My child My child edited

Umbra swims in murky waters

old castles crumble

beneath the grime.

Silent cries

fill the night—

birds in motion,

though they do not fly—

caged and imprisoned

where invisible bars collide.

Demon tongues chide,

while ballads and ditties embrace.

Vespers whisper:

O Creator Divine,

hear my cry—

Come save us now

from this

storm of mine.

By: Bernice Bowling

I died today edited

 I died today.

My heart began to bleed.

something squeezed it--

it began to crumble.

I wheezed, clutching my knees.

I curled up.

I died.

The sky was dark.

A storm was brewing.

I was unaware, 

Unprepared.

Lighting struck,

Thunder exploded,

I died,

 laying on the ground.

Blood poured.

Strangers passed–

No one seemed to notice.

Bruised, and torn,

I lay there dying.

Screams emerged.

Anger roared,

Separations came.

I cried,

Sleeping in the dirt.

I died today,

My heart in my hand.

 By: Bernice Bowling

A million tears Edited

I Cried a Million Tears

I cried a million tears

And watched them fade away—

Never knowing, day by day,

What might come my way. 

I thought of suicide 

More times than I can count,

Each year passing

Feeling like nothing would ever change.

I cried a million tears

And watched them fade away.

One Morning, I was laughing

I packed my bags and left–

Just for a little while,

To give myself some rest. 

I cried a million tears

And left them on the ground.

Things get better year by year,

But sorrow still remains.

Nothing is ever perfect–

But atleast, it didn’t stay the same. 

I cried a million tears

And watched them fade away. 

Suicide still lives in my mind,

Just not every day. 

My mother is gone, 

My papaw and daddy too.

I cried a million tears

And watched them buried in the ground. 

Years have passed;

My sorrow is softer now.

But new devils still appear.

I cried a million tears

And still watch them fade away.

Roses still have thorns, 

And joy walks hand in hand with pain. 

Yes, I cry a million tears–

But God washes everyone away. 

By: Bernice Bowling

Living in toxic

 Living in a toxic environment can be accidental. Meaning the people you live with may not know they're toxic. Any move you make can cause friction. There is no compromise or forgiveness in this kind of household. Bitterness and resentment abound and run plentiful. The pain that comes from such a place is sometimes overwhelming. It can produce substance abuse and even suicidal thoughts. It oftentimes causes you to become withdrawn in your quest to seek out a peaceful habitation. 

They're loving, wise, and gentle to the outside world, but a gaged animal to those close to you. What's it like living here? What goes on? It's constant bickering, I am not preaching at you I am just telling you a scenario that is never helpful or kind. There's no love in it, just the selfish, self-righteous martyr who thrives on playing the whoa as me card, and always getting angry when someone makes the slightest wrong move. It's constant put-downs, never giving an encouraging word or even a compliment. These are your family. You love them regardless but that does not mean you want to be around them.

There are ways that you can use to cope. One is learning to keep your distance and only going around them when you have to. Others are art. Art can be an escape for some putting your pain on canvas. Writing is another like I am doing now. Write a poem. Talk to someone you trust and retail therapy is a thing but I don't advise it because it can become habit-forming just like drugs or alcohol. Instead, go for a walk. Do something to get your mind off of what is going on around it. Lastly and most importantly go to God, and pray, talk to Him. Go to church. 

I hope this helps whoever may be reading it and that it lets you know you are not alone.

By: Bernice Bowling 

Dark Love Edited

Echoing secrets, echoing secrets–

Of romances past.

Death takes the helm.

The Gala is in full swing,

Twirling– twirling.

An audience of shadows,

Watch as we dance.

Heavy drops of rain,

Striking the walls we painted happy.

We kiss,

Laughing as if we were mad.

Death– my only love.

Whoever knew

My somberness would light

These hazy paths,

Swallowing even radiance

Starlight shimmers, swaying–

Muses singing our songs on repeat

Dreams drift into the night.

All essence, faded

By: Bernice Bowling

Echoing despair

 

Cobwebs like sticky ooze

clinging. clinging

crushing backs

drowning despair

hope, hope spiraling

shadows and demons knock

opening old doors

screaming to be free

dying in sorrowful depth

only to walk no longer in the light.

By" Bernice Bowling

The Red Room

 In mommy's house, there's a backroom called The Red Room, This room got its name from when I was a child, and mommy and papa were re-carpeting the whole house and decided to let me pick out the color that I wanted for 1 of the rooms. I was 5 years old at the time, and of course, I picked out a blood-red carpet. It was my favorite color and still is today.

I remember the look of surprise on mommy's face at such an unexpected loud color. She then said, "well we said she could pick out one of the colors," they all then laughed, and shook their heads. Other than that, I don't remember them ever trying to change my mind on the subject. Instead, they just put it in one of the back rooms.

After the carpet was put down we then hung up big, heavy, beautiful, red and black paisley print colored curtains with the bedspread to match, and decorated it in a Raggedy Ann and Andy theme, and we all started referring to it as the red room. The furniture in it was all done in oak wood. It was a magical fairy tale room for me, even the doorknob was magical with its glass door handle, which I always referred to as a diamond. It was truly a beautiful room and still is today, and where the room hasn't been used much, the carpet is still good as new.

I never will forget that and I never will forget how excited I was about the new carpet and how big and important it made me feel to be included in the decision-making, even if for just a small part. That room, even though little used as it was, became and still is my favorite room in the house, and one of the fondest memories of my childhood.