen suicide runs rampant these days. I never quite understand what motivates a child to take his or her own life. It's a sad reality and seems to be getting worse. Look for the signs and be vigilant. Someone may be quietly reaching out to you....

Child of wonder, bore preciously.
A gift from God, statistically.
A bundled joy of hopes and dreams,
A faceless doll with broken seams.
Like a million ants appearing magically,
drawn to the perfumed scent of verminal stench,
of potato rot, flicked cigarettes and tater tots.
Wanted, needed...discarded, unheeded.
A constant burden,
caught in a turnstile of mundane gyrations.
Laughing sadly, wanting badly,
crying gladly, glaring madly.
Needing to be held together...
with tape and Elmer's glue.
Never taken need of bear hugs and kisses.
Lost self-esteem, found visine - persecution, blame, tempted to feel...bloated, blistered.
Trying to fit size 48 jeans - bell-bottoms, extra-wide loops. Cursing, hurting myself
while the world watches quietly, ignorantly, calmly, blindly.
Aroused, cared for, a temporary solution...of vodka and tonic. Tangerine Listerine, iced cold chlorine.
A quiet place. Secluded, poluted. Sequestered, serene.
A permanent escape, only illusionary,
Contusionary, quite contrary.
A happy space with velvet walls and purple passion fruit, cellophane mirrors, twinkling
ceiling stars and chimney soot.
Mindless adventures, never leaving my room...filled with thoughts of injustice, laughter...of the sinister kind.
Trusted blinders on my eyes' windows, the venetian kind...portals to a world I can't understand,
Can't cope with, find reason...for living, for dying, forgiving, denying.
I am a marionette pulled by strings that disappear into clouds of mental anguish.
Led to believe, bred to conceive, to repent.
To wade through a cesspool-ed,
Cubic-led, tunnel of escape.
Wanting to feel, alive with purpose, with compassion, with call my friends.
Forgetting what it's all about,
What the future doubt.
Reaching for solutions...of vodka and tonic,
Listerine and grenadine, NyQuil, Dayquil,
Turpentine jellybeans.
I am a child, a faceless child, suffering from...
Imperfection, neglect-ion, seeking resurrection.
Conformity, sobriety,
A permanent vacation...from society.
Don't laugh at me, don't cry for me...
Out loud, insanely, profanely.
Understand, this was all unplanned...carefully.
Thought out, but spur-of-the-moment.
It'll only hurt...the one's I love and those I thought I did.
I am invincible, invisible, impermeably broken.
My well laid plan cannot withstand,
Scrutiny, starvation, incarceration.
My blessed room, my cubicle tomb.
The place I run and hide.
I am a butterfly out of season. I have reached my peak.
My wings are tired. I have conspired.
It's tranquility I seek.
A step-stooled stairway to heaven, or hell.
It's hard to tell.
I cannot dwell...or linger any longer.
Just 2 steps to salvation's creation, to the edge of being...
Bitter persuasion, contemplation, perpetuation.
The tension's there, a mindless stare.
Thoughts are running everywhere. I don't care.
I hear music...muffled commotion, silent emotion...
a tingling sensation, a last temptation.
Standing on the threshold of a dream,
Reality, a viable escape.
Afraid, curious, defiant.
Committed, serious, reliant.
A final step toward eternity.
The terminal plunge, the taut...lesson of life,
The inevitable loss of...everything I've ever striven for.
Consciousness, then realization, cold pervasion.
The pain is minimal, never really there.
I hear the final footsteps...of a life gone by,
Slowly slipping away.
My mind is drifting, still intact,
Circling a drain of cerebral black.
My feet are dangling. I am floating on air.
Uninhibited, undenied, walking on a cloud 2 feet high.
Stretching eagerly for another side.
My world is fading, disappearing...
Right before my very eyes.
I am drifting down a river of solitude.
Relaxation is seeping in,
As I extend toward an approaching light.
Darkness prevails, resistance curtails,
No more struggles...
To fight the demons I have learned to embrace.
I am now free of the torment, confusion, resolution.
My need to escape subsides...behold, peace.
I am now truly alive.
I was a child with hopeless dreams.
Bore preciously, raised normally.
Caught in a whirlwind's soliloquy.
A blemish of burden to those I met,
An incurable disease, unwashable speck.
A faceless child that no one sees,
On bended knees,
With crooked neck.

Copyright © July 2009
Kevin Mooney

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