Teardrops

If I showed you my teardrops

would you collect them like rain?

Store them in jars

and label them Pain?

Would you follow their tracks

from my eyes down my cheeks,

as they write all the stories

I’m too scared to speak?

Would you stop them with Love,

bring their flow to a halt?

Then tell me that pain

isn’t always my fault?

If I showed you my teardrops

would you show me your own,

and learn though we’re lonely,

we’re never alone?

-Cynic Ninja

Currently Historical

Brown pipe

curling smoke

tweed jacket

and patches on the elbows

The epitome of a dusty novel's scholarly gentleman

walking down my 20th century town

-Cynic Ninja

Silver Shame

Often, blade has been pressed against my skin.

Often, I willed it to move.

Maybe an earthquake would hit

and the blade would slice.

Possibly it would drop and cut deep.

Just as often,

I've pulled the blade away.

Still shiny and silver.

Sparkling for all the world

to see my failure and shame.

My lack of strength

in a moment of pain.

Would a swift strike of a blade

dull the inner pain?

Would it numb the hurt

while at the same time

shock my lifeless nerves

with energy?

-Cynic Ninja

Strength

Is it strength to cry?

Or strength to hold tears back?

Someone who can cry,

has a strong core.

A strong center.

They have a confident and honest view of themselves.

One who can cry if front of others is even stronger.

There’s a different strength to not crying.

There’s an outside strength.

A tough skin strength.

A kind of strength that is afraid to let anything seep in so it repels.

It takes strength to cry.

It takes strength not to cry.

What kind of strength do you have

and why?

-Cynic Ninja

Untitled

I read a line of text.

“getting over abuse,”

it says,

mocking.

I clench my teeth.

Anger rising.

What idiot thinks abuse is a

“getting over” kinda thing?

Some fool who has no clue.

It's people like you

who make this harder.

Showing off your perfect life 

while expecting me to catch up.

How can I compete with you

when I started out in mud

and you were on a tropical island?

-Cynic Ninja

Dangerous Cellars

True burning anger comes rarely to me.

I'm more in the habit of not feeling.

But when it does,

I have the urge to do something with it.

Like I should take care of it once and for all.

But this last time,

               I was too busy,

                                             too tired,

                                                            too embarrassed.

                                                                                          too,

                                                                                                         too,

                                                                                                                        too.

I didn’t want to deal with it.

I didn’t think I could deal with it.

Now it’s seeped away,

the anger has.

Flowed back into the cellar

where all bad

and dark

and ugly

things are hidden.

A part of me wants to dig it out and deal with it.

The other part is quite content to let the anger stay hidden.

-Cynic Ninja