Stoned Razor Blades
Stoned razor blades,
Strewn over the floor,
Drenched entirely with blood –
As another lost soul bleeds out,
Leaving nothing behind but her fragile skin.
Her mask was cracked.
She could not escape the voices
That were eternally calling her home.
Mags Alden, June 26, 2009
Fragile souls often are more gifted and know what it is to operate out of love.
When every ounce of fight has gone.
Surrender to the sirens ringing in my head –
Resistance is futile my brain cells are dead.
The dreams that kept me flying have turned to vapor.
Entering the eternal mist –
Staring blankly at the ceiling –
Regret to exist.
Mags Alden, 2009, April 27
The angels allowed me to see the intense pain that someone close to me goes through in a very unconventional way. Naturally I could feel and experience their pain. It has changed me as I am as a person.
Concentration shattered,
Intensity broken,
Angels’ voices break through the silence.
Ability given to you, this once,
To feel the immense pain of the broken heart.
Can you feel my heart?
The angels hand it to you
So that you can truly see
What it is like to live like me.
Mags Alden, 2009, April 27
Possible remedy found for the Black Dog.
When the black dog bites you –
There’s one thing that can heal you –
And that is what God’s Glory Glow
Pours back into you.
Mags Alden, May 19, 2009
The very essance of you gets torn away.
Once the black dog’s fangs tear away your flesh,
The core of who you are has died forever.
Mags Alden, May 18, 2009
The black dog lurks around every crevice of my being.
Advance payed in her rent so an eviction she can evade.
Not one pinch of colour on the walls of my cell –
Just the stench of shattered dreams –
A pinch of cyclic nightmares –
My private hell.
Mags Alden, April 21, 2009
Have to learn to cope with the family in my mind.
The Black Dog has tightened his noose
Of torment around my mind –
Using his cousin Psychotic to intensify its grasp.
Can’t use my psychedelic euphoric pills to alleviate the strain.
Otherwise The Black Dog’s niece Hallucinogenic will join the family affair.
Where can I go? Where can I hide?
This family of madness is consuming my mind.
Mags Alden, June 25, 2009
The quest to relieve mental anguish.
Blades have an urge
To cut beneath my skin.
They become enraged
With their inability
To hit the very bottom –
The more they cut
The less satisfied they are.
With each new day
The blades have to inflict
More pain and disfigurement
For their thirst to be quenched.
Mags Alden, June 21, 2009
Only God’s Glory can get rid of my moss.
Waves of psychedelic glory
Slosh around my mossy ridden soul
Hoping that its presence
Leaves traces of glory glow.
Mags Alden, May 31, 2009