Lady with the Shoe

There once was a woman who lived in her shoes. She had so much stress she didn't know what to do. So she sat down and cried. As she cried she realized life would always be this way. There was a stamp on her forehead I guess you could say.
Every morning she looked in the mirror not one time did it appear to her. But surely she thought it must be there.
Ocassionaly to people she would talk, about her wishes, dreams, thoughts. When she did they always laughed. "You'll never be better than where you are at." She couldn't see it. Didn't want to believe. Then the day came her dreams fell flat.
She had never been one to quit. One to give in or throw a pissy fit. But this day was different. Finally she realized. Dreams are nothing but hopes lies.
So she closed her eyes. Let her spirit die. If this is all there is, then let this be all.
~R.M. Brandon~ 2012

House of Broken Dreams (Lyrics)

Welcome to the house of broken dreams. They should hang a plaque at the door "We treat people like things". Take a look at all the things, broken, scattered memories. Yeah we treat people just like our things.
Open up the door. Take off your coat. Once you enter, you're here no more need for that.
Welcome to the House. Hang your hope with your coat. Turn your back or you'll find yourself longing for that.
Keep your eyes turned away. Peer into the holes. The darkness will fill you. Deep down in your soul.
Any empty plague where happiness fades. Bullets and blood remain.
Stay on top of the darkness. Don't let it pull you down. You're mind can get lost. Once it's gone you'll never be found.
You knocked on the wrong door. Maybe not after all you're a whore. You suck, like the holes, happiness out of life. So welcome little trick to the House of Broken Dreams. Pardon as I leave, you come right on in.
I'm just stepping out.
No one will see either of us again.
You take the house.
I'll take your coat of dreams.
We fucked eachother in the end it seems.
Welcome to the house.
Your new home.
Home of shattered dreams.
Enter as I leave.
(C) RM Brandon 2012

A Life Unbroken

A life unbroken. It must exist. Other women talk about it. Homes without holes, children without pain, pets that stay alive. A life unbroken.

What is this then? What in this life is unbroken?
What was that movie? Groundhog's Day. Repetition. The star knew pretty quickly life was running in a huge circle and yet nothing changed the course. Stagnation.

If water never moves is it really going anywhere? Osmotically it is. But does it know it is losing and gaining even in its stillness? It is inatimate and therefore of no real signifigance. Or is it?
Every day is a circle. The sun rises and eventualy falls. Squeeze in as much as you can before the light goes out then do it all again.
A circle.

Fix the holes today,tomorrow there will be a new one. Replace the broken. Tomorrow it will be missing or broken. Give a child a smile. Tomorrow the eyes will again reflect the pain. Why?

Why do some girls get diamonds when others get coal? Why do some kids get families when others don't even get hope?
Is this purgatory?
If a cat gets nine lives and a person is only supposed to get one how am I back after three?
Or am I really alive?

What if this is just a nightmare? My body lays beneath the ground years long gone, but my mind has never accepted and moved on. But the tears that fall on my pillow at night feel wet. Can you feel in a dream?
Death wouldn't really be a dream just another level of existing. Maybe in death you can feel.

What did I do wrong in life then to be cursed to misery? I was young and proud. Naive and cold. Youth, I really didn't know. Now I do. Now I see.But wait its not all bad. If it was there would be no doubt. No. There are still moments so beautiful they can not be imagined.
There are moments of sunlight, rays of happiness, between each fierce storm front.

How does one fix a broken life without more breaking?
What does normal feel like?
Norman Rockwell painted it so beautifully. Was that just a dream he was living?

A darkness enfolds. Sunlight vaguely shakes. In this life circling broken for resolution I wait.

Waiting implies patience a lack of drive. None really apply. I do not wait, I fight. I try. To no avail with the next sunrise.

If dawn is to break on yet another broken day,save me the pain,let my body in bed remain. But what if I miss that moment of sun?

(C) RM Brandon 2012

Jill in The Box

Jill in the box. Yeah; they said it was Jack. But Jill was the one trapped in a life stagnant. Body in a cage, heart on her sleeve. Smiling outside. Internaly she screamed.
A memory of the sun.The warmth of a real smile. That ray of sunlight gone for quite awhile.

Jill in the box. Waiting to be wound up tight. When the spring releases, briefly, she'll feel flight. Then, above her will shine happiness, better times. Fresh air. Light.

Soon followed by darkness once again to despair. Jack always pushes her head back underground, just when it feels like life has no down. Consumed in her cage she patiently waits, the melody, the wind, release.

Oddly enough it is the freedom that keeps her caged. Fooling herself maybe oneday. Maybe one day the spring will break free.
Eternal release.

Jill in the box, Jack forgot to come back today. In the darkness is where you must stay. But memory will keep you, hope will be your guide, until you die. Still trapped inside.
(C) RM Brandon 2012

The Ball

Standing in a crowded room all alone. Laughing as the show plays on. Tears trickle beneath the laughter. Unseen. Blend. Belong. Supress the desire to scream. Would it matter if it did? Would it cause a scene? Chameleon, conceal every bit of real. Blend. Belong. This won't last that long. Smile. Nod. Grace, fake it, hold still, don't fall. Standing in a crowded room all alone. For a moment, did you feel it? What was that? You belonged? No. Not really. Thank God, it's done. Get me out of these clothes! Layers of artificial. Nothing in this place is real. Smoke and mirrors. Plastic people. Just for a moment I want to feel real. Not a golden child. No precious metal at birth. No grande giveaway in a little white church. Smoke and mirrors trying to pretend. In the end just a fallen, forgotten, waste of flesh again. Standing in a crowded room. Alone. 
(C) RM Brandon 2012

The Journey

(One of my Awesome Shorties)

Life is an amazing journey filled with falls, flights, ebbs, flows, failures, success. It is captivating to watch the world spin past. The movie theater, with its many varied players, passing through the scenes unaware they are being watched.  But life is not just to be watched it is to be lived. Contention. Contention that rises when two players coexist independently. Neither is right. Neither is wrong. Simply different. A watcher. A doer. A dreamer. A believer. The doer can exist without the watcher yet the watcher has nothing without the doer. The dreamer will dream without belief yet belief can not exist without thought. Hence they become independently codependent. The misery of bring forced to action vs the stagnation of inaction. Beautiful compliment, or torturous imbalance? They exist dancing in the shadows. Believing in each other while doubting themselves. Change like a tiny stream eroding a great mountain side, they whither away at each others resolve by traveling together. The watcher unknowingly begins to do, the doer takes time to watch. They waltz. Contention becomes peace. Tranquility. Hand in hand in they move. Never do they lose themselves ,water cannot become stone nor can stone become water. They dance, conform, side by side. The beauty of one compounding the tranquility of its partner.
Life is a beautiful journey.
~(c) RM Brandon 2012