I
(If they go)
Beware the burrow you dug
With the love you gave:
When dug too deep, it's
No more than a grave.

II
(Inside-out)
Do not become the tree
That leaves but never barks,
Termites come for dinner
When daylight turns to dark.

III
(Overwhelm)
If ever you feel an ocean
Start brewing from your emotion:
Take care how much you let them drink-
Your loved ones, you will surely sink.

---

I like to sit and watch where the ant goes
The single ant on its own, heading towards who knows?
Maybe it's a scout, looking for leftover food,
Or maybe it's lost, forgotten by its brood,
Or maybe it's slow, making its way home-
So I put it on my finger, and now I'm not alone.

---

In my mind, there's four
Walls made out of skin.
In my mind, there's three
Windows painted in.
In my mind, there's two
Chairs but not a table
And in my mind, there's a
Boy that is unstable.

---


I am staring at the sky,
It is grey.
As is the smoke, as was this day.

I am staring at the ground,
It is also grey.
Why is everything so grey?

I am staring at the ashes,
They are grey.
As are my memories of yesterday.

I am staring at my hand,
It is not grey.
Why can't everything be grey?

---

lungful of air choking me
like a stale cigarette
this city night is a blur

colour and screaming
dreams are made and
turned to dust on the sidewalk

nothing but noise and pollution
nothing but cement in the sky

train screeches by
twelve suicides
four hours to dawn
nothing left anymore

but i need you here

The sky is blue, grey peeking over the horizon;
I never knew that beauty could be found in short gasps.
Although it's true that the ground bleeds mud when it's cried on-
The moment of beauty never lasts.

Yet I had lost, living in this false dichotomy
And had I tossed this doppelganger of me away:
It may have crossed my mind, brain like a lobotomy-
To try and live just another day.

Somehow I live as my foundations erode and shake,
But I don't give in to my putrid and failing mind.
Like an olive, pitted and crushed in the jar I fake;
The glass is broken, myself in kind.

---

I cup my only hands outside
Of my only window, and
I try to catch the rain
For a thirst that never quenches.
Yet I only seem to catch the spit
Of those who laud above me.
The hand-cupped spit is all I drink
For the thirst that never quenches.

---

A river of melancholy diverges
Into the ocean of me.
Although all rivers divide and merge:
There is no end to my sea.

Bony hands can't grasp the shore,
The sand kept slipping through.
Wanton needs, my fingers raw;
The cliff-face seemed too new.

Militant approach to love, forsaken-
As I suffocate slowly.
Never again will this pill be taken:
The only cure for lonely.

There are four walls and a floor,
Within my mind, a chain-locked door.
There are three drawers and a bed,
With only one place to rest my head.
There are two windows and a mirror,
Yet none of them do I consider.
There is one room and I am in it-
A personal hell with no exit.

---

One two, one two, one two, one two
Be sure to step with purpose, too.
See a window, slight reflection
Pull down top; neck correction.
Someone walking opposite, oh
Stare ahead, hold breath, don't let it show.

They've passed you, it's safe now
Exhale slowly, mind whited out.
Don't forget to walk, automatic,
Neck bent down, ears filled with static.
Now it's a group, senses heighten-
Pull out your phone, grip and chest tightened.

Safe again, thoughts left in disarray-
Reflection, fix hair astray.
Person, pull back shoulders slightly.
Others around smiling brightly.
Laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing- stop.
They're laughing at you, heart starts to drop.

It's all in your head, calm down, relax;
Don't turn around and reverse your tracks.
You'll lose all progress, places to be-
I wish I was at home, fast asleep.

I looked upon the mirror
In vein, I see myself
And a pitter-patter
Of rain hitting the floor.

The rain's flow quickly thrums,
Fingers held disjointed.
A tinkling on the ground-
Broken glass left pointed.

---

Sitting on the hardwood floor,
Playing a game of chance.
Pair shook in hand, let them fall;
I'm watching the dice dance.

They both fell to a one,
I guess I'll see it through
Despite my terrible luck-
As I struck: One, two.

