Horror Author
the weekend has come
but all i can see
is the week ahead
right in front of me
there’s no place to go
there’s nothing to do
i’m lost in this hell
i drown in the stew
i wait for the day
when action begins
the start of the week
i can live again
i must be busy
i must be working
but on the weekend
life is so boring
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
Sometimes when I
Want someone to hold,
Or for someone
To hold me,
My cat knows –
She lays and
Purrs on my chest
When I’m lonely.
She’s always there
To knead on my chest
With nails that need clipped
Poking me, drawing blood –
She settles and sleeps
The constant hum
Of her hypnotic purr.
Some days I fall
Asleep to her affection,
Some days she sleeps
On the couch
When I toss and turn –
Her affection never
Stops the night terrors
She’s always there afterwards,
But cats can only do
So much for humans
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.
Confusion and lack of focus
Negative thoughts swirling around
One bad assumption leads
To one bad memory or
Many, and leads to more
Bad assumptions – lying
This is Satan, Lucifer, The Devil
Thoughts run amuck to
Make you hate yourself, to
Make you hurt yourself, to
Make you kill yourself, to –
The demons are inside you
When your mind wants you
To push away people who
Love you; ones you love,
The one you love –
It’s not the love you wanted
But it’s the love you need
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.
James Pack 