Pain and suffering

An invisible epidemic spreads through human life,
Known but unseen
Casting shadows internally
Polluting the brain.
Suicide and pain seem a way of life
Shocking but accepted.
When did we as a species, start acting,
As taking our own life is ok.
Shocking, cruel and unbelievable
Until time passes and shock value
Depreciates,
Becoming recognised as part of the journey.

No it’s not normal for an individual
Full of sense, emotion and love
Choosing to kill themselves cold.
To get to this state should send waves
To all that breathes.
We are evolving to see suicide as an option
Adapting and planning self torture.
This needs to stop
And start believing in the values of breathing,
Dancing to the blood pumping
Through viens.
And value life as a gift
Not a burden to survive.

The higher charge in every country,
In every race and language,
Need to see what’s in front of their
Privileged eyes.
People are suffering with standards
Of life.
Poverty, pain, combined with weight of mind
Brings the soul to drip
Of helplessness.

Self-halm to the extent of death,
Planned and executed in advance
By an individual
Who sees no other option.
This shouldn’t be behaviour of the sane
Suicide is spreading and rising
Unnoticed and quiet, until the blood drains.

Three Ghosts

Anxiety the past,
Praying on memories of old
Turning joy toxic
Parading doubt in front of others.
Questioning becomes an obsession
With the conscious gods.
Rewriting history through imagination
And doubt.
Feelings of guilt and regret
Cloud truth and innocence.

Depression the present,
Creating Insomnia
And tireless days
Mask slips in lonesome moments
Reappearing with others,
Painting a fake smile in company
Swapping faces to suit situations.
Forever Praying for, and fearing, isolation,
A bittersweet time of clarity
And relief,
In a day of celebration
Where the crowd mood is red
The depressives is blue.

Fear is the future,
Projecting thoughts
To unknown happenings,
Maybe Death or incarceration,
No positive or warm to hold onto.
Uncertainty a devil of the mind,
Imagination the keys on which he plays
Silencing voice of reason.
Rationality plays part of advocate
Though fails to satisfy or reassure
Peace and calm.
Noone can predict what the future holds
Though my accurate twisted depiction,
Is feeling alone and cold.
Many are visited always by these three ghosts,
And Christmas occasions can prove too dour
An Understanding voice can sing like a Carol
A true gift given, in a much needed hour.

Shadow

When people say my name
I’m caught off guard
In my head I’m not approachable
Not expecting anyone to engage.

Question why they’ve open discussion
What’s their motive
Is it because I’m the last resort
Or the more interesting people have left

I’m anxious but glad at the same time
Praying I dont say anything stupid,
On egg shells so they will return,
Desperate to make good impression
The circles, emotions and thoughts that rise to the surface during conversation is immeasurable.

To the normal person its every day
To me it hits the seismic scale Of anxiety
My mind takes me through the talk
Summarising if I spoke out of turn
Or brought Shame upon myself.
Will they return for act two, or is once is enough.

Maybe one day I will listen to what they say and not heighten my feelings to my own responses,
Before the questions have been asked.

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Pray

Free hand to write
On the edge of polite
To the mind and soul
Moods high or low

Circling the pain
That keeps me sane
Will I today survive
Hurt says I’m alive

Praying to the God enveloped in my head
Why own thoughts are wishing me dead
Confined to the 4 corners of my room
Take me now, or take me soon

Heavy head with knees a bleeding
Nodding still, crouching and pleading
Babbling a language all of my own
Can’t find solitude, until I’m home

Various flashbacks of whom im calling
Above my eyes raising and falling
Swallowing my soul, my light to see
Who am I?, who will save me?

Answer now or forever stay silent
So I can walk peacefully
Into the twilight.

Cry

When you go to sleep
I shall weep

In private, tears will fall
Requiring help, I won’t call

Cries drown my pillow
From days of sorrow

Always a restless hour
With thoughts turning sour

Awake in a personal hell
Mind is my prison cell

Cut me open, make it swift
Bleed me empty, as a gift

Blood shall be my last weep
Peace now, forever sleep.

Open to Suggestion

A box is only alive on the inside,
On the outside
Souls swim round deciding to enter
Or stay out in the open.
Choices become over thought
Becoming almost dangerous to trust instincts,
A simple answer feels high risk
Playing safe turns life into familiar situations
A comfortable uncomfortable,
Layers upon layers of protection
From an invisible inevitable.
It suffocates, squeezes the mind
To the extent of lashing out.
I will sit outside the box
And wonder of the magic
That changes life
Contained inside.