I picked them up and dropped
Them down again to the floor,
But I guess my luck stopped as
I stared at the dice once more:

Two. The lowest number.
Again, I'll see it through,
Despite my terrible fate-
As I sate: One, two.

I felt cheated, unrest-
My thirst could not be quenched.
Is this fate at its best?
Yet hands gripped, unclenched.

Snake eyes again, staring-
Maybe I should start anew.
Despite my fear inside,
I abide: One, two.

I could not fathom what had
Occured to me on this night.
Had a saint bowed down and
Tried to rid me of this blight?

My addiction ran course through fate and chance-
So for this night, the dice have their last dance.

Like a dry sponge.

It's time again,
Night after night
Crippling me
Soon after Ten.

Spoon filled with my
Deadly dessert.
Wrapping me, I
Began to hurt.

The lust has come,
Need fulfilling;
Temperature fixed-
A conundrum.

Ready at last!
Tap tap, tap tap.
Braced as I sat,
Shadows are cast.

Metal and skin
Came together:
This river is like
A long lost kin.

I took the plunge.

---

I
(looking at her)

There is an angel at the bus stop-
Not my bus stop, but across the street.
Flaming, red hair and white skin-tight top.
It's a shame that we will never meet.

I look down at my phone, can't be seen.
Last glance I stole: adjusting her skirt-
Navy blue, sprouting legs long and lean.
Even her shadow could make me hurt.

I glanced up again, needing my fix:
At the same moment, she looked downwards-
I caught a flash of blue, eyes a sea.
I thought my mind might be playing tricks.

Sun emphasizing her hair grandly,
I figured a halo might be seen.
As she grasped her black bag handily,
I realised the bus had come near.

I needed to act, quickly, with haste-
Standing up suddenly, arm lifting:
I waved at her, hand nearly a wing.
At the last second, she turned her face

As the vehicle came to stop in place.

II
(looking at him)

There's a man at the bus stop, sitting.
Mysterious and dark, features sharp,
White t-shirt, stretch black jeans tight-fitting.
'Cross the road from me echos a harp.

I quickly glanced down, checking my phone,
Pretending to, at least. Cheeks flushed
As i think about his figure, honed;
With dark blonde hair, side cropped, top brushed.

Enough time had passed, I looked up-
Eyes sparkled a second, he looked down;
Like honey in colour, light brown.
That glance filled me like a flowing cup.

His expression changed, lips pursed.
Wonder what he was thinking about?
Suddenly, a motion, hands clenched
As he stood up. My heart felt filled out.

Bus arriving, I stood up as well,
Put my phone in my jeans, facing him.
His arm in the air, my chest caved in-
Boys shouldn't cry, but I felt tears swell:

Because he was waving to that girl.

red apples

the blade pierced within-
juices dribbled down,
a sweet fragrance.
sickeningly crimson.

---

99 bottles of beer on the wall,
Fortnight recycling left them no more.

---

I'm the boy who still laces shoes in rabbit ears;
Who goes to a concert, and never claps or cheers;
Who never asks to help, but will never say no;
Who hates new things, but will still give it a go.

I'm the friend that can never fit in a group;
That repeats the same song on an endless loop;
That can't smile for a picture, but can pull a face;
That can disappear from their lives without a trace.

I'm the monster who hates having to help others;
Who selfishly uses people, and his brother;
Who lies, and steals, and cheats without a single care;
Who sees a fresh patch of skin to mar and tear.

I'm the child that wants to live in a dreamland;
That gets scared of strangers and likes to hold hands;
That watches cartoons and likes milk with his cookies;
That's so shy of girls she may as well have cooties.

I'm the man who can't take responsibility;
Who looks back and sees all the lost opportunities;
Who pretends it's okay, but is drowning in fear;
Who wonders and hopes that an end will soon come near.

The little flower

A happy little flower
Opened up as the sun
Gave its morning wishes,
In this cool, early hour.

A lovely lady, local
Came upon the flower:
"Oh, how pretty!" she said,
As she plucked herself a petal.

The flower smiled at her
As she turned her back to leave.
The flower felt lonely,
But tried its best not to grieve.

