Reflection

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 cùt, 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 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.

Black box

I have no advice for you my friend
Apart from – I have been to the darkness
And came back better.
I saw the lowest a soul can get
While still breathing
And survived to tell my story.
We are unique and so is our escape.
Place a hand in front of the other
And find your key,
The one aspect of you
That unlocks the trapdoor of emptiness,
Brings a warmth to the cold corner
To which you sit.

I have no advice for you my friend
Apart from don’t believe in the four sides
That holds you.
There is more to life than being stuck,
Living behind the eyes
With the illusion
Life resembles an black box.

You are a spark among many,
So show your unique colour
And I promise,
You will no longer question or doubt,
Your ability to rise.

Dreams can come true

Thinking is nights blinking
Keeping awake the conscience
Alerting panic to stand by
Even though it’s a lie.
Sanity briefly held together
By a strand of rationality
That’s left in a reality.
Would I really do this
Could this really happen?
No not today, or ever,
But the mind lives it as truth
Senses and heart in overdrive
Bringing death closer through neglect.
The body lives by the heads guidance
Believing the false inevitable,
Asking what’s the use
In carrying on towards oblivion
As an supposed evil or fractured person
In this squalor we call freedom.
If the eyes saw what the body felt
The shock would kill the soul,
The hand would let blood flow,
Flooding the sanctuary of the mind
Until there can be no more questioning,
No Arguing or inner struggles with ones self.
Is it best to surrender prematurely
Instead of forever defining
Peoples altered perspectives of love and hate?.
Its tiring,
I wish I had the strength to just lay down and die
And release my soul, to this unknown fate.

Flavour

Senses turning against reality
Honing in on the rotten
Overpowering any sweetness
Polluting the mind
Affecting the body.

The anxiety appears in sweat
Soaking the bare clothes
Saturating any social events
With toxic thinking
Turning to toxic odours.

Thoughts say I’m unkempt
It realeases as a truth in wetness
Soaking my life from the pits.
Buts it’s an illusion of the brain
Worrying about the future event
Causing anxiety to rise
And for the flood to come true.

My depressive scent
Separates me from society
Isolates me from possible relationships
Forcing my hand to Stay indoors
Showering the stink away
Countless times a day.
In that moment I’m clean
Until I step outside the door
Then sweat begins once more,
Overpowering any soap
Giving a sensation and urge
To peel away the skin.

Saviour was a biological solution
Leading to side effects of the body,
But at least that phase of life ran dry
Causing a drought of the body.
Finially one less worry from inside my shell.
Anxiety still condemned me
Not to leave the house
But in my own company at least,
My fragrance didn’t smell.

Paradise

Man said ‘I will listen’
But hear he does not,
A trampled soul shouts for mortality
The world falls deaf,
A false leap is threatened
The crowd go blind,

We drain the rivers
After the soul has drowned,
Pump the stomach
When life is empty,
And break down bridges
To bury the skeleton.

Local guilt heals with time
And becomes no crime,
In the aftermath signs were seen
And remorse takes over.
At this point
‘Ask for help’ they say
But fear suffocates any voice

And even though
Life is at half mast
Balanced on the tip of no return
Hope falls heavily to the side of silence,
Irrationality persuades the mind
To now just save the breath,
Use final energy to rebound fear
Summon a last act of courage,
Find peace in the unknown
And walk closer to death.

Psycho

Impotence a form of defence
The minds subtle persuasion towards avoidance,
To fight the feeling of this false protection
We must lash out
And lash out we will,
Destroying relationships and bonds until…
It becomes too much
Forcing the tightrope to shake,
That is why impotence slows the will
Suffocates belief to a warped state
Of self preservation,
Saving what we fear the most,
Rejection and heart break.

Living with the depression
Begs us to ask the question
‘What else could we of become?’
But the mind sees through these lies,
Highlights the subconscious excuse
Then buries it.
But you can’t un-ring the bell
Truth lyes in the feelings,
Struggles with the muddy dealings
Of survival.
Sorely and painfully, knowledge sets us free,
Thriving, never arriving without pain.

We then live in the mire of regret,
A trap of anxiety to reboot,
But never re-enter that game
Patiently walk to the clearing,
Acknowledge allowance it’s normal to fall,
Allow that voice that your hearing
And be the version of yourself
That you first once saw.

A passing Goodbye

One minute I was falling
The next I was free
In an expanse of wonder
A place of my dreams

Parade through the valley
Breathe amongst the flowers
Living here is magical
A second lasts for hours

I love exploring the fields
Where the horses run
I’ve only just arrived
It’s feels I belong

I dance among the trees
Shake the fruit from above
I sing with the birds
The song is full of love

I lye down in the grass
I look up to the sky
An echo rings my ears
Of you saying goodbye

A life gone full circle
An innocence released
I’ll miss and be missed
Though my heart is at peace.

Stitches

When asleep

It’s peace as in death

No dreams or feeling

Nothing.

Surgery sends the mind

To limbo

Breathing though vacant in thought.

Split second coma

Opens the conscious

Letting the present seep out

Keeping pain away.

Fate in surgeons hands

The fear dying in silent mystery

Surrender myself to a higher power

I am yours to mend or destroy.

Awoken by strangers after long hours

Wiping free the blood from stains

Of the stitches which tell the story

Why metal was wrapped around veins.

Look

I see images
Far away from personal space
Hiding in the shadows.
The corner of my eye
Feels movement,
Natural reflexes spin wildly,
On sighted
A shape
Transforms with haste
Back to benign.

Something insidious is watching
Rousing my senses
Alerting my suspicions.
Paranoia becomes a suspect
Though clean living proves
The mind is all powerful and complex
When left to wander freely
And without forced encouragement.

When will the process erupt
From viewing shapes
To hearing voices,
I’m scared I’ll answer
Scared of its suggestions
Of convincing me to believe
They exist in life not just my reality.
I see images elevate back from the dead
Convincing my mind
It’s not just, all in my head

Cleansing

Giant footsteps brings me close
To the running water of gold
An endless stream of choice
Where life can be brought and sold.

My face turned stagnant in the waves
Tell me, am I me still?
Drowning alive has withdrawn my face
My reflection sizing up the kill.

Sinking as a dropping stone
Forever laid alive and cold
Wash away the sins I’ve made
My saviour this running water of gold.