“But I didn’t know that we
We could break a silver lining.
And I’m so sad.
Like a good book,
I can’t put this day back.”
-A Sorta Fairytale / Tori Amos
“But I didn’t know that we
We could break a silver lining.
And I’m so sad.
Like a good book,
I can’t put this day back.”
-A Sorta Fairytale / Tori Amos
Nay, neither sleeping
Lay no white lilies,
My soul is tainted.
I have embraced
The greatest sin.
What once was light,
I would make dim.
Bright crimson ribbons,
See how they run,
Pretty red representations
Of what I have done.
Twisting like streamers,
Cheering me on.
It’s my personal parade..
Made with a scalpel and a #26 blade.
The whisper of willow leaves,
Wind winding through the trees,
Can’t do a thing to ease
Thoughts like a million bees
Inside my head.
Nine hundred thousand
Are things that you said,
One hundred thousand more,
To make sure that I bled.
Oh, my friend, I’ve broken it,
And I can’t seem to find,
Strength inside these shadows
Where nothing ever shines.
And what it is I’ve broken?
My life, my soul, my mind.
So, my friend, forgive me,
For not holding on,
There’s nothing left to cling to,
Or even stand upon,
When bad has outweighed good
For so very, very long.
And, my friend I’m sorry if
I can’t catch you if you fall.
It’s not that I won’t be there
To help you if you call,
It’s because I just won’t be
Anything at all.
I died again today
Within my soul.
I crawled into the darkness
Of my deepest hole.
There unmoving lay,
Let me fall
When I need support.
Judge me harshly
When I need it the least.
Leave me to suffer,
When all I need is someone
To say they understand.
Watch my guilt consume me
You have abandoned me
Without my forgiveness.
Wouldst though had a sword
So sharp as to sever me from myself,
For I cannot stand the tether
That binds this constant pain within.
Flit erratically … and
Thought from mind.
Mind from thoughts.
Reality from …?
and then The Dance.
I have found the fae-folk,
And they are angered.
My intrusion, unnatural,
I step forward, but cannot.
You may not cross the barrier
In such a manner, I am told.
Go back, Human,
Even Death does not want you.
So they say,
Will take longer to heal.
One of my hands may not again feel.
Who would know?
I hold so much blood
When it flowed,
Seeped down and dripped
To the kitchen below.
Then they know,
I was planning to go.
So much for my locks
They smashed in without knocks
I was white and death cold,
At least so I’m told,
As they struggled to hold me together.
They won’t let themselves know
I stopped fighting the flow
Of the rapids so many long years ago…
My hand didn’t slip from the branch
I let go.
I have split into pieces
Mind to discombombulate,
Unbeknownst to a soul mate
Rescursive cursive curses
Upon the ruins of my life.
Eat it whole,
Fucking fast food and finger diets,
Go on and fucking try it.
Nothing but the butt of a joke
I’ll never understand,
And everywhere, the silent man
In the long, black cloak.
Maybe that’s the joke,
And me, no more
Than a french-fry.
Dear Alice, I’m ‘fine’,
Hope this finds you in kind.
I’ve been writing some time
To you now, and I find you
Strange but the best friend of mine,
At least here in my mind.
Here inside of my mind, at least most the time.
Dear Alice, how are you?
If I am to stay true,
Then I have to confess
That I’m lonely and blue,
I don’t know what to do, but I couldn’t care less,
When the sky..The sky I swore would stay blue,
Is gangrenous in hue.
Dear Alice, I’m dying,
Lost and I’m crying,
No amount of applying
And I know that we swore..
Dear Alice, I love you,
But I hate your guts too.
I suture up in my room.
With some string and old glue,
But I’m confessing to you,
There’s not much left I can do.
Dear Alice, I forgot,
To tell you just what
You really want me to not.
I sliced completely through our promise knot,
Along with my flesh, veins and a lot
That when I cut it apart,
All those stitches and knots,
Can’t put Humpty back up on top.
Dear Alice, don’t you
Feel the very same too?
It’s not just things I go through,
But all the things , all the things, all the things I’ll not do.
So I’m cold. On the floor bleeding out
In so many different ways,
And every wound is deeply laid
By every single wasted day,
The thoughtless things that people say.
And I don’t want to stay, no, don’t want to stay.
Not like this, not here anyway.
Hope you’ll forgive me some day.