A cautious woman, careful,
Crept slowly to the flower:
"Poor thing, darling," she said
As she plucked herself a petal.

The flower wondered why
She also crept away;
"Please," the flower begged
Unheard, "come back and stay".

A pretty princess, wattle
Strung crown upon her head-
"What an ugly flower!" she said
As she plucked every last petal.

The flower now understood
The cruelty of another.
As the flower looked upwards,
Its last friend had gone, day had passed-

The little flower drooped and withered.

a wattle is some australian tree thing. theyre pretty.
that poem was not about my failed relationships. nope. not at all. i dont take breakups badly at all.

---

lying to people, even though
i dont have to
crying about it, even so
i cant stop it

i am a fly attracted to trash,
there's food that smells good.
you were a spider, web provider;
i need you, go away.

incoherence, misunderstanding-
im hungry again.
insolence, mistakes were made tonight:
choke down a meal for them.

i met her at an art gallery
fingers to the base
an exhibition, negative space
get it out of me

we shook hands, and you gave me a hug
disgusting, filthy
i'm sorry i can't hold you close by
crawling little bug

im shredding old tshirts, overworn
rip tear rip tear rip
hold the scissors firm or they might slip
cutting yourself down

i gave a bear a hug, he smiled
please stop hurting me
i made a home for a little bee
and yet i cant stop

cant bring myself to care again, but
im telling a story.
nevertheless, today's gone once more-
on every second line.

What day is it today?
I don't know,
Another yesterday?

What day was it yesterday?
I don't know,
Will tomorrow be today?

What day is it tomorrow?
I don't know-
Just an everyday sorrow.

---

My daylight decaying, I've met your night;
Evergreens blacken-
Even the grass is the same on either side.

Rusty partition is falling apart-
What fence is there left?
You've fallen to the dark side of my heart.

And yet I'm the one falling, cyclical
Game of cat and mouse:
Our days spent in glances and upturned lips.

Back and forth, back and forth, never-ending-
I'm staring too much.
On your bony hand, I'd fashion a ring.

Although something is amiss, incomplete;
My head is hurting.
We've never spoken much, or shared a seat

And I discover the truth, chest tightens.
My heart is hurting,
Because we will never be more than friends.

---

Her eyes dance, like stars upon a lake;
Wind-strewn hair blowing gently.
That smile is enough to make me hurt-
Because that smile is fake.

Primrose scent: alluring, sweet.
Jaw cut hard like an actress,
And yet her performance is failing.
Just as we will never meet.

Living a lie, an endless battle-
I've seen her face when she cries,
But still she smiles, gets on with her day:
Follows the crowd-like cattle.

She fights herself, skin tough as thick hide
And never looks towards me.
Like a terracotta warrior:
She's hollow on the inside.

12 hours ago, I saw your face:
Tears in your eyes, we fought at your place.

11 hours ago, the train
I disembarked left me in the rain.

10 hours ago, I'm at our park;
The place we met, our names carved in bark.

9 hours ago. Sitting alone
on the park bench, drenched to the bone.

8 hours ago: Walking, walking.
I don't even know where im going

7 hours ago, at a store:
buying candy, pills and hard liquor.

6 hours ago, on my way home.
Baby why wont you pick up the phone?

5 hours ago, I sent a text
From the train I'm on. My stop is next.

4 hours ago, I was yawning
As I passed my apartment's awning.

3 hours ago, you dont pick up-
so I pick up a pill, lift my cup.

2 hours ago, no response.
A call or a text is all I want.

1 hour ago, feeling sleepy;
Muddled thoughts, it's hard to think deeply.

Just now, I'm starting to regret that
I never left food out for my cat.

Waste of breath
Waste of time
Waste of hers
Waste of mine

Waste of space
Waste of years
Waste of blood
Waste of tears

Waste of food
Waste of life
Raise the sleeve
Drop the knife

Tired

I'm so tired, my head is thrumming.
Let me sleep-
As I hear a happy bee humming.

I'm so tired, I'll just rest my eyes.
Let me sleep-
As an upset baby next door cries.

I'm so tired, just lying in bed.
Let me sleep-
As the sun comes up, my vision red.

I'm so tired, so I take these pills.
Let me sleep-
As a little bluebird outside trills.

I'm so tired, I tip back the glass.
Let me sleep-
As the man down the street mows his grass.

I'm so tired, door knocked off its beam.
Let me sleep-
As I faintly hear my mother's scream.

I'm so tired, darkness quickly creeps.
Let me dream-
As I drift to an eternal sleep.

---

I'm stood at the mirror, staring at
The screw in my head;
It's come loose, undone.

I reach for the screwdriver, kept in
A box near my bed.
My routine begun.

Gripping the handle firm, I place the
Head into the notch-
It fits in just right.

Staring into the mirror, I turn
My right hand and watch:
Twist, twist, twist it tight-

As is my prescription for the night.

I'm stood at the mirror, staring at
The screw in my head;
It's come loose once more.

I reach for the screwdriver, kept in
A box near my bed.
It falls to the floor.

Fraught with anxiety, I grip
The loose screw by hand,
But it does not twist.

My efforts for naught, it comes undone
Like fingers through sand:
It slips from my fist-

As the loose screw cease to exist.

I look to the floor and see a box;
Crumpled pill packages missing stock-
And as my vision begins to fade,
I hear a faint tinkling sound made:

My reflection bloodied and maimed.

Talking to who?

---

Standing at the train station

Choke.
Lack of air, it's hard the breathe
When there's people around me.

Choke.
Eyes are burning, people stare-
Or are they even still there?

Choke.
Have to check: left right, left right;
Empty peripheral sight.

Choke.
They're gone, but I can't relax
As I stare down at train tracks.

Choke.
Little steps forward: one, two-
As my train comes into view.

Choke.
Throat tightens, it's not the day,
And I take a step away.

Breathe.

vice

This is a story of love gone astray:
A boy with a girl who won't go away.
Begging for freedom
As you hold me in a vice day by day.

You've consumed me in burning cinders
And left me dry in frozen winters.
I'm suffocating
As your hand comes near, I choke on fingers.

Her violent escapades violate me
Like a tsunami, waters rising free.
Our rivers diverged
But you were still a part of my sea,

"Wake up" you whisper, it's time for our date,
I follow her with a hunger to sate.
A predator's smile
As we feast, the vice grip fills me with hate.

I must keep it down, I beg and plead you-
But the mirror can't lie, that stare is true.
Her hand comes closer,
The grip loosens, my ritual is through-

A tale of love at a quarter to two.

what happened to dreams

I wonder where my life will go?
Whether every step takes me
Backwards or forwards, I don't know.
As footsteps quicken, my heart slows.

Remembered faces are a blur-
A black mark where their name should be.
Memory's a watercolour,
But the one colour left is her.

A greeting smile, a light-kissed cheek;
The darkness in my heart washed free.
Though that time is gone, still I seek
For that lone pebble in the creek.

Fingertips raw before I stop
My heart stops too, as I flee
Away from the pain: I fall, drop-
As thoughts start over from the top.

I wonder where my life will go?
Every footstep goes nowhere;
Backwards or forwards, I don't know.
As if walking through endless snow:

I look behind me, ground left bare.

the box in my heart

I've dug a hole, three-so feet deep,
At the bottom, a linen sheet.
Unwrapping it, I find a box-
It's where I keep my hidden thoughts.
I lift the lid, place it aside;
The old box is empty inside.

I take a breath, and scream aloud
Until my throat hurts and eyes cloud.
I wipe off my tears now flowing;
Placed in the box, they start slowing.
My hoarse throat soothes and lungs take air,
There's no sign they were ever there.

I've thrown in my frustration, so
Loneliness is the next to go.
I place no friends to the left side,
And all the times my mother lied,
And all the times I said "I'm fine"
Go deep into this box of mine.

Next I throw out all my regrets.
Memories of failure and debts,
To the box's right side they sit.
As I throw in the times I quit,
And the love I lost in the past-
The old box is filling up fast.

Last I throw in my self-hatred:
Thoughts of bloodlust never sated,
And vices I could never drop.
A taste of bile that never stops
And the joy of a razor blade;
Placed in the box, these thoughts now fade.

Back at the hole, three-so feet deep,
At the bottom, a linen sheet.
I place the lid back on the box-
It's filled with all my hidden thoughts.
Put back in the hole, it's time to hide
The old box that's empty inside.

Maw cut gracefully,
A smile is the simplest lie.
I sink in red lips.

---

a walk to the park

It's too hot.
The sun glares down at me-
I try glaring back, but
My eyes hurt.

Too many;
There's too many people
Enjoying the nice day.
Except me.

Sweat gathers,
Stinging me underneath
Freshly lain bandages.
Pull them off.

Mouth is dry-
Can't tell if it's the heat
Or my anxiety.
Head spinning.

Watching eyes;
They judge me silently.
As a little boy cries
Inside me.

I need out.
An escape from this hell
That the sun brought about.
I go home.

It's too hot.

an empty day

Empty words on empty pages
Formatted with empty spaces.

Empty thoughts and empty feelings;
Medicate with empty dealings.

Empty smiles and my empty lies,
I've done my best with empty tries.

Empty friendships from empty friends:
They all came to an empty end.

Empty lust in an empty mind-
Hoping to find an empty kind.

Empty lovers and empty ****s-
I can't cry tears with empty ducts.

An empty house, an empty room;
In the night sky, an empty moon.

Empty fears filled with empty dread,
As I lie in this empty bed.

Empty heart feels empty sadness
Trying to fill this emptiness.

comfort

I look around,
Everyday it's bleak skies.
They talk to me,
But all I hear are weak lies.

It's hard to breathe,
My chest forever sinking.
Can't hold it in,
These thoughts I'm ever thinking

I take her hand,
Sharp nails dig into my skin.
We drag them down,
Revealing the dirt within.

Release, relapse,
Falling into disaster.
I'm sinking now,
Happily ever after.

merry christmas

christmas greens
christmas whites
christmas reds
christmas lights

christmas trees
christmas sights
christmas gifts
christmas sleights

christmas foods
christmas nights
christmas drinks
christmas fights

happy new year, sad old year

Thoughts of endless despair, life's collusion-
Nowhere's safe and everything goes wrong.
Eyes staring upwards, you stand along
The edge, the thin air is no illusion.

Fear clutches at your throat, you can't do this,
You'll just disappoint them all again-
You already do, let's not pretend;
As the ice slips into your heart and twists.

Internal struggle tears at you and claws
At all the regrets left in your head.
The fear's gone, you take a step forward-
With your back facing the fall, safe once more.

4am foray on instagram

I peeked upon her picture, a pretty
Starlet stuck among a cement city;
Her poise and pose and pouting lips
Struck something in my soul, serenity.

anxiety

Inhale

The gun is pointed at my head—
Greeting me as I lie in bed,
Meeting me wherever I tread;
Night or day, it's always loaded.
Exhale

Inhale

It's waiting for my mask to slip–
My armour checked with holes and rips.
If I say the wrong word, I'll trip
And surely squeeze down on the grip.
Exhale

Inhale

Those around me can't see my plight—
Even as a hostage, I fight,
But red still seeps into my sight:
I can't save me, try as I might.
Exhale

Inhale

The gun is pointed at my head—
Waiting for the times I see red—
And when my heart is filled with dread—
I squeeze the trigger and shoot me dead.
Exhale

Inhale

morning at the grove

Looking 'pon an endless grove,
An endless distance I have drove.
Was the saying, I'm the pot
Next the black kettle on the stove?

Innards forlorn, left to rot—
My running feet slow to a trot.
Moving parts cease to function,
Like a malfunctioning robot.

We first met 'mong this junction,
As kids, sat 'pon grounds for luncheon;
Years spent with one another—
'Til she stole my heart, abduction.

Who knew we would be lovers?
Or the day I asked her father,
And knelt to her that same night.
As rain falls, I fall to cover.

Contaminated by this blight;
When I saw her eyes lose their light,
The kettle had knocked and fell
And all sense of hope gone from sight.

I beg why I've come this hell!
In the distance there tolls a bell:
Memories of lips that wove
And a humid evergreen smell.

Looking 'pon an endless grove,
An endless sadness I have brove—
And still I stand, heading home
As the lone pot left on the stove.

A trip to the shops

Breath running short;
I'm not even running.
Everyone laughs—
But nothing is funny.
Mind's going blank,
A twist in my tummy.
I can't walk straight:
Limbs flop like a dummy.

An endless hell
Of lost personal space.
People watching,
Is something on my face?
I need to leave
And get out of this place.
There's the exit—
I'm gone without a trace.

---

anxiety pt 2

There is a hand that grips my chest;
The hand in my chest keeps gripped as I rest.
Clawed and mangled, and scarred at best—
And a reminder of the life I've messed.

I tried to move on with my life,
But the claws gripped like the edge of a knife,
And the edge of a knife seemed right
To help give me some respite for that night.

Again, my respite was cut short,
As the hand came back and gripped further taut.
It ignored all the times I've fought,
And comes to claim the happiness I've sought.

Since then, a decade has passed by
And still it grips when I pass by passerby's,
And still I cover it with lies—
A depthless ocean filled with endless tides.

People tell me: "Get over it,
You can't be happy when you always quit,"
But I've fallen too far to see
That the hand gripping my chest has been me.

insomnia

1am
It's getting late, I should go to bed,
But I turn on a movie instead.

2am
I got bored and didn't watch it through—
Wishing I could turn my mind off too.

3am
Talking to people online this time,
And I try very hard to act fine.

4am
My head is throbbing; "why can't I sleep?"
I ask myself each day of the week.

5am
I should tell them I'm going to rest,
And so I lay down and try my best.

6am
This pillow is uncomfortable—
I throw it aside with a fumble

7am
It's getting warm, the sun is too bright:
When had time come steal away the night?

8am
Just as sleep claims me, a noise abrupt;
I guess it's time I better get up.

black widow

I spied her coming close to me
Carefully, so I did not flee—
But she was only, from the start:
A spider closing in on me.

She snuck into my severed skin,
Sneaking suspicions of my sin;
Then buried herself in my heart—
Her web had settled deep within.

Threads stronger than steel wove around,
Legs gripping me without a sound.
I felt numb as I fell apart:
My feelings lost and never found.

I couldn't think of anything to write today
no really i mean i didn't know what to write so i just kept going on til i got bored

My page is empty, my mind is numb
And every thought I think seems dumb.
Or just dumbed-down, like network T.V.,
But there's no tragedy left in me—

The only tragedy left is me.

So I write about the thought of not
Having anything to write, a jot
Of ink smudged across this page of mine,
Filled with snippets of thoughts I'd mined—

My every thought blurred, an ink smudged mind.

What's the point of hitting the point of
Being suicidally depressed, love
Feels like a distant dream in my head.
I can't sleep, but I live in my bed—

Haunted by the void beside me in bed.

I turn up the sound to drown out this
Static on loop in my head: "sssss,"
Stop that, I'm being driven insane.
It's all in my mind, even this pain—

As I look at life through a clouded pane.

Even though the window is too small,
The latch works; opened up with a haul.
I can't leave, but I can hear outside
And my anxiety turns aside—

It whispers, "Hurry up and pick a side."

Anxiety always wins this game;
It's one-sided, like a matchhead's flame,
But even that will burn my fingers
If held too long and left to linger—

Closing the window, I'm left to linger.

I don't play with matches though, unless
A cigarette counts as one, I guess.
I really should smoke less and write more,
Both vices for vices I abhor—

They're my only friends when life is a bore.

It's not that I can't have fun, instead
I'm alone in my head, in my bed
Trying my best to hide from the sun,
And I feel like depression has won—

It's lonely in here, this world made of one.

I'm not the only one in it, just,
I've lost sight of my feelings and trust.
I can't trust that they'll come back to me:
My blurred mind finds it too hard to see—

As the waters slowly rise in my sea.

routine

Last year was an empty year;
I wonder if happiness is near?
Last month was an empty month—
I'm devoid of feeling, even fear.

