I see images
Far away from personal space
Hiding in the shadows.
The corner of my eye
Natural reflexes spin wildly,
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
Between the lines the whispers seek solice
Gratitude of time to be heard,
Only believers feel the undercurrent,
A background humm instigating alternatives
Revealing variations of living,
Walking to rather then standing still,
As a species we live sad
Of the impending eventuality who awaits us,
Our conscious pulls to fearing wait of death,
Dragging down certain minds
Forcing own hands
Bringing forward their premature demise,
Listen to the unconscious reasoning
That deduces this gift should be praised,
We have no say in birth or death
Our only control succeeds as we grow
A Choice to dictate character with emotion,
The advice buried in our soul lays active
Expanding the mind reveals the signs,
Live life blinded in black and white
Or thrive in the wonderment that breathes,
Between the lines.
6 was the magic number
Or was it 3 and 12?
Always stuck to evens 4,8,16
But odds I sometimes delved
13, 23 filled me with dread
10’s good but 5 is great
Why not Friday 14th instead?
3’s nicely rounded, so is 8
666 is evil, but it’s an even number
Confused what I’m doing this 4
Bakers dozen shouldn’t be allowed
999 no help at all
A multiple gift that comes for 3?
20, 25, multiply and subtract
6 and 9 are upside down,
Leap year not sure how to react
60 mins, 60 seconds, why not 100?
19:24 is a digital clock pain
5 gold rings and checking things
13’s unlucky and 7’s fulls of vain
4, 8, 12, straight flush
The perfect number, where’s it 2?
School maths, a 45 degree nightmare
3 × 3 trigonometry, had to see it through
Why 3 pigs and 3 bears?
7 years bad luck or magnificent?
1 never seems ever enough
And what’s after 100 percent?
Adapt, arrange, ÷ on repeat
3, 6, no improvement with evolution
With OCD no matter the equation,
The answer is never the end solution.
Reaching out to a gift
So high the guardians sit on clouds,
A emerald sky emanating so much light
Even the kings are forced to bow.
Emotions hallucinate with such glory
Celebrate and dance with relief,
Grief has been their prisoner for so long
Torturing the emptiness of belief.
Life is first only to choice
Freedom conquering death,
Eyes forced to view in perspective
The lost souls, our loss would of left.
It’s not for us equals to judge
How connected ties choose to live,
Selfish minds will always act to survive
All we can do is forgive.
A thought ‘What if,
Revealed as A gift
From the devil,
Once hearing the words
They can’t be unheard.
Statement for the foolish
Whose beliefs fall inside comfort,
Where only black and white exists
Living Joy swapped for awkwardness
Motivated and elated
Until intrusive doubt hits,
Irrational thoughts whisper
‘What if, what if’
Spoiling a moment on high
Disfiguring the feeling
Of laughing to a cry
Humour swamped by fear,
Freedom put in pockets
Until the unsuspecting host
Lays in wait for a chemical reprieve
From a biological resolution
A Pill to recieve.
When tablets run dry
Whose there to clear the sky
From the blue clouds,
Frustrated on a belief so false
Constantly Irritates general functions,
The guilt hurts the most
Unsuspectingly the will gives in,
It Surrenders to the voices
That bring emotions of doom
To the places where you once sang,
The choice from this time
Is not whether to run or fight,
Curl up and freeze,
Its whether to jump or hang
While sanity meanders
Character is subjected to slanders
Years afraid of lies once said
Sits quiet as physicality deflates to dead
Please my dear, Don’t be afraid
When it’s made,
The bed of the departed
Set and warm,
Lay down as eternity beckons
Crossing arms for forever seconds
Shoulder weight lifts
As responsibility shifts,
To the air
The burdened fatally shared
Promises spoken by the mouth of her
Deadly silent defines the breath is over
No more clashes as substance becomes ashes,
Tears and sadness as silence reaks
Chaos lives while the devil speaks,
With him she shares a fitted box
Relief and confusion as no more she knocks.