Introducing Myself

My favourite colour is midnight,
Favourite time is soon,
My favourite song not written yet,
Alarm still set for Noon.
I quite like long beaches,
Just not walking along.
The time that I spend showering
Is the length of that favourite song.
I can’t stand cold showers
But love walking in the rain,
If there’s something I’ve never done before,
I’ll go and not do it again.
I’ve never seen a storm in a tea-cup,
Only tea-cups in a storm,
So I make sure to hold all my tea parties
Only when everything’s warm.
I’m party to tea at my tea party,
Where normally normal’s the norm,
And it’s cosier with a tea-cosy
‘Cos cosys keep everything warm,
And as we know about tea-cups,
The warmer ones keep away storms.
So that’s me in a nut-shell,
Where else would any nut be?
Will I live up to the low-down?
You’ll have to keep reading to see.

poorly timed

Tick.
I used to have a dream.
Tock.
I was on the cover of a magazine.
Tick.
Now all I do I scream.
Tock.
Doesn’t that seem..
Tick.
..Wrong?

please stop being bipolar..

Going up or down?
Country mouse or town?
Smile or a frown?
Heartbroken or clown?

You say
Make a decision please,
Indecision brings unease.
You think I like to tease.

You will not contemplate
Angles that aren’t always straight,
You say lie, and lie some more,
Act as I did before.

Be an emotion whore.

Colouring Book

I try my best to be careful,
Pay attention to the what and the wherefore.
But there always comes a time,
When I colour outside of the line.

I try so hard just to fit in,
Do everything the world is expecting,
But now and then you’ll find,
Not everything written will rhyme.

I put so much effort and vanity,
Into pretending I still have my sanity,
But too often comes the time,
I colour totally outside of my mind.

insignificant

I am small.
Not even
Second-hand dust.
I fit, I fall, am lost
Between the unseen cracks
In those lives I long to touch.
I am small.
Breathe me in, or
Sweep me up.
You’ll never notice me, or
What I want most of all.
I am small.

Miss Mirror

Hello there Miss Mirror,
Don’t I see you crying?
Don’t I watch you dying
Day by day?

Well hey there Miss Mirror,
I cannot be fake with you,
I cannot help hating you
In every way.

I wish you dead Miss Mirror,
I want to smash your face in,
There’s no beauty I see within
You anyway.

“…I want to get off.”

I smile and pretend like I’m ok,
And everyone I know
Views me that way.
But my masks are made from stone and lead,
And I carry them all
Inside of my head.

I know there’s something wrong with me,
But I don’t know what, and
No one can see
The cuts that run across my skin,
Where my soul seeps out,
And the world creeps in.

I don’t know about this thing called life,
Seems like it’s just a metaphor
For suffering and strife.
I’ve tried to see the beauty others see,
But I’m really not so sure
This world is for me.

Don’t say it..

The things you said
Have left me stunned.
I wouldn’t say those words
To anyone.

But the knives go in
And blood will run,
For you were not
The only one.

The worst is not how
They cut to bone.
But the feeling now,
I’m all alone.

You’ve said things
You can’t take back,
Then ask me
To forgive you that.

You act as though
There’s nought amiss,
But I don’t know
How to deal with this.

You act as though
There’s nothing wrong,
But everything’s wrong.
Everything’s wrong.

Jealous much?

Just when I thought
I’d seen it all through,
From the deepest of holes
To the darkest of blue,

Comes something new..

Now I see you with her,
I feel desire to kill.
I’m a mess of tears, but still,
I’m looking better
Than she ever will.

Now fifteen types of wrong are amiss,
There is no freaking manual for this.
Because I’ve never felt this anger before.
I wish to tear down the world..

Then tear it some more.

And
I really don’t know
What’s going to happen..

Now.

WonderlessLand

I’m not often given to crying,
I bear my grief stillborn inside.
In truth though, I’d be lying,
To lay claim to emotionless pride.
The genesis of these unauthorised tears
Is to look back over my life,
Regretting all of the wasted years
Spent fighting with fictional chemical fears.
Not the existence I once had planned,
Trapped the entire time,
In a fake and broken Wonderland
Within my troubled mind.

mentally ill

This illness becomes a definition
Of what I was. Who I am.
It cuts my vocals chords
One by one.
Leaves me stealing
Your unused whispers.
I have become the doll
Of a vindictive child,
Pulled into pieces.

occasional luck

My mistakes are in magnitudes,
I don’t expect platitudes,
But I guess I just have dumb luck.
Tho’ my BAE says I’m crazy as fuck,
She ain’t ever gonna give me up.
That’s gotta be the “half-full” cup.

treasure map

You drew me a map,
Said that X marks the spot.
Underneath that cross was buried
Everything you’ve got.

You said it wasn’t much,
But if I took the time
To go and dig it up,
What was under there was mine.

Then you took a Sharpie marker,
And you pulled your shirt apart,
And you drew a big black cross
On the skin over your heart.

strangely lonely

They said ‘don’t you talk to strangers’,
So I never spoke to anyone new.
And when I no longer knew myself,
I stopped talking to her too.

worthless

Lying foetal, shower floor,
Sorrow starts to drown me.
Emotions like the water pour,
Refuse to let me be.

Guilt, a humid scalding steam,
Swirls up, I choke and gasp.
Any hope, without the rope,
Slips from my shaking grasp.

I can’t stand this naked near my friends,
The worthlessness I feel.
Just a problem they can’t see,
Therefore nothing real.

So now broken bits of me
Lie on the bathroom floor.
Try to pick the pieces up,
Cut your fingers finding more.

At times the pieces gather,
And it seems that I’m complete,
But one look of disapproval
And I shatter at your feet..

sunrise..

I sit
Wrapped in the occasional blanket,
Knees pressed to chest,
Staring out the window, savoring
Slow sips from the ambiguous mug
Of dawns’ emotional duality.

I have shown my admiration
With this timely rising,
Flavored nonetheless by a profound
Distaste for such an hour.
I am ever
A child of the night.

Hues of dawn outline buildings and trees,
Splashing golden highlights in colors unique.
The city drags itself from
Tangled bed-sheets.

