An Island to the world

Honesty in words, sometimes easier than spoken. Anyways who would listen? In poetry, words and emotions seek out their audience, asks to be understood and felt. Touching the reader in ways that provokes the mind to think in different ways.

An Island to the world

I probably should’ve wrote this first,
When I started putting life into verse,
Putting down words I dared not spoken, How my mind had always been broken

Nerves was born of glass, and it smashed,
Rain of pain came down and it lashed Worn down my will, little by little,
Lived oblivious that it could be so brittle

Reflection was just full of hate,
Internal voices sunk like a weight,
I felt split in two, split apart,
Broken conscience with a broken heart

Life in chains and my choices forced,
Positive crumbs are begged and sourced,
Kicked and punched when already floored,
Fear and worry to you I applaud

Does this tale have a happy ending,
Of happiness without full time pretending?

Everyday was a fight and a clash,
On my back cloaked a negative rash,
Blackness swamped and the doubt increased,
Unknown friends, nursed piece by piece

I wouldn’t want to walk in my shoes,
With this broken mind I didn’t choose,
Wouldn’t wish this on my greatest foe,
A poisoned clasp that never let’s go.

Yes

We all need an outlet, a release, words are mine. Using my messy head to spout how I feel. An honest rendition of one of my days.

‘Yes’

Having the will to be critical and angry,
To encourage, I didn’t have the energy
Being ‘pretend’ happy got me nowhere,
Touch of sarcastic praise, ‘there there’
I shouted and shouted to seem taller,
The realism, as a person I was smaller

Anxiety closing in, please let me out
Only option left was to try and shout
Hard to describe the way I felt
Not living real, playing the hand I’m dealt
Trying to be kind, by being cruel
Ending with someone, before they end with you

The only happiness came at the end of a bar,
Ending relationships, before they got too far,
To the extent of cheating, being immature,
Did nothing for my personality, or stature
Before they see I have an anxious mind
To show my real feelings, I would be blind

Had to get out, put my sanity first,
The OCD had an unquenchable thirst
When I laughed, or played at being a brat,
My self preservation had kicked in, only I knew that
The irony is, of ending all ties,
Is turning to drink, who Fed me all lies

I was lonely alone and I needed out
Put a pin in my pain and please bleed me out
Pretty much treated everyone the same,
Looking to leave you, looking real lame
If I let you down I have no excuse,
apart from wanting to be a full time recluse

OCD, anxiety, depression, I could go on
Not for sympathy or any attention,
After 30 years now my script is my own,
The mind dictator, has been disowned

A sea of uncertainty for years I swam,
Haven’t drowned yet so here I am,

My life was a pebble, buried in the sand
With help I was excavated safely to land
Allowed to sit in the sun and shine
I can be myself with no invisible whine

So though in the past, I did act very strange,
a little understanding would be good, because believe me I’ve changed.

Epiphany

We plead our ignorance of people

Until we open unselfishly to humanity,

Illuminate a life to lift a soul,

Apply our simplistic influential force of sincere acknowledgement,

Voice the oxygen that ignites the flame,

Of willing engagement,

Hear their words,

Contact the eyes,

Ask a name..

Naked…

When did it become essential
above all else,
to reach our potential,
Is it this failure
that draws us into depression,
Our own harsh judgement,
with no soft sides
or compassion,

We look in the mirror
scowling and staring
at our own image
forever comparing
to our sisters and brothers,
We are a force to ourselves
with a soft heart
to others

We feel pain not beauty
it’s what holds us back,
Self made chains
tied to perfection
restraining the truth,
Well no more!
I will light the fire
that burns insecurities
transferred from youth,

Hold the flame high
shout naked for all to see,
then laugh and cry
knowing this is it…
I can be free…

Inspiration

Whatever it is use it.

I’ve been in some very dark places where there is no way out, but alas here I am. Whatever it is use it! This imagination of ours is what keeps us down. We use it to create negative and sour happenings about ourselves turning our thoughts septic.

What worked for me to use it, create something, Poetry, painting, a story, a blog, photography, whatever feels right and for you to be able express yourself. It might awaken a passion deep inside.

In that pit of despair when you feel like doing nothing, write down those feelings, draw what it looks like, use the exact words or pictures in your head. Keep it for yourself or show people, whatever’s happening with you in that moment get it out there in the world, make it real, because when you make something real it feels like you’re dealing with it and it can be dealt with, instead of living in your head, manipulating your mind. Make it real, use it to get you to a better place.

This is what works for me. On bad days I write how I feel, being honest and true, and then use it for poetry. For me it works.

Doesn’t matter if it’s dark, it’s just imagination. Everyone has one. And depression, anxiety, OCD… etc and other sufferers have awesome imaginations. Don’t be scared of it, it comes from you.

All I can say is try, who knows what you may home up with. A deep hidden talent, or just a honest interpretation of what’s happening with you inside.

It may show a better understanding, to you and to other people.

Be inspired. Inspire yourself.