For rhythm, think Buddy Holly..
I admit it’s kinda neat,
Your smile makes my heart skip beats.
Inside, a heat we all mostly know,
Radiates a warmth and glow.
But there’s one thing that I since learned,
As least as far as you’re concerned,
This heart of mine is way past warm,
It’s completely burned and torn.
Well, I simply started smoking,
Just to stop myself from choking.
When I think you see me, but you never do,
I burn my way through a packet or two.
One good thing about fucking my lungs,
The chances increase that I’m dying young.
The sooner that I get to depart,
The sooner ends the pain in my heart.
If I’m to go by slow destruction,
Let it be from internal combustion,
Burn me up, burn me in,
I just don’t know where the flames begin.
Melody, do you see the stars tonight?
I want to say they shine only for you.
But we both believe in facts and science,
We know that simply isn’t true.
Melody, feel the breeze tonight?
Explainable, yet oft misunderstood?
I’d say it blew just for you my love,
And disbelieve in science if we could.
Melody, can you feel my heart pounding so?
I would swear that each beat is only for you,
And despite any proof of dispute in science,
Come to you, I’m not sure it’s untrue.
How much of my life
Was all in my mind?
When young, I thought it really mattered
That I reached school on time.
That the only path that I should heed
Was the one with straighest line.
Turns out, it didn’t really matter.
Just more control freak adult chitter chatter.
I could have learnt so much more alone,
Than listening to crap they refused to own.
We don’t need any double negative miseducation.
If we learn the same en masse across the nation.
Where are we then, when we reach the end?
Knowledge clones, diversly pretend.
Forced to sit for years in class or on a bus,
‘Cos they have no idea what else to do with us.
Conflicted and confused,
From double negatives too often used.
When really it’s all desperate youth control.
And it’s too high a toll.
When I break down and cry,
Hating life, want to die,
Don’t you see?
I don’t want your consolation,
I want you to agree.
I walk a thin line
Everyday, all the time,
Along that edge that you know.
But I can’t quite do it, I need you to push,
I just need one more reason to go.
Tell me I’m right,
That I’m sucking in light
From everyone else.
Confirm that I’m right about hating my life,
Because I can’t quite jump by myself.
Once, as but a small child can,
I went walking with my Gran,
Ancient then to youthful eyes,
Considered also, beyond wise,
Told me stories and wonderful lies.
‘Whence come all the flowers Gran?’
Picking handfuls as I ran.
‘They pop up where the raindrops fall,
Little drops, that’s why they’re small,
Such as gets more, grows more tall.’
“Then from whence the rain doth fall?
I spun around to see it all.
‘Whenever man is cruel to man,
The Angels fill a watering can
With tears in which they all shall cry,
Once full, they pour it from the sky,
Thus comes the rain.’
‘Can I not have such a can of my own?’
Wishing to see such flowers grown.
‘I hope not my dear, not any time soon,
Not ‘fore the grass grows over the moon.’
Tears a’plenty, broken hearts have bled,
Without need of the Angels Shed.
“Is there really such grass on the moon?
And are we visiting any time soon?
“Not you and I, so high in the sky,
But the grass is well into bloom,
With a wink of her eye, she pointed up high.
‘That’s why cows jump up with a spoon.’
You tore me down,
Said you hoped it hurt
As you left me bleeding in the dirt.
You took my soul, way back then,
But tonight I get it back again.
You said ‘one more chance’, and I agree,
You smile, assume you still know me.
You think you’ll do it again, or you’ll try,
But a new me rose up where the old one died.
You might not think I’m the type to plan,
But when the knife goes in you’ll understand.
Steaming water for my broken heart,
Scented soaps for salty tears.
I try to scrub it all away,
The memories and years.
Scour now, arms once which held you,
Attention, hands which may have touched.
Each part in turn desperately tried
To be cleansed and purified,
So I might finally forget.
But how to scrub clean a heart?
The most affected part.
Shall I cut it out or cry it?
It hurts enough for me to try
It either way.
I doubt there yet remains
Enough water in the world’s whole drains
To wash me free from you.
I’m a little bit slow I confess,
But I get there in the end,
And now I sadly realise that,
I was never anyone’s friend.
I was just the joke that they kept around
To pick themselves up
When they felt down.
Just call Alice.
When their life was feeling tragic,
When they were having a hard time,
They realised that their life was gold,
If compared to mine.
