Mad Metropolis

 

Mad Metropolis

 

Corruption inside my soul

Someone pulled the trigger

Pointed it at my heart

And let it all go

 

On the streets of desperation

Shadows keep walking by

Ghosts of many nightmares

Walk upon us everyday

 

They own the city

This mad circus, untamed

Charming us senseless

With tricks and toys of the visual kind

 

Lurking in the curtains of Midnight

Representation of my spirit

Mirrored into the air

I can feel my breath leaving my body

 

Wanting to scream, something careless

Words to pierce the soul of the wicked

Force that follows me, shattering their strength

In to a million, unfixable pieces, on the floor

 

Turning the tragedy and sadness their way

For once, I have the force field to

Prevent the fatal future the streets of this

Maniac metropolis poison us slowly with

 

Yes, the city has gone mad

I can’t run from its taunting laughter

Into the streets, upon streets

Every block just the same as the last

 

City is mad

Someone pull the trigger

Let the maniac go and

Release us from its painful grip

 

The world is just a metropolis

Gone mad

 

~ J. Lefever ~

(03/19/13)

 

This piece is dedicated to my brother. He would understand what I mean by these words. ( ~Sis )

 

 

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©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication

 

 

 

 

 

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Taken

Taken

 

 

Undertow of emotion

Pulls me further & further

Feeding my sensitivity

Like its dying from famine

 

Vaguely remembering a time

When the waters ran deep

The world was alive, in color

Hunger was not something to feed

 

Hushed by the threat

That poses itself each day

Luring me to be weak

Fallen again, I just may

 

Wading on through

The pool of my forgotten realities

How I found myself here

Fixed by the proper formalities

 

Silenced by my mind

As it walks around the city

Debating my philosophies

Fighting what’s left of me

 

I know the reason

I have crawled here to die

Because it hurts less

Than the moments when I cry

 

One day, someone came to me

And said I’d never be the same

Said half my heart was killed

That I had lost the dirty game

 

They said, you will have to go on

You will hurt no matter what you do

You will never be whole again

Nothing will ever feel like you

 

~ J. Lefever ~

(03/13/13)

 

 

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©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shhhhh in the Silence

Tucked in a corner
My shadow is hidden
Don’t speak or utter a sound
In the silence
My spirit falls to the ground

Lost in the dark
Scared of my truth that
I don’t want to face
Brutal realities & lies
Events have taken place

I have no control
No power to change
The devastating tragedy be
What brings my tears
Of why he was taken from me

In the shadows I go
Please don’t look my way
Vulnerable & mad
I see only in my view
The red that comes from what I had

My mirror is gone
The other part of me
I search everyday
With empty hands
Darkness is all I see

As not to fall apart
Everyday at the seams
In the shadows I go
Vengeance & revenge
I hide, I can’t show

I scream in the silence
Shhhh says my heart
I’m torn from any other
No substitute will suffice
I yearn for my brother.

~~ J. Lefever~~
(02/06/13)

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©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication

I Will Cry

The world stopped moving.

I cannot breathe.

I drive down the street, like I’m in a trance.

Tears roll down my cheeks.

I talk to him, to my brother, my other half, my best friend, my life partner, my kid, baby little brother, who, once was little, then grew to be 6 inches taller than me in like one summer. I am 6′ feet tall so, yea, he was me little-big brother.

Dave was protective of me.

Now I’m all alone.

Now he is gone.

Where is he?

Can he hear me?

Can he see me?

Is he in heaven?

Is heaven really real?

Is it pretty there…?

………………………………………….I scream his name.

I scream it loud in the car when I drive.

Crying.

Sobbing, I scream.

It doesn’t matter.

He can’t hear me.

He is gone……………..where is he?

There is a hole in my heart.

This place where Dave has always been.

That place is still his, but…………I need my brother.

I wasn’t finished.

I wasn’t finished making memories with him, laughing with him, arguing with him, annoying him…

He was my favorite person.

He was smart, so smart, so smart that I felt half retarded around him…

He was funny, so funny, people loved him

He was respectful of others, of women, old fashioned kind of manners when it came to women.

I loved that about him.

Dave would do things, like empty his closet of all his expensive clothes on Christmas Eve, and drive downtown and give his nice jeans, shirts, hoodies and shoes to the homeless. He would do this, and not tell anyone. He did it, for no other reason, than a selfless one.

But I knew…

Dave would give, and has given his last $10 bucks to a stranger, or a friend in need…

He was shot by someone trying to rob him of his money.

Dave would have given that person his money, but that person just shot him and ran.

Didn’t even give Dave a change to reach into his pocket.

And now my brother is gone, and I won’t ever get to see him again.

I hurt so bad inside.

Words do this feeling no justice.

None.

Yin-yang.

That was me and Dave.

One is not right without the other.

Now what?

I will watch mom and dad grow old, without my brother here to help me.

I will watch my mom cry over her son’s death certificate.

I will watch my dad weep for his son.

I will scream his name everyday, so loud, in my car, or anywhere that I find myself all alone.

I will wear his big t-shirts around my house and talk to him like he’s here, or a phone call away.

I will tell stories of him to people, repeating over and over how great he was, and how I wish they could have met him.

I will bake him cakes on his birthday and make him chicken fingers because that was his favorite.

I will listen to his music, he produced music for local artists here in KC, some tracks had him on it, I play those on repeat because I like to hear his voice.

I don’t want to ever forget his voice.

I will look at our pictures, all the pictures of him, of us, until my tears run dry.

I will light off as many fire works on the fourth of July, for him because that was his favorite holiday, well besides Christmas, so at Christmas

I will write to him, I’ll write to him all the time anyway.. I already have letters, even though I have nowhere to send them, I still write to him

And I’ll cry hard asking what I’m going to do to make this pain go away…

I will never stop crying.

Will I ever stop crying for him?

Will I ever feel alive again?

Dave, I…..Miss……you

…..so…..much….it…..hurts

I love you. I will love you till my dying breath. I will love you after that.

Will I ever see you again

When my time here is finished, will I see you then

I need you

Come home

Come home

Come home

I don’t know what else to say right now….

It hurts so bad

~ Sis

I will always cry for you…

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©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication