The Runaway Bus
Dedicated To: All Survivors of Multiple Personalities

Come and join my dolly and me. We are having some of
the finest tea. Imaginary cookies, light as air.
We're all dressed up in big peoples clothes.
Would you like to join my dolly and me? We have some
marvelous times. Sometimes we go to McDonalds. I love
big bird. Just the two of us my dolly and me.

Now there is room for one or two more. You can come too
and bring your dolly. My name is Patty - my dolly's name
is Anny. Meet Charlene, and over there is baby Margaret.
Hurry up and get in we still have some room. We don't
have much playtime left.
I hear Kandy calling, my time is all used up.
But I will see you tomorrow on Missy's runaway bus.

Midnight Rages

Memories are resurfacing. Lucid, dense and morbid.
Reminiscent of days and years passed by.
Belching out insane laughter.
These memories are goading me to take some
form of action.
Everything comes merging together. You seem to
be both man and monster.
I go into the fog where time is not time but
crazy, spacey nonthreatening place.
The silence when I leave the fog is loud.
I lie stock still. My body is chilled.
I'm staring at you and you are staring back.

I turned on the bedside lamp hoping the circle
of light would help me to understand you better.
I thought the warmness of the light could
create a magical place. But alas this proved false.
Too much pain and too many ghosts.
The fog clouded up your image distorting your face.
The warm enclosing circle of light quickly
disappeared once more into the darkness as I
welcomed the fog .

Memories

Pain engulfed my soul. A bone jarring, vile pain.
Filtering through my soul weighing down my heart.
Slowly I stand and unwrap the psychic bandages
created many years before.
Bandages that hide the mental wounds that are
still raw and bleeding.
There is a hole in my soul creating a chasm so deep
and so wide that it swallows any hope for joy.
Those memories stole my laughter and my gaiety.
They flung me into this pit of blackness and
despair.
Violently I fight the dark forces that grips
my soul.
All that's left for me is emptiness.
Vulnerability engulfs me.


My Anger

The sounds reverberated from the sky the ground
beneath my feet.
Off of the mountains or perhaps from no place
at all.
He is following me with a gait so unhurried it
impaled the futility of flight.
Cold chips of stars glittering from the sky.
Reaching arms of naked tree branches across
the southeastern sky.
Anger born from a nameless dread.
I hear footsteps, menacingly footsteps
they are coming at me slowly and deliberately.
This served to ignite my anger like coal
in a furnace.
An anger that demanded satisfaction.
It's brightness flickering like a never
ending flame.