Poetry

The Hollow Dark

“When I am falling apart,
a hollowness begins to set in.
That’s how this darkness feels.”

When I am falling apart, a hollowness begins to set in. It feels like like a still lake in the midst of a clear night in the fall. The dark rippless lap at the shore, and you can only see the silhouette of things drifting along the surface. That’s how this emptiness feels. That’s how this darkness feels. Bottomless. Limitless. And that is when I feel like nothing can go right. But if I look close enough, I can see stars glittering against that same surface. I can see the crescent of the moon. Rippling, too. In moments like that, I’m reminded that hollow darkness is only temporary.

© Sarah Doughty

It is only temporary.

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Poetry

Sweet Revenge

“This r e v e n g e of mine
tastes so much sweeter knowing
I’ve risen off the ground
and left my darkness behind.”

I remember, when I was little, how much I dreamt about. I remember wondering if I would escape my dark world and find my way to the other side. I remember wondering what my future would look like if I did. And I knew, as I hit the floor, that if I made it, I wouldn’t waste it. I wouldn’t be anything like the man that took so much of me. The one that robbed me of my childhood. I knew I would find a way to pick myself back up and overcome. I knew I was born for more than what he wanted from me.

And I didn’t care how long it took, but I was determined to dream. Not to chase them — because true dreamers will find a way to make them a reality. And that’s what I’ve done. I might be far from perfect, but that list of dreams — every little thing I ever wanted, but was told I would never have — has dwindled. The future made room for me. My dreams have been realized, and with every passing day, I move closer and closer to knowing, with every part of myself, that I won the fight of my life. I beat him, and a carved a life for myself.

That is how I have overcome him. That is how I’ve survived this long. That r e v e n g e of mine tastes so much sweeter when I know I’ve risen off the ground and left him in the past.

© Sarah Doughty

I rose above
the thing he made of me,
and became so much more.

The darkness is just a memory
that haunts me now.

Flash and Micro Fiction, Poetry

Dead Bodies And Unseen Ghosts

“The problem isn’t so much
that I know I’m dead.
What I don’t understand
is why I’m still here.”

Do you see that over there? The chalked outline of a broken body? That’s me. Or at least it was. Now, I’m different. A little mad, maybe. Belligerent even. Because no one sees me any more.

The problem isn’t so much that I know I’m dead. What I don’t seem to understand is why I’m still here. I believed that, in death, we just stop. Much like going to sleep. Only we never wake up again. But here I am, less than a dozen feet away from my lifeless body, trying to reconcile what I’m experiencing.

Some instantaneous flashes of brain activity? Or maybe, is this some sort of afterlife? No one can see or hear me. As I moved around the lot and the people scurrying around in the background like static, I stared at my former body.

I was fixated. Like a mouth to flame, I couldn’t bring myself to look away. And the longer I stood there, the more I put the pieces together.

My body is dead, but my spirit is very much alive.

© Sarah Doughty

I can’t help but wonder
how long I have left.
Or, if I’m here alone.

A little thing inspired
by this month’s festivities.

Poetry

What I Need

“Wanting is one thing,
but need is entirely different.
I needed you and you were mine.”

I find myself thinking about the what ifs. What would I be doing if my circumstances were different. If I could live wherever I wanted. But then I reign myself back in. Because reality is what it is, and I have what I need. Wanting is one thing, but need is entirely different. I needed to write, so I write. I needed you and you were mine. That is always something to be grateful for.

It was always you. Yes, you. No matter who you are, where you are, or how you look, or how we are connected. You are here, reading these words. My soul is connected with yours in this one, finite moment.

© Sarah Doughty

Thank you for being here with me.

Poetry, PTSD and Awareness, Uncategorized, Updates

Testify! – A Collaboration

A piece of grave importance that is very relevant and needed in today’s society. Please take a few minutes to give this one a read.