Just call Alice.
Stupidly I thought
My company was sought
For what I had inside,
Something in me that i brought.
But it was always lies,
I don’t know why I’m surpised
They called Alice.
I go walking in the rain to hide my tears,
Quite the cliche, but still,
A deluge against hot fears and chill,
It’s the only way I can stay standing,
Hate the cold, love the thrills, so
I learned to embrace all kinds of pills.
Sweet lies as they laugh,
‘Though for a second I feel well,
They are false promises by half,
That just bring darker hell.
I crawl into cracks,
Hiding from the doubt,
But I’m so fucking lost,
Am I crawling in or out?
Trembling, I tremble more.
Parts of space not seen before.
Stuck on the event horizon of my heart,
An endless fall into a deep black hole,
Major Tom, I’ve lost control.
I’vr become a total mess.
I ache more, I cry more. I become less.
I recall when I first heard it,
The terrible ‘OH’ from hell.
Inferred in a way, that they got I was gay,
But would rather eat their own spleen than to say.
I would have preferered some profanity,
At least it would fit with my sanity.
It happened not long into second year,
Mum asked ‘How was school today, dear?
Tons of cute guys in your year now, I bet!.’
I said that I hadn’t noticed one yet.
And then I replied, strength from anger inside, when
She asked was there someone I fancy?’
I said ‘yes. She’s perky and hot, tho’ she ain’t got a cock.
She’s blonde, and HER name is Nancy.
And she said ‘OH’..
I was at a club, dancing wild,
A guy came up, dipped and smiled,
He asked me if I’d like to dance,
I said thanks very much, but no.
Yet He assumed an arrogant stance,
But I stared him down with only a glance, said
There were things of disinterest to me in his pants.
I didn’t much care for construction cranes,
But I sure loved a sleek Lamborghini with brains.
And he said…’OH’..(dyke)
A party at Uni, my ride home was late,
I sat outside of the house just to wait,
But a charming guy joined me,
Started to chat,
So I said stop right there, please no more of that,
I’m firmly and lovingly ‘girl-parts’ attached.
He gave me a smile, he soon had to go,
But I should join him on the weekend,
Give ice-skating a go.
He winked, said he’d be there the whole day,
Ice-skating, you know,
With his lover, named Joe.
I said ‘OH’.
The flowers have all dried now,
And the stepping stones worn thin,
Still I love you so much
I don’t know where to begin.
You ask me if I’ll love you
When we are old and grey,
I smile and I kiss you
’cause there’s nothing more to say.
There’s an 80 year old lady
Who lives right next door,
And she dances the tango,
On the living room floor.
Her partner is long gone,
But her smile says not so,
That the music plays on,
Sweet and soft and slow.
The leaves fall for you,
My almost forgotten one.
But they tumble without reason,
Without motion or purpose.
The moonlight overtakes me, and
I have no recourse.
I have lost this race, but I feel
No remorse, surrendering myself gladly
To the empty endless night.
Flit through my unfettered mind and
The sky resonates with the sound of stars.
Silver spoons on silver jars.
And then the wind.
A gentle, flirtatious breeze
Disturbs the stillness with quiet audacity as
I watch you in a dress that I can see through,
Trying hard to catch a firefly, maybe two.
But no matter how fast or free you run,
You can’t catch a single one.
I breathe warm air into your hand,
And hold it still until they glowing, land.
And soon your hand is lit, and you hold it up to see.
‘How did you did you know that’s how the trap should be?’
I smile and I laugh. ‘’that’s how you caught me’.
I watch the people, and their
Greener sided fences.
I note their masks and their reflex defenses.
I move through life just being myself,
‘though I could be anyone. Anybody else.
I watch the people and their plastic smiles,
Their luxury sports cars driven less than five miles.
Armani suits, suited to suit them,
Or viewed through the right eyes, suiting their disguise.
And I wonder if they’re happy in their artificial lives.
I watch the people. I could mimic their movements,
Act out their gestures, smiles, plastic puppetry.
And I wonder if I’m happier inside self-misery.
‘Cos I could have it, have everything I see.
And all it would cost is me.
Until further notice.
I might introduce myself,
If I knew who I was.
Maybe I’m that girl.
The one who sold the world.
I merely seek redemption,
No judgement at all.
As such I take the paintings
And the photos from the walls.