Last week was an empty week:
Still no sign of happiness I seek.
Yesterday was an empty day,
I wonder if tomorrow's as bleak?

As I live this empty today.

---

When I felt too much of everything,
I wished to feel nothing—
Now that I feel nothing,
I wish to feel anything at all.

reminiscing, sometimes

I like to look at old photographs,
Wondering where the time has gone to
And what's happened to me, too—
Whilst I watch my old self laugh.

Who was this person in my body?
Feeling good, looking even better.
Now I'm just sad and fatter,
Yearning for anybody.

I want to go back to those old days:
Friends, lovers, parties, drugs and laughter.
I gave it all up after
I'd spent three years in a daze.

No one will come save me from this hell—
Hell, I cannot even save myself.
The old me forsook himself,
Before he knew it, I fell.

Those days won't come back to me ever;
I sit here contemplating death and
Stick my head deep in the sand
From all the bonds I'd severed.

So I clench my breaking teeth down heard
And put up with what life deals to me;
Sitting with my hand of three,
Waiting for a better card—

As I bring the rope down to the yard.

i just need sleep and a teaspoon of hope

Everything is exhausting, I'm exhausted.
"Where are you these days" they say,
And I don't know what to say—
All my energy is gone and exhausted.

Nothing even matters to me anymore.
They ask me: "What's the matter?"
I am, and I don't matter
And despite my matter, I matter no more.

What else is there to do but take my own life?
"But there's so much to live for!"
Everyone has said before.
They lie for me, but I was never for life—

Yet for some reason, I don't pick up the knife.

anxiety pt 3

I'm sitting in an invisible chair
That's standing in an invisible room.
If I get up, the chair might not be there,
But just keeping still will hasten my doom—

And the people outside just point and stare.


---

The Staircase

I'm walking down the staircase
Made of rickety driftwood
And a red rug in place.

I'm walking down quietly,
But each footstep makes a creak.
I try to breathe silently.

"Just what am I avoiding?"
I suddenly ask myself—
Yet I still keep on moving.

Each step takes me to darkness,
The light is left behind me.
I further step with harshness.

I'm walking down the staircase;
Just who knows where I'm headed?
I start to quicken my pace.

I'm stepping down suddenly.
Soon I'll take two steps a time,
Escaping what's behind me.

I don't want to turn around,
But the darkness is choking—
Then I stop without a sound.

Turning, I now see myself
Standing in a spot of light,
He spoke: "You've done this yourself".

I'm standing on the staircase
Made of rickety driftwood,
An image in my mind's space.

I'm standing there quietly—
A yearning to walk upwards
And a wish to be set free.

With nobody to save myself but me.

---

Every morning

Some people wake up
And think of tomorrow;
Pro-active lifestyle,
With minds clear of sorrow.

Some people wake up
And think about today;
Plans and lists ready
To live life their own way.

Some people wake up
And think back yesterday;
With worry-filled hearts—
A hope for better days.

I wake up tired,
And think of years gone by;
This hell gets longer,
My every breath a sigh:

With a single wish to die.

---

Fade to white

Emotions feel so far away;
Out of mind, out of sight.
I don't think I can fight today,
I'm all that's left to fight.
There's no hope, will I find a way?
If there's a way, I might—
But this darkness is here to stay,
There is no home for light.
My shadows are too deep, yet no ray
Of light, just an endless blight.
My wish is to make them all pay,
And fall from deathly heights;
There's no-one to hurt anyway,
My revenge seems so trite.
This may be my loneliest May,
Just myself left to sleight:
So I'll sit and wait for the day,
'Til there's naught left to write—

And my blackened heart just might fade to white.

---


Today is far gone;
An afternoon depression.
Congealed thoughts rotting.

---

She smiled at me once:
A once in a lifetime smile.
The autumn sun sets.

---

My frozen heart melts
At the sight of a lost love.
Forgotten mural.

---

Moments before rest

I'm lying in my bed,
Mental congestion plagues me:
Am I alive, or am I dead—
Or do I just want to be set free?