Blood Into Ink

Testify

Elephants in the arena,
drowning out the stories as
we all hear them,
stomping on
the flowerbed scenery
they’ve built around your garden of rot,
and without a
second thought,
sold the world a
wilting centerpiece
(Nicholas Gagnier)

I
And His Daughter Prayed for Her
She didn’t really know why
She prayed she’d not meet a guy
At a party; ‘cause he’d liked beer
That sudsy stuff she’d now fear

II

The louder we toast
The better the truth we spew
Just another pint
The truth becomes toxic stew
We’ll all agree
Got the votes of the old crew
Now let’s all meet
At Four P’s and grab a brew
(Stephen Fuller)

Oh! look at him
when the venom drips from his slithering tongue
and he moans and screams
to validate his flagrant lies
and the white privilege
agrees in complete unison

Hiding behind the female prosecutor

View original post 697 more words

Poetry

Eras

“And then there’s you.
You were, and always will be,
my epic love.”

When the season changes from summer to fall, and then steadily towards winter, I’m reminded that we, as people, have seasons too. On a cellular level, we shed our old selves and become new again. In a way, I find that quite romantic. How we can try to follow that same mentality when it comes to our experiences, our triumphs, our failures — our eras?

My childhood was the dark ages. I’m not sure what I would call my current phase. But that’s okay. I’m on a beautiful journey. And the best part of it all is that I’m not alone. There have been friends that have come and gone. There are friends that remain. The ones that lift me up as I try to do the same for them. They are irreplaceable. They are home. And then there’s you. You were, and always will be, my epic love. My greatest strength. My weakness, if only in the ruin that would remain if I lost you.

So, if you’re reading this, thank you for being a part of this era of my life.

© Sarah Doughty

Thank you for being
on this journey with me.

Poetry

A Life Of Worth

“Thank you for loving me
and making life worth living.”

I have spent enough time living in hell to know that this is far from it. In comparison, it’s like a bump in the road. But if it weren’t for you, and your unwavering support, it wouldn’t have been a bump in the road. It would have been a new kind of hell. So thank you, for being here. Thank you for making life better. A little easier. Thank you for loving me and making life worth living.

© Sarah Doughty

Because life isn’t easy.
I never claimed it was.
But loving you
changes everything.

Poetry

Never Again

“I promised myself that I would stop
writing about you. This is that time.”

I promised myself time and time again that I would stop writing about you. About how I miss you in a way that feels like a hole was left behind in my chest. It was never meant to last, I see that now. And I admit, I’m loyal to a fault. But enough is enough. I need to let you go, because whatever we shared was never real, as I thought. I’m not being fair to myself. I don’t deserve to torture myself over you any longer. So, this is that time. To forgive myself. And to finally move on from you.

© Sarah Doughty

I don’t deserve
this self-inflicted torture
I’m putting myself through.

Poetry

More Than Ever

“I never thought it was possible,
but I love you more than ever before.”

I never thought it was possible, but I do love you more than I did in the beginning. It seems as though every day, you do something that proves your devotion. You make me laugh, sometimes so hard that I cry. You make me see the lighter side of things, when I’m in my darkest moments. You drop everything if you think I need you. But it’s more than that. It’s the person I’ve known for all these years that continues to show me how I am loved. And that is a miracle.

© Sarah Doughty

Thank you for letting me love you.

Poetry

Rogue Comets

“And that. The passion we shared.
Oh, how much I miss it.”

We crashed together in the night like a pair of rogue comets. There were flashes. Explosions. And we both disintegrated into bits of rubble and stardust. And that. The passion we once shared. I don’t think I can emphasize how much I miss it. Being with you. Without a care in the world. Where nothing else mattered but you and me and the sounds we could elicit from one another. The way we would pour all the intensity into each other and leave nothing behind.

So, my love, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I’ve lost that part of me. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll find it again one day. Hopefully, you’ll still be with me when it happens.

© Sarah Doughty

Please, don’t give up on me yet.