Gathers speed.
Begins to live.

I watch and sip as the world is made anew.

Breaking up and down.

So.
That is what you said.
Easier it seems, to leave,
Than just to make the bed.
Your suitcase sits in the hall, although
I know you packed it long ago.
Long enough at least, for us to fall
Apart.

So.
Is that the way it goes?
Mysteries of mice, and answers
In the wind that blows?
What do you think it’s for,
This life? Even God admitted,
She long ceased keeping score
Anyway.

So.
You even had to take
All our favorite art.
Wasn’t it enough to simply
Uninstall my heart?
Now you’re gone, I try, I try
To find the reasons we said
Goodbye.

Poor little bloggers.

Like me.
For any worth that you may find.
Dislike me.
For anything that comes to mind.

Laugh at me,
Be it mocking or from joy.
Play with me,
I’m but a broken toy.

Love me or Hate me,
Just do not disregard me..

Mis-thoughts

I’m standing here frozen
Inside this party crowd,
Thinking all these things
I want to scream out loud.
Swallowing so many thoughts
Of which I’m not that proud.

Now I’m staring at you all
Staring at me,
Looking so hard at
A thing you just can’t see.

And I think
I shouldn’t think
What I think
What you think
About me.

Wha..?

Well I’ll admit, yeah,
I’m a little more than tipsy.
Took a handful of pills
With some single-malt whiskey.

Cos I don’t know anymore
What we’re on this planet for,
Why I’m bothering with sober
When my life feels like it’s over.

And the funny thing is, yeah,
The thing that gets to me,
No-one would even notice,
I’m the girl no one can see.

I could get stoned, get wasted,
Be tripping, shit-face-ed,
Makes no difference at all,
If I chose to make that call.

It doesn’t seem that far to fall
Anyway

By Moonlight

Languid, silver hued moonlight,
Natures’ finest brush.
Paints perfectly poetic, yet
Starkly contrasting contours
Of your movie poster mouth.

Going my way?

Bipolar came to visit me,
I begged her not to stay.
She said ‘come along, and you will see,
That I know the way.

I know the way,
And it’s
Down.
Down.

Come with me,
Together
We shall be
Down.
Down.
Down.’

Shaken, not stirred

A mixed episode consumes me again,
Making me a force you cannot contain.
Hypomanic depression, painfully exquisite,
Takes me to places no one should visit.
There’s nothing you can say.
Just get out of my way.

I’m bitchy and nice,
Both at once, stir it twice.
Bartender! DoubIe!
Of everything in one shot!
I’m feeling hell that the devil ain’t got.
Somehow also like a saint.
Are there some flowers I can paint?
On the wall, or any place?
For a brush, I’ll use your face.
What a masterpiece!
Crazy duality refusing to cease.

Every misery exquisite.
Each sadness an exhibit.
Hypomanically heightened sense
Makes every nuance of depression intense.

Hypomania, depression and pain,
Should never be mixed up the same.

I don’t pretend.
Make it end.
Make it end.

Humpty

We all know how I feel,
From this endless exposition.
Got a scar that just won’t heal,
And I’m looking at you.
Won’t you put me back together?
I’m no egg upon a wall,
But I sure know how to fall.
There’s just so many pieces,
But they all feel so wrong.
No wonder men and horses
Can’t put them back where they belong.
Cos I don’t know how.
No, I don’t know how.

whose party is this?

I run into old friends
Who look shiny and new,
They ask me ‘damn, girl,
What’s the matter with you?’

I say ‘It’s done to me,
It’s not something I do,
“You would cry too,
If it happened to you.”

It’s my brain, and
Though I really don’t want to,
I’ll go high, (I don’t wanna),
I’ll go low, (I don’t wanna).

Synaptic strain has me feeling so blue.
I’ll go high, (I don’t want to),
I’ll go low, (I don’t want to).

“You would cry too,
If it happened to you.”‘

Mary, Mary..

What’s this?
This
Disembowelled flower?
Bearer of petals no longer.
Seeker of sunlight,
Blind beggar.
Trapped without garden.
Empty without rain.
I wither in darkness,
Unable to grow.

woven

I lean against the station wall,
Tethered to a painful weariness.
This recent storm of your volatile emotions
Left my soul wet and cold,
Bruised deep within every atom.

I close my eyes.
Unwanted but not unexpected,
My mind replays the scene.
My confusion. Your shouts.

‘Jesus, Alice, you and your fucking metaphors!’
For some reason, I recall your eyes most clearly.
Flashing swirls of anger and shattered sanity.

But without my fucking metaphors,
No one could relate, nor understand me.
Assuming instead secretive flickers
Of mockery. Of stupidity or foolishness.

Not this, this multi-faceted tapestry
I try so hard to complete every day.
But they look at me as though they
Had just discovered coloured thread.

Words and Walls

I build my wall
Of words and witticism.
Hiding from it all,
Afraid of the criticism.
Perhaps I prefer solitude
To your potential disdain.
Perhaps I prefer misery
To your complicated ambiguity.
Perhaps I prefer to stay broken
Than risk breaking again.

drag me down

I wish I was surely
Sugar-high.
Drag me down,
Drag me down.

My face is numb, yet
I cannot cry.
Drag me down.

The ink stains of my eyes
Reflect my coffee coloured skies,
Drags me down.
Drags me down.

Hopelessness that I despise,
Yet every day reprise
Drags me down.

Cry

Ah, what bitter tears these?
That like acid, carve such sorrow
‘pon my face for all to see?
Witness in the way I walk,
The lack of my self-worth.
Then when I talk,
Hear inflection filled with vitriol,
Bitterness that takes its toll
On you, on me.

Censure prefers my stained and empty eyes.
No mystery remains inside,
It’s leaking now, seeping out
Through a crack I cannot hide.
So behold this pretty self pity poetry,
This cliché and uninspired hand.
The emptiness within
Spills forth.
Isn’t that what tears are for?

Listen harder..

You know when you’re sleeping,
And you know that you are dreaming,
But you still have this dream where
No-one can hear you screaming..?

Because I get this feeling
Nothing’s what it’s seeming..
I’m so numb, I can’t feel, or
Tell what’s real,
Or what I should believe in.

And now that I’m not dreaming,
My voice is hoarse,
For of course,
No-one can hear me screaming.

My Chaotic Mind

Another burning summers day
Yet through and through, I’m freezing.
The world belongs to shadows’ thrall,
The leaves fall out of season,
Like dark red drops of blood they fall,
And all the trees are bleeding.

Ground covered in bright disorder,
Yellow, orange, red,
Scatter now without border,
Mirror thoughts falling in my head.

Once I loved, and lived, had sorrow,
Joy, and everything between.
The truest line is one I’ll borrow:
‘My life has killed the dream I dreamed’.

Lies. (thoughts ‘n stuff.)

Where now does your honesty abide?
I think I saw it broken down
And rusting by the roadside.
If it were ever to exist,
I think I must have missed
When you sold it for some cigarettes
And cheap and sour wine.


Lies.
Everyone tells them.
From the grand false promises told by commercial advertising and famous rap songs, to the small secret ones we tell ourselves in the midnight light of the refrigerator, that ‘just one more snack won’t hurt.’

Lies.
Everyone believes them.
In the end, it’s not believing the lies that hurts the most, but the unveiling of the truth behind the lie.

Exposing the ugly reality hidden underneath the happy fantasy forming many parts of your life.
The sunlight of truth shining on your vampire’s masquerade.

And it burns.

The lies you tell yourself are always far more damaging than those told to you by others. Even those closest to you.

Or perhaps that’s just another lie.

The lies that cut the deepest are usually those best hidden.
It’s not the magician you have to keep an eye on, it’s the assistant.
As the line from the movie* says: ‘the closer you are, the easier it is to fool you’.
Maybe he wasn’t just talking about magic, it applies to relationships too.

Some things bend.
Some things bounce.
Some things mend.

Others break.

So I don’t write.
I have no dreams.
I won’t listen to my mind,
For I always find
I can’t separate
My sobbing from my screams.

—–/
*’Now You See Me’.

the ink within

Constantly craving
These neglected vampyric lines,
An awkward symbiotic pain
Desires to be written,
Hungers to be read.
Demands from me
Everything you may consume.
All that I hold within.
Alas too oft
My ink grows thin.

on the count of three..

I’m not sure whose finger is on the trigger,
But let’s pull it.
We both know I need the bullet,
We both know I want this all to end.
We know it’s pointless even to pretend.
Oblivion will be my only friend.

life sucks, and then..

Death, a rotting corpse of us doth make,
No different thus to when as fools
We lived and thought we were awake.
How arrogant our daily toil,
Because we moving breathed and spake.
How easily this mortal coil
Leaves us to linger in its wake.

uh..

Your nimble tongue
Loads my velvet gun, and
I’m about to go off.

Skilled fingers test
My trigger, pressed,
Touch both firm and soft.

Our bodies fit together,
Book collections on a shelf.
Amazing how much touching you
Is like touching myself.

I love too well each dip and swell,
Your every perfect curve.
I hate how much I’m feeling that
You’re more than I deserve.

a friend by any other name..

Life can hurt you quite a lot, so
Stand by your friends,
They’re all you’ve got…
Until they’re not.

I’m there whenever you need me,
Can I say the same for you?
You’re there when it suits you, and
We both know that it’s true.

I say no offense is meant, but
I’m through with convenient, and my
Fuck-giving account
Is totally spent.

nice to meet you..

You say you like my darkness.
Those midnight madness parts of me,
The strongest of my threads.
Woven through and through,
The warp inside the tapestry
That weaves it’s wicked web.

You claim to love my darkness,
That it makes me who I am.
But although you see it every day,
You wouldn’t recognize my shadow,
Or know which hand I use.
We’ve been together for so long,
Lovers, and the closest of friends.
Maybe one day I’ll introduce myself.

vent not..

Put away
Your digital dagger,
Your ego, and
Belief you matter.
Your words
Like so much playground chatter,
Fall down
The forums, and
Simply shatter.
Become but noise,
As though raindrops patter
Down.
Always down.

dying inside..

Every night, the stars shine less.
Slowly dying inside too, I guess.
Most people look but they can’t tell,
It’s a feeling I shouldn’t have to know so well.

When being a friend is a terrible sin,
And to be kind means you won’t fit in,
It’s a thing that can make you feel so low,
And in the darkness, I feel like letting go.

But every time, it doesn’t hurt so much,
As my soul deconstructs and loses touch.

I bought my ticket long ago,
And over and over I watch the show,
And though everyone sits and pretends,
We all know how it ends.

moonlight mentality

I don’t subscribe to a moonlight mentality,
Cast a single vote. One point for reality.

Her note said ‘don’t expect me anytime soon’.
She’d gone to town for breakfast. She’d be back by June.

Unfolded my heart and smoothed out the creases.
Tore it up. But kept the pieces.

She has a vertical instinct, for what it’s worth.
To me she may as well be the last girl on earth.

I’m kinda Monday, but try not to obsess.
The colour of my coffee reflects my darkness.

I keep my hands in my pockets, in case I clip her wings,
Held on with thumbtacks, they’re fragile things.

I’ve been chained to the starting-line for too many years,
Though these cogs might move if you wound up my gears.

I wonder how long she’s been gone for.
However long it was, it will always be more.

I count the used up coffee cups to see.

That loser in the gutter looks a lot like me.

Oops!

After day seven, god had a rest
He felt pretty good, his work was the best.
The sun was amazing, saturn had rings,
But earth seem to lack just a couple of things.
So he made murder and mayhem…
Well you get the gist.
Then he made atheists
And ceased to exist.

the sorrow tree

Feelings of sorrow fell through me
Like leaves from a dying tree.
They gathered dust, settled low,
Smothered all that tried to grow.
They withered, crumble, dried,
As all the goodness inside died.
Until all that was left was pain and me,
Beneath my sorrow tree.

..the bright side..

It’s not always gloom,
Not always dull grey,
But unseen, the effort
Made every day.

I build myself up,
Tear myself down.
Try to improve,
But still always drown.

Enduring this routine,
With every doc in town.
Living the dream,
So where are the clowns?