I'm sighing in my head,
Less effort if I don't breathe.
Yet despite all the times I've bled:
I'm still here, without a will to leave.

I'm filling up with dread,
How long will I have to live?
After all the people I've fled,
Loneliness has held me captive.

I'm lying in my bed,
I'll get up in the morning—
But right now, I'll just wish instead:
"Please save me from this bed I'm haunting,"

And pray that Death heeds what I've plead.


---

Where do I look now?

I've built a room around myself:
Four walls, a floor and a ceiling—
To hide all signs that I'm feeling
As I try to find my true self.

The walls are made of warped mirrors,
But they're one way, I can only see
Disfigured expressions of me.
The walls shake, and my face tremors.

People I knew beat on the glass,
They're trying to break a way in
And visit the "me" kept within—
Although my sturdy walls held fast.

The ceiling and floor are darkness,
There are no trace of my footsteps
And the sky is only black depths.
My escape is all but hopeless.

I've build a room around myself:
Four walls, with no window nor door—
There's no one left outside to call
And I think I've lost my true self.


---

repetitive

There is nowhere left to go.
Each twist and turn leads me here;
Like U-turn signs on both ends of the road
With no direction to steer.

I'm not being cynical.
Two steps forwards, two steps back;
This path I've been set on seems cyclical
And I think I'm about to crack.

There is nowhere left to go.
Each day, week, year feels the same,
And every minute just seems so slow—
I have no dreams left to claim

Is this a sign of madness?
Round and round I turn and twist:
Living the same, looking for new answers,
With a wish to not exist.

The Prison

I stare in the bleakest mirror
Found within my deepest mind,
Brought forth from sleeping dreamscapes—
Lucidity.
I looked upon my darkened face
And he stared into my eyes in kind;
My mouth moved in the mirror,
He says to me:
"Why do you trap me in this Hell?"
"I just want to be set free."
"I'm a nice person," he swears.
Dark lips flapping,
"This is hell, and nobody cares,
Loneliness has beset me."
His fist thumps upon the cell,
Glass rattling.
There's no response that I can give,
My lips feel together sewn,
As he raps the glass once more;
A prisoner.
I look down to his hardened jaw—
Had he been there all alone?
With only a wish to leave
Here forever.
He screams at me, begging answers,
But my voice remains silent
As he condemns me of lies
Desperately.
A darkness settles in his eyes,
I can see his mind had bent
And fallen into madness
Delightfully.
He slams the cell door again
And again, but it holds through.
The mirror begins to warp;
Echoed laughter.
"This forsaken prison you've wrought
Hides a secret from you too—
See, I'm just a reflection,"
"I came after."
His shrieks broke near into a song,
Those lips tore a smile unkind.
A terrible thought I bore;
Comprehension.
I stare into the warped mirror
Found within my broken mind,
It was me trapped all along
With my reflection.

---

country girl in a concrete prairie

The clandestine angel stands
Clad in sundress, drapes and strands
Of hair-bound forget-me-nots—
And I never once forgot.

two
My bed is made for two,
With blankets made for two,
Count the pillows: one, two—
Either side with drawers, too.
Dining table seats two,
With placemats placed for two.
Two couches made for two,
And bookcase split in two.
Two racks for bathroom towels,
Two hooks for shower sponges;
All these things come in two:
Yet I'm here without you.

detour
My teeth still hurt—
I guess it's no wonder:
Food for dinner,
And fingers for dessert.

Lost byway, lost my way

I've strayed off the road
Of recovery,
I'm left all alone
With none to help me.
This path paved in mud
Where nothing can grow:
It's dirt mixed with blood.
My footsteps are slow,
I sink with each step—
But there's no footprints
From where I have left,
And it always stinks.
I struggle onward,
Regret in my heart,
A fence made of swords
Guides me on my path.
There's nothing beyond,
Blades are all I see;
They hum quiet songs:
"Come," they're goading me.
My last attempts failed,
I've crossed them before:
Leaving me impaled,
Wet mud on the floor...
I'll find my way back
By walking ahead,
And if my knees slack
I might lose my head.

I trudge my way forward, lest I fall dead.


---