There Is No Hell Like an Old Hell

Molten yellow wax held me entranced
suspended within a glowing lamp
my little room, my comfortable gloom
walls papered with faces and thought
so safe, even in the aftermath
violation against volition
tearfully contrived contrition
memories wrapped in cotton mist
and the brittle fragility of my youthful simplicity
as I tapped out tales of stupendous stupidity.

Where my heroes would hold me close
roiling cramps from an incorrect dose
among tumbling words from the gods I heard
the deep resonance of the renaissance man
where I would lay for hours in silent howls
scissors bleeding and clarity receding
mosquitoes eager to commence their feasting
humming in my head told me and scolded me
“It’s not over and you’re not done yet,”
where the world came to a violent end
over and over and forever again
where the door bore scars from my impotent fist
where I cracked my toe in a raging fit
where tantrums broke when I awoke
while my nightmares lay down and slept.

Where a single song could contain me
when nothing else could save me
and for every moment that I spent
I could recall another unique torment
that Pandora’s box filled with dirty socks
where my life was as cheap as the rent.

13 thoughts on “There Is No Hell Like an Old Hell

    1. His work is so amazing ๐Ÿ™‚ I love how different each piece he posts is from one another. It’s awesome. I feel so grateful to have such an amazing group of writers to connect with on here. I’m so honored to get to know you guys. I have been battling social anxiety for well forever and connecting with you guys really helped me through a lot. I feel much more confident socially since I began connecting more on her e. Keep inspiring guys! You’re incredible!

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I agree Brittny ๐Ÿ˜Š. This is a kind and amazing place isnโ€™t it. Encouragement and creativity. Does your heart good and makes your mind soar! So nice to meet you. Take care, suzanne ๐ŸŒท

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thank you ! Very nice to meet you as well ! ๐Ÿ™‚ This really is an encouraging place for imagination and it’s done so much for my confidence and social troubles. I’m so grateful. Words cannot fully express how grateful I am :)great to meet you, Suzanne!

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      3. You’re too kind as always. ๐Ÿ™‚ It’s great that your confidence has grown through this process. Your enthusiasm and passion for writing and life has helped me with my own struggles with anxiety and I am always grateful for that.

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      4. That means so much to me. You have no idea. I’ve felt so inspired and more confident thanks to you and others who have reached out. I would not be feeling this way without you that’s for sure. Having friends to discuss writing with is such a huge blessing to me because I have very awesome friends with similar interests but not writing. Writing is my biggest interest. It’s to the point that I’m writing multiple things daily. You opening up to me the way you did and getting me to open up ( I’m so damn awkward – you have no idea lol ) is huge. I’m really glad that we’re sharing this crazy journey together as artists. ๐Ÿ™‚ Thank you

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  1. This is absolutely painfully beautiful. The emotion charging through this read is very powerful. Great post !!!
    I stood before the shattered beginnings of a closing end.
    Smiling down at my feet, tears sliding down rosy, heat flooded cheeks.
    I knew I overdid it.
    I knew the pain surging through my knuckles and uo wrist was ringing clear.
    So many mistakes and lies I’ve glazed over.
    I saw a wretched creature in that mirror.
    I coveted her death, I desired the bitter end.
    Tears of loved ones never crossed my mind.
    My mind.
    The detestable gnarled thorny, blood stained mess, my mind.
    I picked up that glass fixture, smooth and cold in my hand and slammed it into the mirror.
    Cursing all I was.
    Miraculously the fixture only smashed, not the mirror, not my hand.
    I looked again into the mirror, that dogged, unbreakable mirror and saw myself.
    I saw my frizzy hair and my red cheeks.
    I saw my wide eyes, blood red and terrified, my hand covered in debris, the smashed moon and sun glass fixture.
    Realization came over me and I was brought to weeping.
    That creature I loathed was myself.
    I saw myself and realized I was something deserving of love.
    Merely human.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. Thank you! Your piece really moved me. It reminded me of a time about a year ago when I was at an all time low . My anxiety was getting the best of me and I was trying a prescribed adhd medication and they made self harm (Not cutting) smashing things, punching things, etc. I am not a violent person at all. I just think the medicine exacerbated my worries. Having adhd, my emotions aren’t consistent which can mean I get over things pretty quickly. With that ability taken away and anxiety in the mix, things got ugly. I was struggling with things at work and with admitting I needed help with my anxiety moreover than anything else as I’ve handled my adhd symptoms on my own for years with self-taught discipline and schedules. It’s still hard at times but nothing compared to where my anxiety was at the time. After I smashed that moon fixture, like in the poem, I looked at myself and saw myself. It’s really hard to explain. I don’t know if Jesus was intervening, probably,because I don’t know where else or what else could’ve broken me from that outrage. I looked at myself and I started crying and cleaning up the mess thanking God I didn’t smash my hand with that fixture and need stitches. It was an experience that moved me and changed me. I really began working on myself and posting on here which helped tremendously. I know I say it probably too much but this blog, connecting with you guys seriously helped shape me to someone I’m growing to be happy with. It’s really wild. But your piece made me think of that moment and so I wrote about while commenting and cried. Lol It’s a positive cry though. Thank you for always inspiring me and getting me to open up. You’re a true artist and friend, Tom.

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