There ought to be clowns..

drifting

The logs were lashed poorly,
Surely you could see,
Yet you watched me set sail,
Fail and drift to sea.

Wave after wave after wave,
Trying to stay brave.
My raft is disintegrating,
I feel like capitulating.

Stop saying it gets better,
….my feet are getting wetter…

overthinking

I save up all my useless thoughts
Until there’s nowhere left to hide.
My mind is never as it ought,
It always rains inside.
The silence is surrounding,
I wait for the world to end.
The silence overwhelms me,
Becomes my only friend.
But friends are fickle things,
And rarely ever true,
Silence is especially so,
And damaging to you.

echoes..

I made your morning coffee
Just right.
The way I always do.
The rich aroma fills the kitchen,
And the heat of the mug burns into my palms.
But you don’t smile.
You don’t reach out and take the offered cup.
And I remember, just like paper tearing in two,
That you are gone.
The coffee is for the memory
That I can’t forget..

comfortable precipitation

As grey clouds gather round,
The drops begin to tumble,
They make a soothing sound
As the sky begins to rumble.

But it’s warm in here beside you,
And I’ll snuggle in your sweater,
We’ll do what birds and bees do,
As the world outside gets wetter.

barefoot

When all my tomorrows are just yesterdays,
And today is today is todays old replays,
And so many come, but nobody stays,
What then? Well what then?

When my thoughts are a filthy and fraying shoelace
That I should cut loose, and simply replace,
Except I’m afraid my shoes won’t stay in place,
What then? Oh what then?

If there’s no one to talk to, not even myself,
And I don’t have a thing cos i don’t have my health,
And my life keeps on stealing my spiritual wealth,
What then? So what then?

When the colour of sadness is always blood red,
And there’s somebody other than me in my head,
When I feel less alive and slightly more dead,
What then? What then?

Frayed..

Did I let go,
Or did the rope just break
Too soon?

Why did I think,
There wasn’t much further to fall?
For we haven’t stopped.

But I still don’t know
As the rope frayed and parted,
Which end I was holding.

Wish I Was Here

I say I’m wrong just to agree with myself,
Make up my mind but then consider the doubts,
I’d start to worry about my mental health,
Except by now I’m somebody else,
And I’m having a wonderful time.
Wish I was here.

Leave me alone so I can clear my mind,
It’s not you baby, it’s the world outside.
Distractions making my peace harder to find.
In this world there’s just nowhere to hide.
And I’m having a wonderful time,
I wish I was here.

My mind’s made up like a badly kept bed,
Sheets and pillows tangled up in my head,
But it’s starting to feel a little like fear,
And I wish I was here.

Need more time so I can waste it,
Working out my proper place in this.
Things turned sour, and now I can taste it, but
I’ve had enough sitting prone and complacent.
I’ve had wonderful time,
Just wish I’d been here.

‘Cos my mind’s made up like a badly kept bed,
All the blankets wrapped around in my head.
Now it’s starting to feel a lot like fear,
And I wish I was here.

I was drowning inside my mind.
Didn’t see the ‘no swimming’ sign,
But you came by and threw me a line.
Now I’m out, and pretending to be fine.
Having a wonderful time.
Thankful you’re here.

Us.

I hope you speak to me real soon.
Hope you come out from your room,
Because
Last time we did this,
We came so very close to broken.
Counting the days now,
Maybe the minutes since we’ve spoken.

Because I don’t want Us
To go and break Us.
Thought maybe
We could shake this off.
How did we hate Us?
How did we end thus?
Now all around is just
Space to be apart.
Our togetherness cuts
Bleeding ruins of our heart.

I hope we find Us,
I hope we fix Us,
Cos,
I just want ‘us’,
Always to be ‘Us’,
Soon.

vancancy

Despondency came calling,
Seems to me it plans on staying.
In the company of loved ones,
You might get what I’m saying,
When I’m wearing my headphones
With no music playing.
I hope they’ll forgive me
If I’m not around here for a while,
My mind’s gone on vacation, left
A body with a plastic smile.
I hear all this talk about having a soul,
Not sure just what that’s about, but
Maybe that’s what goes
Inside
this
hole.

ignorable

I’m an invisible girl, look at me!
That’s kind of ironic, don’t you agree?

Though you only see me when you want to,
I think there’s a word for that: ignorable.

I’m an ignorable girl, just choose if you see.
That’s kind of heartbreaking, don’t you agree?

Choose me, use me, attention abuse me,
Ignore me.
Ignore me.
Ign..


over and over

Every day wakes with regret,
Anxiety, panic, and tears,
But I’m still here.

A handful of pills
Survives the afternoon.
Night can never come too soon.

Dead, but
Still breathing.

In my mind, I
Have died ten thousand times.

What’s once more?

acid etched..

Ah, what bitter tears are these?
That carve like acid, tracks of sorrow
‘pon my face for all to see.
Witness in the way I walk,
The lack of my self-worth.
Hear me speak with vitriol,
Bitterness that takes its toll,
On you, on me.

flicker..

=

Inside my lonely darkness
Lies the dream of a soft
And solitary
Light.
Sad sister to a candle.
It flickers alot, and
Does not handle
Winds of change.
Compared to bright and brilliant
Social lights and flaring neon sign,
It seems small.
Weak.
Benign.
Fading, from the moment lit,
In darkness tries
To find her place in it.

raindrop

I could stare for endless moments
At fallen crystalline wonder.
A diminutive drop of nature’s boast,
Reflecting and refracting.
A miniature masterpiece,
Slowly sliding along chaotic
Sway and flutter of a breeze blown leaf.

I look at this droplet and cry.
Raw and wracking sobs that shake
The very core of me.
For I am chaos, and I am ruin.
I will never feel within myself
The calmness of this perfect thing.
Complete and simple.

just rude..

