Love in crazy

This poem was written on a beach where I was in a place of confusion. Just like being at the beach, it has beautiful scenery but my mind was in a state of mixed emotions and suffering with OCD.

Being in love for the first time but doubting if the feeling is real. Because the only true emotion I was feeling was anxiety and pain, I always doubted a lighter, happier feeling because it felt like a trick or another obsession as the way with my life. I didn’t trust or believe myself.

When I came round and realised maybe I should act on my emotions and when you begin a relationship it’s hard to keep it going, always looking over the shoulder waiting for the next doubt or attack or if they have figured out that I’m living on the edge of panic.
In the end the pattern that followed me was that I ended most relationships early before they ended with me, as I assumed they would.

So this poem is about having an anxious, mixed up mind and then the feeling of love thrown in and dealing with that.
Here it is Love in Crazy…

Love in Crazy

The heart rendered like a king
Tall, stout and impressive
Evaporating all like a sponge
Past, present, resoundingly obsessive

With each new wave the strings get taunt
Feeling loose, but always holds
A break can be repaired
Or just a myth, that’s been re-told

Eye connections are real
The soul gets mystified
One Love, one other heart to feel
No more can be justified

A timeless lone night lays deep
Coupling and souling a must
Or forever be left in eternal limbo
Heart and mind turning to dust

Running parallel, so very close
A touch sickly, like a vertigo ride
Hearing and speech become an echo
In and out, rhythm of the tide

Is this truth, or is it false?
Love and anguish, my mind they share
Working through, but by default
In both worlds, I have to bare.







Avoid all, still not missed
Replays of friends who still exist
Thoughts cloudy of partners kissed
Many reunions, not on list
A ghost alive in this time
Head an alarm, heart a chime
Mortality clouds an open head
Life be easier without dread
Flashbacks penetrate, hard sharp funnel
Retreating briefly, a deafly tunnel

Boredom, no loneliness
Bordering mad, bordering mess
Panic rises, need more haste
Blood spilled, leaves bad taste
Cut on skin, scrape on mind
A bloody favour, being kind

Impulse brings clammy splatters
Wall, floor, neither matters
Ceramic sink tainted red
Shallow cut, far from dead
Choice made, closer to life
Drop blade, clean stained knife
Fighting with each shallow breath
Retreat from the near bitter death

Admit faltering defeat, move from shock to motion
Fallout with breaths, wash scars with rain
Expect the time that will define the future,
Of being able to face the mirror image again.


30 years with OCD and anxiety, along with agoraphobia thrown in, it wasn’t an easy start or middle to my youth.

I’ve struggled my whole life with who I am, whose the real me? I was lucky to have found people that listened and didn’t judge. That was step one for me, proof that there are people out there that encourage and help instead of being critical.

Throughout my struggles my only outlet was music and writing poetry. A lot of what I’ve written was produced when I was in some very dark places.

Now having found a great therapist and a great book, I am now in a good place and have the coincidence to put these out for people to read.

They are painful, truthful but come from a very honest place.

I try to keep it real and if it feels to risky I use it. Thank you for reading…


Colour blind

Its a horrible place to be,
When cries for help are not heard,
Even though I’m silently spoken,
I say it with a written word

It’s a void empty place, your mind,
The rational side has been sent,
Too hard for others to comprehend,
How I felt before the event

An idea that sticks, a plan to escape,
From life and this mortal coil,
Make peace with myself and the world,
Lay down early and be one with the soil

A point of no return or light,
The feeling that it won’t get any better,
I’m sure of it myself, but can’t speak,
So I leave it in a belated letter

To feel in this state seemed impossible
Hearing other achieving makes it feel real,
Clouds the mind with doubt and injustice,
Current plans and thoughts bring up a chill

Left behind would be unconditional love,
But I’m blind behind my tormented mask,
Maybe I have to go there to come back,
To seek help and be able to ask.

A Space in Time

One thing is forever infinite in life
People will persevere to knock you down
But the resilience will just increase
And the king shall wear the crown

A jealous mind turns easily shallow
Empty words used to make you cry
Invisible strangers use free will for offence
I shall use it as fuel to fly

As with sad being used to bring out the happy,
Critical is used to bring up the best
Only the future can be re-written
Unjustified insults are used as a test

Lack of understood breeds humoured insult
Honesty is a gift but abuse is attack
A hollow joke hits a hard shell
Gets through defence, but doesn’t knock back

Everyone’s acceptance I don’t want to achieve
I’m just a simple man with a story to tell
When it comes to wearing my heart on my sleeve,
Then for that, maybe I’m guilty as hell.

Storm Never Came (Suicide lays dormant)

Balance is one of life’s skills
Steering a ship through a perfect storm
The ideal happening is to be still
In todays world, that’s not the norm.

To find the perfect place in life,
Peace, warmth and tranquillity
Opposite feels like a sharp knife,
or out of breath, bottom of the sea

Weighing up the moments of our time
Mood dependant on rain or shine
Mind topples with the weight of it all,
Playful imaginings, turning suicidal

Would it hurt to give nature a nudge,
Hoping survival wouldn’t bare a grudge
If fate steps in and breaks my fall,
I could land on middle ground I wasn’t looking for

Feeling drunk when not even drinking
On solid ground, but inside sinking
Point of no return is not forgiving
Decisions near death, as hard as near living

I knew someone who acted on doubt,
So I’ve always seen it as a way out.

I started to worry when my mind went quiet,
So this is my idea of a spoken riot,
Putting it all down for all to see,
How this was an option, taken seriously

Looking at it now, it feels of nonsense
In death, I never wanted life on my conscience
I talked, I listened, I called my own bluff,
Luckily for me, in the end, enough was never enough