Changes

The mind is adept at its own pretence
When a foreseeable ending claws at its sense
Rapid spate of change is hard to allow
Crystal clear thoughts deviate from the brow
An uncontrolled destined moment in time
Perspectives of honesty bring up the divine
Amnesiac spaces previous and after
Brings the transition not nearer nor faster

Change sparks defence to raise fully clad
Denial, like a sane man humouring the mad
A rapid such ending wretches the soul
Pulls what we possess to never let go
Our sleepless gut instinct repulses the last
Repelling an echo of struggles near past
For even the efficient an ending feels strange
A limbo state not desiring to change

An unconscious unknown steadily beckons
Lifetime of intake, although its just seconds
Confusion is ripe though doesn’t persist
Without endings your presence wouldn’t exist
On ponder a moment which presents a choice
An alternate view to retain a lost voice
Reflect to proceed, an perceptive mind wins
Determine an ending, is where a new first begins.

Illusion of safety

Waiting but it’s already here
The dark space to which I crawl
Pushing to escape this prison,
The boundaries on which I draw

Smiling but I’m already dead
Internally an empty house of glass
Every step, a step too far
Painful to survive, to forever last

Thinking but the thought has stuck
An enemy of autonomy and will
I’m safe in my compulsive home
Never to breathe, never too kill

History but not the present
Happy with my compulsive lie
Only one certainty calms my soul
I will not live, I will not die.

Blurred Senses

Spinning the wheel, the reaper misses
A spectral hand pulls and kisses,
With poison lips and endless throat,
Drags you from a lifeless boat
To a place that reeks of bad sanitation
Blessed it’s all in my imagination
Suppose it’s real? but distant are my senses
Anxiety guards take charge, barriers and high fences,
To grasp back the fearing constant scream,
That causes nerves, if only a dream
Tosses and turns, fashions the body to react
If it’s in all our head, is our heads intact?
I see, hear, touch and occasionally feel
Thoughts are thoughts, whys this so real?
Stood still in the cold, wear wet as a crown
Eyes glare at fill line, gaping to drown
Wake up you fool, no more I can bare!
Reality hits of the still waking nightmare.

Two Halves

Two halves
You may think these words are heavy
It’s hard not to be with mental illness
Most would of stopped reading by now
Some stayed just to be curious

Maybe you stayed because you can relate,
To how it felt and how it affected you
The Love, fear, happiness and hate
We’re constantly have, and are going through

Those first two verses were written when really low,
God, reading it brings me down
But only to a level of understanding
All part of turning your life around

Well, you got this far, and not by chance
Seen off the mysterious voices
Freedom is a wonderful thing
Being able to make life choices

A lot of life has been wasted
Solving an impossible puzzle
Time to look past, look forward
Take off that emotional muzzle

I don’t want to end this like I’m preaching,
But there’s one thing I’ve identified,
If you do relate, then you’re a kind, loyal,
Beautiful, passionate, creative, ambitious and caring person…
… Don’t hide!
This poem is the first one I wrote about feeling good about yourself. We few of a mixed up mind are very creative and it’s about accepting that and channelling it in positives ways. I hope you enjoyed it.

Chris