Oh hey, don’t mind me, I’m ‘just rude’.
My crippling depression, ‘just a mood’.
Hypomanic self-destruction is my food.
Socially withdrawn? ‘Bad attitude’.
Well if I told you to ‘get fucked’,
Would that be crude?
?
Then let’s get crude,
Let’s get crude.

coming undone

I came upon a strange loose-end
Within my favorite sweater.
As I pulled upon the thread,
I started to feel better.
Row after row, the cord unraveled,
Over and under my body it traveled.
As the colors of yarn grew brighter,
The chains ‘pon my soul grew lighter.
I cut the last knot, nimble and deft,
Only then did I find,
There was none of me left.

lesson learned

I guess you missed the sign on my forehead,
The one that says I’m a loser.
You shouldn’t be over here talking to me,
I’m told I’m a life abuser.

Narcissistic, arrogant, selfish.
I’ve really been put in my place.
Shallow, worthless and stupid,
I’m told I’m a waste of space.

Why do I go on living this way?
I should stop wasting everyone’s air,
No one would miss me if I were to go,
I’m told that no-one would care.

Who is it that tells me these things?
Why it’s me, myself, of course.
A little self education
Is simply par for the course.

nothing is new

You said you needed change,
Something different to do.
So you left me behind
As you set out to find
Something completely new.

But you still brush your hair,
Still breathe the air
Like I do.

You still count to one,
Still see mornings’ sun
The way I do.

And I wonder, where you wander,
If you ever ponder
What I do..

sand castles

Little dove,
So many prayers left unfulfilled.
Who said you could discover love
In the castles that you build
With only sand?
Never seeming to understand
The difference twixt
Sea and land.
No matter however carefully planned,
The constructs of your heart will never withstand
The relentless jealousy of water.

low key

Ah melancholy,
Am I in love with sadness?
So broken and so
Fucked
Up?
Coffee and a little
Something
To bring me down.
Nina Simone,
Turned up so loud,
Vibration becomes
Entwined with sound.
Take me high or
Bring me down.
Normal is for amateurs.

push

Give me just a little push,
For I stand poised
Upon the razors edge
Of now
And forever.
And I long to know which way
I’ll fall.

permission to self-hate

May I not look into myself
And find,
I’m not where I wished to be
At this particular time?
Why always try to
Invalidate my self-disappointment, or
Disregard my undirected rage?
My introspective deconstruction
Is my valid cage.
My right to hate myself,
Completely just.
How dare you say I mustn’t,
When I must, I must.
I must.

abstract

Afraid of climbing further
Out along that limb?
They’re burning eBooks
Now, down below, my friend.
Anything can be something
To hate..

..my old friend..

Is this a darkness that you know?
One that covers you like graveyard soil
And says ‘You May Not’.

All those dreams sworn never to forget,
Buried deep in a coffin,
And not done yet.

Or the loss of hope that twists inside
When you finally understand:
You’ll never be any of those things
You had planned?

All of this.
All of this and more.
A darkness in which you wonder..
What you’re even alive for.

The Saga of Alice Insane

She never sleeps or seems to cry,
Just sits and watches flowers die.
Patterns on footpaths, drawn in chalk,
Heedless of those who try to walk
On by or stop to gawk.

Prefers to do it in the rain,
Considered to be quite insane,
But they can’t ever see the pain
That fills her over and over again.

And she hates the sun,
Wet chalk is best,
Better to express the mess
She burns with need just to confess
to uncaring pavement.

And though she’s out there every day
No one knows where she goes or stays.
Even when she’s home in bed,
She’s not there, she’s in her head.

And they can’t understand
Why she laughs for no reason,
Or screams in their face
How her soul is bleeding.

Packets of chalk, notebooks of sorrow,
No tomorrow, no tomorrow.
She agrees that it’s no jest,
Dreams of dying are the best.

She sits amongst the dying leaves,
Looking for something to hold,
As she mourns in grief
Her loss of belief in all things she was told.
In the fairytale all about,
How in the end, things work out.

There was a time she didn’t doubt,
But innocently believe,
Now runs her fingers over the scars
That such untruths can leave.

Crushes dead sticks into pieces,
Hoping that the act releases
Something.
But feels nothing.

Takes her chalk and draws a ring,
Pretending it’s a solid thing,
Letting nothing out or in,
And lies inside it sobbing.

Regrets how hard she ever tried,
Now her trust has gone and died
alongside her belief and pride,
That she was to be something.
Now is nothing.

Almost midnight, a sliver of moon,
And a thunderstorm approaching soon.
Yet on the pavement Alice sits,
Chalk now smashed to dust and bits,
The outline she drew, a perfect fit,
For a murder scene and her place in it.

All she need do is just lie down
In the corpse outline
On the frozen ground,
And fall into slumber without any sound,
Until in the morning, finally found,
Her body and spirit no longer bound.

way too many feels..

RAGE

My scream is unending, violent and weighed down by desperation.
Vocal chords stripped raw, and my head and my heart, not designed for such things, demand from me a heavy toll.

FRUSTRATION

That my scream is so high pitched, elevated by emotions I can no longer describe, that no one can hear me.
Just wind in the wind, another bullet with butterfly wings.

REGRET

For the life I never lived. Cannot live. Will never live.
For the wonder of love and loss, of amazing joy and sorrow, that I will never have.

MISERY

Not because I am not who I wanted to be,
But because I am someone that I wanted to never be.
Someone I wouldn’t want anyone to be.

SHAME

Because I am too weak to bear it in silence.
Because I am too weak to bear it at all.

HYSTERIA

Sick, cruel, mocking laughter, at the biggest joke of all: Myself.

They say if you don’t laugh, you cry.
I’m doing both..

something to destroy

I lie in shadows,
Bleeding away my happiness.
A filthy unwashed gutter
Too worthy a bed.

Such painful sanity,
And terrifying awareness
Rip recursive holes in my mind.

I scream inside
And cannot stop,
Each breath between
Inhales self-hatred.

I tear out my self and soul
With bloody violence.
I don’t want them,
I despise them.

They might be me,
Or just something to destroy.
And I knew,
Oh god I knew
The emptiness within.

Broken bottles and rusting cans.
If I could cut myself to pieces
With these poor tools,
Would I still remain
A dark stain
On the world?

wait for the drop..

