In Forever

The screaming doesn’t phase me

I can match you with that

and the anger, it doesn’t bother me

I’ve felt it before

seen it in your eyes

I’ve grown used to smiling

laughing through the lies.

My life was not made for you to rip apart.

I’m not helpless just because I fell into your arms and when no one would hold me.

Now, I’m free

free to see whatever I want

whoever I want

without your shadow looming over every decision I make.

I was vulnerable

I was alone

I confused your possession with love

allowing you to manoeuvre your way into my life

my breath

my-

I wake up most mornings, sometimes it’s more like the afternoon

and I breathe along with the birds

as they chirp a chorus I cannot understand.

Peace.

Quiet.

Everything’s singing a tune of its own and freedom wraps its arms around me for the first time

in forever.

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Crisis

The sound-

I hate the way it sounds-

screams

it vibrates through my brain

and out

out into the nothingness

finally able to make its home

somewhere

somewhere, the sound lingers

in a place I can’t recognise

nor do I want to.

I’m safe

the danger’s separated itself from my worries

I’m safe

alone, in a room they keep calling mine

nothing feels like mine

like I own it

everything’s someone else’s

I’ve never possessed anything apart from

this breath

these hands

the worries circling above my head

they’re mine.

All mine.

Resistance to Li f e

Something happened the day I convinced myself I had a talent

I started lying to myself

I believed the voice inside my head

I listened and all it did was grow

watering itself with my thoughts

it grew

and I couldn’t stop it

not once it took on a shape of its own

it was no longer my…thinking

it was my enemy

standing inches away from my face

the ego I’d created

the lie I’d spun

coming to life

just to prove I was no one

nothing was to happen

nothing was to become.

Now, I ask myself no questions

receiving no lies

I can finally rest

listening to the rise

and fall of my breath.

I can rest.

Mondays Feel Like Wednesdays

Strange, I thought I was getting better

I thought my life was starting to fall into place

things were starting to make sense

I understood the nature of my emotions

I learnt that nothing meant nothing

everything meant something

so, why am I still here?

Why am I still stuck?

I can see the door, it’s open

but I’m crawling through mud to reach it

and my legs are hurting

I’m not a quitter but I feel like quitting

so what? Sue me

I have nothing to my name

bleed me dry, I’d still look the same

dead behind the eyes

overweight

under the weather, whilst the rain pours over

and over my head.

Strange, I thought I was getting better

I thought I was dead.

What a shame.

Taking Care

Dead is the night

as it clings to my back

and dead are these thoughts

that remain in my mind

untouched, clean

they stay, in the corners I can’t reach

just to mock

to tease

they laugh at my misfortune.

I’m attempting to rebuild

start anew

turn the page and see white

instead of blue

I want to be different

see light within the dark

no longer longing for the night to wrap its arms around my chest

I want to get better

I want to be the best

or do whatever I can

whatever, it doesn’t matter

as long as I matter

it doesn’t matter.

I’m not too sure where I’m going with this

but I’ve gone somewhere

I just need to find my way back.

Promises I Make

I will show my face at your birthday party.

I’ll find the time to answer the phone.

I won’t pretend I’m busy in a futile attempt to remain alone.

I’ll apologise when asked.

I’ll love when needed.

I’ll cry on command.

I will live the words I write.

Excuses will leave my mind.

My mind will become open to the world.

I won’t hide away.

I promise.

I promise, I won’t.

/ / / /

Poetry doesn’t flow from my veins like before

I try to force it out

I try to focus

I try to distract myself from the looming self-doubt that drifts around my mind

as I make promises, rules I promise to stick to

I can’t help but forget

whilst remembering

whilst forgetting

whilst…

everything will sort itself out

I will sort myself out

and everything

is everything.

Block of Dreams

There’s something in the air. I can taste something within the air. What is it? It’s…

I’m running through water; shallow water, it’s just-about reaching my ankles. Not deep, not deep at all. And I know how to swim, I don’t know why I’m panicking but I am, I’m panicking.

Dreams, they have this funny way of explaining so much whilst also explaining nothing.
Confused, I stumble through the water, looking for answer, an explanation; a reason for running. I find nothing. The depths of my brain lay buried under thick, heavy clouds; I’m waiting for rain in the desert.

And there’s something here, something that I can’t figure out and I want to; I so desperately want to know what I’m running from, what I’m trying to drown.
What’s that taste within the air?

I’m having trouble focusing. My hands are shaking. I try to light a cigarette. No. There’s an empty pack in my back pocket. Nothing else. I could’ve sworn I had two left.

Back to running. The water’s disappeared, sand’s now beneath my feet and I’m running. It’s a lot easier to run on sand than it is water. Noted. Begin again. Breath heavy. Heart racing.

My mind struggles to form sentences longer than-

There’s something in the air. I can taste something within the air; it’s resting on my tongue, allowing me a taste of whatever’s to come; what is it? I thought I was dreaming, I thought- I think a lot, never once do I act and take control of the thoughts that loom in my head.

I’m sick, I know this. I’m ill and no one’s listening. Maybe…maybe they’d listen if I was pretty? Beautiful? Worth more than just an empty breath? These dreams, they comfort me, when I’m on the cusp of sleep; they pull me away from my thoughts, into a world of hope, where the air tastes of promise and doesn’t burn the back of my throat.

This was meant to make sense, I can’t seem to do that anymore

sorry