From the rooms and in the halls.
From the blood-free bathroom stalls.
Familiar mirrors to my eyes.
Of my eyes. No reprieve, only reprise.
Maybe I AM that girl
In those pictures that used to be
Hanging here, unseen.
An unexpected visit from out of state,
My parents, unannounced.
The day has me cringing
Like a mistreated dog,
Waiting for ‘those comments’.
But for once they never come.
They say they miss me, and leave,
I exhale, and breathe.
And then I cry as I curl into a ball.
Because just maybe
They don’t hate me after all.
I have a troubled mind,
Athough the trouble’s mine,
I find I always mind, mind the trouble, yeah.
I get angry,
Oh I get angry. and
I don’t know why it’s true, but, I get angry that I do.
And It’s not me, no,
At least, the one I used to be,
and, it’s not me, no, not the me that I’m trying to find, no..
Somebody help me, won’t
Somebody kill me, cos,
I have a troubled mind,
And everyday I find
My troubles spilling over
On to you, on to you.
At night the misty rain looks white,
Like powery ash in the cold street light.
I imagine it made from things people had,
Burned now to dust by a world gone mad.
As I walk through it, it brushes my skin,
Fills up my lungs as I breathe it all in.
Particles of people and things they would do,
And I wonder if I’ve inhaled anyone that I knew.
Spin now, leaves of yellowing red.
Your futile negotiations
With the wind would still have led
To every drop of blood you bled
From limb and limb and limb.
Dropped, discarded, forsaken, shed.
Wishing maybe they were mine instead.
Something always draws me back,
Though I’ll admit when I was wrong.
But try an understanding that
Sometimes I ‘m here, but my soul is gone.
Endless aching wears away
Far more than I can spare,
Lays raw my sensitivity,
‘Til I break down and lie, saying I don’t care.
I’ll hide behind glib arrogance and puns,
A child ‘neath her mother’s skirts,
You may be misled if you think i don’t care,
I care so fucking much it hurts.
And oft I am wont,
To see each struggling step-by-step
As progress in the grind,
‘Til in my ear, a whisper,
And laughter from behind:
‘Silly rabbit’ sayeth life,
‘Trix are for kids…’
Sometimes if I’m listening,
Awfully still, no sounds at all,
I can hear the faintest ding,
Of tiny bells behind the wall.
It must be mice’s bicycles,
Of this I’m fairly certain.
The sound it makes is quite distinct,
Down behind the skirting.
It moves around from here to there,
Wherever the mice bikes go,
Perhaps demanding right of way,
Or just saying hello.
They ride around at oddest hours,
To hide the sounds, I s’pose.
They like when folk are having showers,
Or when the lawn-mower goes.
My family and friends think I’m crazy,
They can’t ever hear a thing.
But I know it’s mice, awheeling away,
When I hear that tiny ding-ding!
Depression is a zombie,
It likes to eat my brains.
Bipolar is a station,
Mood swings are my trains.
My old self is a graveyard,
She lies beneath the stones.
Loneliness a winter chill,
Always in my bones.
My awkward elegance
Fails at the most undesirable moments.
A misspoken phrase is never alone.
Always accompanied by a room
Of suddenly silent witnesses
To the heat and hue flooding my face.
What can I say?
Everyday we’re getting closer.
Some like to jump the gun,
Trying hard, hard to be someone.
Others yet, wishing for much less,
Tend to leave a mess,
Against our won’t or will,
Everyday we’re getting
The world has made me
Oh thou melodious eloquent ode,
I mourn the death of thy lengthy meter.
I’m fast food. Take-Away.
Fit-it-in a single-frame-meme.
Ambiguous verbosity that draws
Gently upon thy wit to eke meaning?
“Ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat”.
Do you feel it?
When you are down,
Down inside yourself?
Those deeper dives.
The separation and fear.
This isn’t me!
All the while,
To every failing fragment.
The darkness of the void,
And the bright splintering light of insanity.
Feel that sickening
I’m not just a loser,
I’m a bad loser.
So don’t confuse her
I’ve been playing the same song
For so very, very long,
That I forgot my dream,
Sunlight, coffee and cream.
Now everything just feels wrong.
But there are still no bright halos here,
This gaslamp is unlit.
A long walk in darkness
Leaves these messages well writ.
Hair and life in tangles.
Hair and life a mess.
Hair and life darker than they should be.