Riding the low wave,
I am less than myself.
Now destabilised.
Now unsafe.
Attempts to find reason
Unfold my ever diminishing mind.
The view of the abyss
Imminently impending,
Finds me sick,
Leaves me sicker.

self

Emotionally drained, and I can’t feel my face,
But I can feel the beating I gave myself again.
Every emotional punch
So savage and well aimed,
Surprising no hard bruises remain.
Nobody hates me like I do,
I hate the part that hates me too.
All the mistakes that I can see
In everything I try to be,
Send me further under, and
Tear my heart asunder.

drat and bother

I can’t say that I feel lost,
For as the Cheshire Cat would know,
That would all depend on where I wanted to go.

Seeing how I don’t,
We could always ask The Hatter,
Because if I am truly lost, the answer doesn’t matter.

As long as there is cake,
Because we’re all mad here.

one or the other

You gave me a lengthy look,
And then you took
Heaven away.
But hey, that’s OK.
Then before I knew, I fell,
And you showed me hell,
And that was ok too.

One or the other, I’ll acclimatize.
Learn to balance, to be wise,
But only one.
Only one.
I never know, if I’ll stay or when I’ll go.

It’s dizzying,
Tied to this piece of string
Of a child,
Whose temperament goes wild.
Unable to control
Their yoyo.
My life.
My yoyo. So,
I never know, when I’ll stay or if I’ll go
Up or Down.

And bouncing in between,
Never finding my feet,
Is a sickening carnival ride
That’s strangely incomplete.
Unbalanced inside.

To have one or the other,
Or sometimes both, confusing,
Too much emotional bruising.
The reverse of a junkie
Wanting their next fix.
Not me, no, no, not me,
I don’t want, I don’t want,
I don’t want it.

What if I find that I just can’t take,
I can’t stand any more and I finally break?
My mind to my Wonderland then take,
Put a ‘vacancy’ sign on my forehead,
Sit by the marshmallow lake.

Well we always knew I was crazy,
It was never a question of maybe.
Now all they ever ask of me:
“At this very moment, what is she?”

you know?

Eminently awkward in prosaic propensity, even explicit explanations end entwined in endless enigma.

I speak such phrases that resound in silver clarion within my eyes and mind, yet return to me merely distorted echoes of confusion and poor Chinese Whispers of misunderstood riddles.

I am a stranger in this world and speak no part of any language I encounter.

And I do not understand.

This is me, starting a conversation.

This is me, screaming in your face.

This is me, begging for help.

This is me, bleeding before you.

 why
                can't
          you
                             hear
         me?


insomnia

Where art thou Morpheus?
I seek Lethe and no other,
Guidance and
Protection from Thanatos
Thy brother.

Rivers five, so similar,
I may confuse
And in my earnest haste for
Oblivion, choose
Poorly to my dismay.

So for the briefest moment,
Guide my way.
Clutch’d tight is my
Fare for the ferryman….


*snap*

Just like that,
Lost amongst the names,
Labels, and designations,
Unable to tell which parts
Of herself were herself,
She snapped her pencil in two.
And like the pencil,
Broke in half her sanity,
Emotions, and
Ability to care.

bipolar bicycle

I’m riding my old bike again.
It was only a matter of time I suppose.
I ride it around every place that I go,
Sometimes quite quickly, other times slow,
And it’s hard to get up those steep hills don’t you know,
But when I go down, just look at me go.
Yeah, rapid cycling.

set in our ways..

Don’t you think it’s strange
How we shift, change, rearrange,
Everything we can, but stay the same?

How each of us ourselves behoove
To grow, move, further improve,
Strive and strive, yet we never arrive.

We tell ourselves that all our pain
Is part of life, to strain and gain,
How accepting we all are.

Before we grow too old,
Grow cold, end stuck in a mold,
Are we able to break free?

Well to show you that I can:
I just rhymed carrot
With banana.

Que Sera, Sera

When I was quite young,
Only a pup,
People would ask me
When I grew up,
What would I be?
Where would I go?
I had an idea,
Didn’t quite know.

But it wasn’t this.

It was never this.

silver kisses

I’m on my way down,
A slow and broken sinking.
Watch me as I drown
In the depths of overthinking.

Silver kisses touch on skin,
Exquisitely and softly.
Touch, but delve so deeply in.
So very costly.

Crimson roses blossom out,
Nourished from within.
Bright red petals forming
Morbid fractals on my skin.

I wonder how many flowers
Are left within to see..
Or if you ever drowned
Inside your mind like me..

relax, don’t do it..

Bottle uncorked
But I’m nonetheless eloquent,
Netflix left-handed,
So hand me a cigarette.
Don’t do no crystal,
Anyways least not yet.
Right about now
I’m as fucked-up as ima get.
Chilled.
Seems so pathetic,
Seems so unreal.
To relax, I need my brain
Half-fucking killed.

Cognitive Lobotomy

I gave the doctor all the pieces of my mind,
Hardly an undivulged thought left behind.

‘Oh Alice my dear, this simply won’t do.
I’ll tell you what’s what, for I’m smarter than you’.

And he smiled as he tore away all that I’d said,
I felt sick as he planted his thoughts in my head.

For I’d said what I thought, and I’d thought what I said,
But now he thought to think my thoughts for myself instead.

He said ‘things might get sad and I’ll tell you why:
I’m afraid the Alice you know, now has to die.

I’ll give you some tablets, take one every day,
And soon you’ll find that this Alice has faded away.

And then you’ll be cured! Shiny and new!
A whole brand new person. Though I couldn’t say who.

red

Red..
Scattered drops,
The orange light of a life, burning.
That scarlet spark.
Approach
Your perfect moment on the ledge.
You lied to keep me in thrall,
To give us another day without sorrow.
But I smell tangerines..

makes sense..

If I write things for myself,
And I like what I have writ,
But hating myself wholly
Is, I must admit,
A fundamental part of me,
At least the largest bit.
Reason and logic would therefore dictate,
That anything I ever write or create,
Is something I should hate..

Diagnostic Label

I wish I didn’t have to,
But I wish that I could prove
I’m not some social label
You can just stick on,
Or simply remove.

Don’t you see?
My diagnosis isn’t me.

I’m not pills inside a bottle
Or high upon a shelf.
I never hurt nobody,
I would rather hurt myself.

No one understands me,
But that’s no big surprise.
Claiming to know someone’s soul
Is only telling lies

True, it isn’t easy,
Sometimes it’s bloody tough,
You have dig below the surface
To find diamonds in the rough.

I’m so exquisitely fucked up, it’s true.
But probably no more than you.

Religiosity..Pass.

As children we were taught
That god in heaven thought
We all should drown.

Everyone should drown?
Well listen to that sound:
That’s me drowning now.

Later they would tell
Of heaven and of hell.
How to find The Right Gate.

Well they’re far too late,
Maybe you can’t tell
But I already found hell.
I didn’t need to wait.

As for gods’ only son
Dying for our sinning..
I may not have been sinning,
But baby, this is me beginning.

S

Been standing on street corners
And bridges high.
Staring at the clouds.

Been waiting on tall buildings
And railway lines
All over town.

I admit it’s not much of a plan.
But I’m seeking Superman.

Someone said he left for good,
Others said he died.
I really hope that’s not the case,
That he just partially retired.
I’d like to meet him face to face,
I really need to be inspired.

Seems all I’m left with are
False hopes,
Tied tightly to the end of
Long ropes
In the shape of a hangman’s noose.

I’ve practised the knot at least
Ninety-five times,
No way it will ever come loose.

I just need to find Superman.
I don’t expect to him to save me,
And I doubt that he knows how.
I just wanted to say hi,
Maybe ask if he could fly
Me to the edge of space,
To see the earth from a better place.
I don’t like the view down here.

So I’m waiting near phonebooths
And plane wrecks,
So far there’s nothing to see.

Maybe I’ll become a Crime Lord,
Ruthless..
And then he’ll come looking for me.

I, Humpty

I can tell by your tone
There’ll be no picket fence.
You try for casual discourses,
But I just hear King’s Horses
Assembling.
Eggshell amour,
My only defense
Against all your King’s Men.
I saw that wall,
From which no one could fall,
There’s yolk on your hand,
For somebody planned
The whole thing you see.
Humpty was pushed.
And now you plan to push me.

Alice Insane

Oh no, is Alice insane?
Has she gone off,
Had any,
Or taken too many,
Of her massive number of tablets again?

Look at them lovingly lined up in rows,
So many highs and so many lows,
Looking like Skittles,
No taste of rainbows.

What was that thing that she said?
There’s too much space inside of her head
Filled up with noisy silence?
With too much peaceful violence?

It’s so tiring, trying, falling, failing,
Draining to seem normal now.
They say ‘don’t try to be normal then’.
But if now is then, then where and when
Should I cease to cease being social again?

Don’t compare me.
I only compare myself,
Not to looks or wealth,
But to how many dues you have to pay
Just to live through every day.

bipolar stairs

Alice sat weeping,
Staircase contemplated.
Compelled to climb.
Emotions complicated, and
Not nearly enough cake.

Now was bleeding.
Skin from hands and knees amiss,
For every single day
She was forced to do this:
Climb the winding stair.

Upwardly optimistic,
Scaling heights oft tall,
Stairs constantly collapsing,
And down, down she’d fall,
In a violent, painful tumble.

Always the choice to remake:
Lie in a heap forever and ever,
Or clamber to her feet
To repeat the endeavour.
After a lifetime, she stood.

perchance to dream..

Twisted sheets and I’m so tired,
My face hurts when I fake a smile.
I wish that I could fall asleep
For just a little while.

Passing hour seventy-two,
My mind has come undone.
I don’t know what I should do,
I can’t stand anyone.

My thoughts become disjointed now,
They make no sense at all.
A thousand whirling whispers
Like wind blown leaves in Fall.

Now I’ve started seeing
Things that can’t be real.
Things that cease to bother,
I no longer care or feel.

Well, the drugs don’t work,
I hear they make you worse,
Although I may well have
Hallucinated that whole verse.

My soul aches, my mind breaks.
I’m sounding like a Beatles’ song.
How long until I go insane?
I’m sure it won’t be long..

stigma

I always thought you understood
The twists inside my head.
Not as a navigator would,
But sort of where they led.

But now I see that all the while,
You drank their Kool-Aid too,
And kept behind your plastic smile,
Things I never knew you never knew.

Now you look at me as they do,
It empties out my chest.
The one who hasn’t got a clue,
Should have known me best.

“pick out your cloud”

Who knew
The sky held such a vast array of blues,
Until you cut open my universe
And took out all the hues?

Who knew
My heart held so much trust,
Until you emptied out my chest
And filled the cavity with dust?

You knew.
I should have known it too.
That you kept track all along ,
To whom everything belonged.

Now I know too.
Cos I’d been thinking this whole time,
In words like ‘us’ and ‘ours’,
Now reduced to merely ‘mine’.

I’ll take mine black

Too often
These cooling cups of tea
Bring darker thoughts instead,
Of empty eyes
And lukewarm baths,
Filled with swirling red.

Of the slow drip-dripping
Onto a tiled floor.
Alongside all these feelings
That have no metaphor.
No way to describe..
Being dead inside.

drink me

I gave you my love, I’m sure that’s right,
But your disregard came sealed up tight
In tiny bottles, labels white,
Saying ‘drink me’.

I trusted you then,
When I was stronger and taller,
But each dose you gave
Only made me feel smaller.

I took your ‘drink me’ every day,
’til I was so small,
I just faded away..

Empty

I could walk into the ocean
And swallow it all down.
Yet never drown.
Such emptiness within abides,
Ne’er filled or shape descried
By endless changing tides.
A thousand suns devoured,
Galaxies all scoured,
To universes’ end and back,
Would not fill what I lack.

The Forest

If a girl screams in the forest,
With no-one else around,
Does she make a sound?
If no-one sees her body fall,
Does she hit the ground?
If she loses all her bearings
Does she still feel down?
If she’s flooded by emotion
Do you think she’ll drown?

the most right..

Peculiar how our mutual plight
Of the helpful things to do,
Became a competition and a wedge
Between me and they and you.

Everyone knows best,
No arguments allowed.
Just you and your ego
Because three’s a crowd.

No single pathway to the end,
I’m sure there’s quite a few,
But unless I’m just a moral clone,
Who cares what others do?