Should buy a brush.
My mind’s become my enemy,
Playing all these tricks on me.
Is it now, before or after?
Each waking day I’m walking through
Makes each nightmare
Mixed up, used and self-abused,
My screaming sounds
Am I collapsing in, or
Wherefore, my happy-after?
My thoughts ring out like gunshots,
I feel the wounds within,
The warmth inside me bleeds away,
My soul is wearing thin.
I’m standing here in darkness,
Staring straight into the sun.
My heart unable to decide if
I’m ending or just begun.
The choice keeps getting colder.
Do I end here or begin?
Because before I get much older,
I might end up giving in.
If pressing blades against my skin,
Until they cut right through,
Pushing them still deeper in,
Is how to talk to you..
Start counting cuts.
Try to see what they might say.
You think I don’t have the guts,
To cut myself away.
But listen hard, no, harder, because before too long..
I’ll be gone.
‘I say’, said Alice,
And so she did.
Until such a time,
At another tea party,
In a different rabbit hole,
She heard, reverb, words
She knew were hers.
She recognised well that which she had created,
Now in another place, twisted and restated.
And she screamed with anger.
But her mouth was quite full,
Of delicious cake.
And she choked, and swallowed,
Then, on reflection, took another nibble,
And swallowed again.
‘You’, she said most sternly,
‘Have NO RIGHT!’.
‘No right at all’, she continued,
‘To take words that I have wrought,
And use them as your own retort.’
But no one replied, and
With no thief in sight,
She returned, despondently,
To eating cake and thinking furiously to herself,
In between appreciating the silky sweet icing,
How she might, she might..
‘Someone has stolen my words!
I simply can’t abide the pilferring
Of perfectly presentable poetical practice.
Something must be done!’
And something was.
The familiar cry :
“Off with her head” was heard,
And with it, every poetical line and verb
Alice had created here,
Indeed, once there, had dissapeared.
Oops! Something happened to their page.
‘And that’, thought Alice, ‘is that’.
‘But now I don’t know what to say.
They’ve taken my mouth and my voice away.
They’ve taken my words away!’
‘I can’t say what I wish, I wish!’
‘Words and emotions I need to shout!
Going ’round in my head like a fish,
And THEY CAN’T GET OUT’!’
‘An Alice with no voice of her own,’, smirked the Cheshire Cat, ‘is hardly an Alice at all, now is she? My, my, whatever shall she do?’.
‘I suppose I may as well no longer write, Cat’, said Alice.
‘As I cannot speak the words of how i feel then,
In case someone was to simply steal them.’
‘But I don’t know how I might ever mend,
Without all my words to spend,
Like bright pennies at a bakery..’
She had a thought.
Say, do you have any cake?’
Alice sat, munching cake, and taking time out to think on the matter
She wakes up every morning
Just to die a little more,
And this feeling, unbelonging,
Well she wonders what it’s for.
The world’s a crazy jigsaw,
With no design to it,
And still she always tries so hard
To make the pieces fit.
The clutter of her past life,
Scars from so-called friends,
Too much toxic baggage
In a suitcase of pretend.
Life is life, no meaning,
No laugh, no joke, no prize.
There’s just the punchline friend,
And you’ll find it’s coffin size.
Now I am distilled,
An essence merely to be contained.
Poured into a tiny vial
No larger than a fingertip.
Sealed with scraps of cork and wax.
And this is me.
Relegated to a dusty, insignificant
Place upon a shelf.
There to remain,
Trapped within myself.
And the label,
Now yellowed with age,
Hath spidery writing scrawled,
Barely enough there to see
Words that remain. That say
I write poems how I’m going through Hell,
‘Cos up close I know you can’t really tell.
I spend days getting mentally ready,
So for one afternoon you think I’m better already.
Then I go home and fall
In a heap ‘gainst the wall,
Because if I’m better at all,
It’s at putting on elaborate shows,
So that you just won’t know…
It takes me three days to mend,
And then I do it again,
But the laugh is on me,
Because the person you see
Is who you expect me to be,
And it’s simply not fair,
Because that person’s not there,
No that person’s not there,
Because that person is me,
And that person’s not me.
Such a perfect disguise
That you believed all the lies,
But it’s to my demise,
’cause when it’s time for the truth
You just believe in your eyes
From all the times that I lied.
Lied that every day, I’m OK.