Everyone needs validation,
The fight for higher ground.
Common sense goes on vacation,
The world burns to the ground.

Genetically modified veganism,
Antivaxers and egotism
Sadistic female circumcision,
Innocents are sent to prison.

So let’s sit and debate about
Who is most insulted.
And those of us who dare protest
Will surely be assaulted.

So fuck all of this black and white,
And who is more correct than right.
The first thing they should teach in class
Is how to get your head out of your ass.

Are we what?

Selfish genes and viral memes,
Evolutionary replication machines.
Can we decide that we want to be more,
Or are we defined by what came before?

How much choice is ours to make?
How much part does genetics take?
Are we the sum of our parts,
Or just some of our parts?

smile

I died a little more today,
A smile on my face,
Nothing seeming out of place
Secretly not ok.

Part of my insides withered away,
While grinning all the time,
Just pretending that I’m fine,
Secretly not ok.

No I can’t come out to play,
I need a place to hide,
Somewhere I can die inside,
Secretly not ok.

the lake

Daughter of Autumn
Entered the lake.
Slowly, gently,
No ripple in wake.

Nightgown tied tightly
To a lifetime of sorrow,
To rocks and stones, and
A book she had borrowed.

She whimsically wished
There were waterlillies.

Shook uncontrollably,
Sobbing within,
Icy water passed over her chin.
Gave herself into the water..

Cries no more, Autumn’s Daughter.

fireflies

Got my pockets full-up
For a firefly summer.
Treats to attract tiny
Burgeoning stars.
Though truthfully,
Not every chocolate bar
Will be so sacrificial.
Such thoughts
Get me through the day.
Stained brown pockets and a
Happiness cliché.

Garbage

Been left out with the trash,
But what else could I do?
I’m filled with the hate
I keep getting from you.

You keep disregarding and
Discarding my dreams,
Yet you’re still blind that
I’m torn at the seams.

You fill me with waste,
Don’t even know what you’ve done.
And the more you force in,
The less I become.

Now it’s so toxic,
Everything that you do,
You can’t even see
You’ve made me toxic too.

So I’m here with the waste,
Nothing else I can do,
I’m so full inside, but
I’m so empty too.

take the blue pill..

So I killed a girl.
Gave her medication
And a grey, grey world.

Now she’s one of the walking dead,
Echoes of emptiness
Filling her head.

I come across her everyday
In reflections I chance to see.
She just won’t leave or go away..

Because she’s me.

Heartbroken Hands..

Heartbroken hands
Whispered
Confessions of crystalline aches.
Bends, breaks, mistakes.
An icy affinity for cracking.

Wrote heartbroken hands
‘I have darkness’.
They found her broken letters and verse,
Ending with the trembling words
Writ in blood-stained ink: ‘I am lacking’.

Morning

Sunlight smiled,
Dressed the dawn
In splendour, added
Highlights to her hair.
Spread her gown across the land,
Became the day.

Why bother?

Jump on in.
Did you think this time
You would finally swim?

Sink on down.
Just like the last time,
You’re going to drown.

The sea’s too wide.
You know you can’t make it,
You’ve already tried.

Run and hide.
One day you’ll realise
You’ve already died.

A little everything..

I’m only a bit of a failure,
But failure is failure you see,
The way any size hole is a hole,
The way that I’m always me.

And I’m only a little messed up,
The way rain is a little bit wet,
And I’m only a little bit better,
But I’m not very better yet.

A little bit broken is broken,
How long is a piece of string?
A little bit crazy is crazy, and
I’m a little bit everything.

New Day

Morning finds me seated
Upon the stair in soft repose,
And so remain unmoving
To bide the time from whence I rose,
There to await the days’ fickle pleasure.

Today is..(still)

Today is still an ocean,
Depression, Sirens’ song.
Although I’m holding to the mast,
I’ve never been that strong.

My strength is fading quickly,
My grip is growing weak,
All the crew just stand aside
And watch me, super-freak.

Always feeling like an outcast
Makes me wonder why I struggle.
So much for my ocean,
I think I’m drowning in a puddle.

Falling Apart..

I wake up every morning,
And I get up just because.
Each time, I am something less
Than something that I was.

My fingers’, cut and bleeding
From picking off the floor,
Tiny broken splinters
Of what I was before.

Days of endless madness
Hardly knowing what I do.
Sudden chills of horror
When I realize what is true.

My mind is like the construct
The poet Yeats foretold:
‘Things fall apart;
the centre cannot hold’.

Got a feeling..

I am not myself, several times a day,
If you’ve never felt like this,
You may think that’s ok.
But I’ve got a feeling,
This will never change.
How many times in a day
Can sanity rearrange?
Because I’ve got a feeling,
It’s too much to take.
There’s only so many times it bends
Before the willow breaks.

Abstract #1

The fall of darkness finds
Everyone judged, sleeping in sheets
Of dishonest dreams and cool disdain.
You said you drew night nearer
Because it’s that dark endless piece,
The one from the edge of the world,
Beyond where sanity lies.

Empty Chairs

I have too many empty chairs,
Empty coffee cups,
Endless stares.
The aching feeling no one cares,
Just empty hallways, empty stairs.

There are too many empty places,
Vacant spots
Where there should be faces,
Nothing but the faintest traces,
Faded postcards, old suitcases.

No one calling on the phone,
No one asking
If I’m home.
Just an endless dial tone

Missing

=

The universe is out my window,
The stars all shine and the moon hangs low,
And I wonder where the parts of me go,
When I’m not myself, the self I know.

When I’m busy being someone different,
Parts of me wonder where parts of me went,
Where was myself for the time that I spent
No longer at home, not paying the rent?

So while myself was out to play,
I sat and idled my time away,
Where I went I cannot say,
I hope I had a pleasant day.

And now myself is home again,
I’ve been here since who knows when,
Where will I be in the end?
If I find out, I’ll tell you then.

Today is..

Today is an ocean,
Declared freshly formed
By the clocks’ relentless rotation,
Yet already I drown.
Dragged under by possibilities.
Some already lost,
Others to be found,
All of them are heavy,
And this ship is going down.