Tuesday, 31 December 2013

"And The Cycle Repeats"

My mind is in confusion.

I don't know where to turn.

Nothing's for real, and no-one stays.

When will I ever learn?

I live inside my fantasies.

I like my own world best -

but too soon, I'm faced with reality,

and I end up even more depressed.

If only I knew who my friends were.

If only people didn't lie.

If only I expected less.

If only, like the others, I didn't care or try.

I only get over one disappointment,

once I set myself up for the next.

And even though they don't show me the small print,

the get-out clause, buried deep in the text -

I already know that there has to be one.

Deep down, I realise that from the start.

Yet, I cling to pure hope, ignoring all logic,

because I am ruled, every time, by my heart.

Now my mind is in total confusion.

There is nowhere left to turn.

Nothing's ever for real, and everyone leaves -

but I will never learn.

Monday, 30 December 2013

"Eternal Darkness"

In my world of eternal darkness,

even sleep won't let me rest.

The nightmares haunt me,

and even death can offer no escape.

The cycle just repeats:

I must wait to be reborn,

and live this hell some more.

Why can't I have oblivion?

Nothingness -

that's all I seek.

Numbness helps,

but it's temporary -

an illusion -

a cruel mockery, nothing more, of what my heart desires.

Sleep and ultimately, death -

they lure me in,

and promise me release,

but nothing ever lasts,

except for pain. Depression. Grief.

Friday, 27 December 2013


I feel disconnected

from your ordinary grief.

Knowing you'll be fine some day

must be such a relief -

and still, I wouldn't wish

this pain on anyone.

My darkness is eternal,

and I don't require the sun -

but I don't even get moonlight,

or a single star to shine

for me. I don't deserve that. Yet,

please don't ask me one more time,

to lie and say the words: "I'm fine."

I am not, and never will be.

Wednesday, 18 December 2013

"Confused and Broken" (new version with a slight alteration)

Can't analyse the type of love I feel

when all I want to do is scream: "Don't die."

It's not like Cancer. It just seems unreal -

and, even though, sure, I've been close myself, why

would I want to understand this? Yet, I do -

but won't accept that suicide's okay.

But, if it is, should I go that way, too?

Because you will not see another way,

and I just can't face living without you.

Monday, 16 December 2013


An open heart

is unprotected.

It's my own fault

that I get rejected.

I wish that I

could be enough,

but I am not.

I am worthless:

That's what I believe.

If I was worth anything at all,

then people wouldn't leave.

Friends would trust me - love me - need me.

I wish that I

could be enough,

but I am not

and never will be.

"No Reverse"

And even now - I can't believe it,

but the potential's there -

that someone else could get inside my mind,

and make me care.

It's lonely work to always be

the one who gives a damn -

the one whom they reject - eject.

So, do they think I am

unbreakable? Or just entirely worthless?

I cannot tell -

but people take me for a fool,

and make my life pure hell.

I give my all, for what that's worth -

but caring too much is a curse.

It will destroy me in the end:

Start - stop - fast forward - no reverse.

Monday, 9 December 2013

"Barbed Wire"

If false floors and trap doors,

and those fences of barbed wire,

could not keep me away -

simply let me know how

unwanted, unneeded I am -

and hope that eventually

that might drive me away.

But I'll never stop caring,

and this pain that I'm bearing

is my privilege, a blessing,

like barbed wire caressing my soul.

Tuesday, 3 December 2013

"Love Wasted"

Her maternal love was wasted.

No-one hears her when she cries

through the night for her lost babies,

and a life so full of lies.

They assume it doesn't matter,

and don't care much anyway.

Her landscape desolate, barren, bleak -

still, she endures each pointless day.

She clung to hope, but was deluded -

and yet, had so much love to give.

One final haemorrhage seals the deal:

bittersweet release - no reason left for her to live.

Thursday, 21 November 2013

"Obsession's Dance"

She bleeds dark secrets. There is no way back.

She doesn't want to find one, anyway.

The pressure is intense. She starts to crack.

Somehow, she makes it through another day.

She talks small talk. They think that she is fine,

and mostly, can't be bothered if she's not.

She knew the score and where to draw the line,

but didn't see it coming: perfect shot -

right on target. She didn't stand a chance.

Soon, so soon - already in too deep -

intoxicated by obsession's dance.

The night possesses her. By day, she'll sleep.

Wednesday, 20 November 2013

"If You Want Me To Say"

if you want me to say

that, sure, I'd be okay

I would survive

I would recover

it wouldn't kill me

not completely destroy me

I'd be over it soon enough

if that's what you need me to say

then I guess I can lie


You cannot know how much I hurt inside.

You will never understand. Why would you?

Every pointless tear that I have cried

counts for nothing - and, yes, my point of view

is irrelevant to you. I know that.

Life's lonely for the one who gives a damn,

and disappointment's still where I am at.

Always another door for them to slam

in my face. Well, next time I will think twice.

Nobody else will ever make me care.

Nobody else will make me pay the price,

and I have very little left to share.

I gave everything. I am depleted -

feeling suicidal and defeated.

"Addiction" (about Imodium literally, and also as a metaphor)

tiny tubes of green and purple

or dreams dissolving into white

bring me your false comfort

your complications

your dark deceit

help me to make it through

another day

another desperate and dependent day

soothe me

I can't see another way

Monday, 18 November 2013

"Confused and Broken"

Can't analyse the type of love I feel

when all I want to do is scream: "Don't die."

It's not like Cancer. It just seems unreal -

and, even though, sure, I've been close myself, why

would I want to understand this? Yet, I do -

but won't accept that suicide's okay.

But, if it is, should I go that way, too?

Because you just won't see another way,

and I just can't face living without you.

Thursday, 14 November 2013

"More Lies"

Lies hurt.

They tear me apart.

I can't take any more.

What do I even carry on for?

I don't know where to start,

or how to mend my shattered heart.

Lies hurt.

They tear me apart.

And there are always more -

always more lies.

Wednesday, 13 November 2013

"Cruel Twist"

I remember those moments:

the happiest times in my life.

They remain, but are mocked

somehow - by more lies:

another - and yet another - cruel twist

of fate's knife.

Sunday, 10 November 2013

"Where are You?" (for Stacey)

I shut the world out,

but not you, until

maybe in the end, I did -

but, still -

you know that, at that particular time,

I let you in, and only you.

The story's end just leaves me stunned.

What can I do?

Where are you? You're still around, right?

I know that you're not really gone,

but I can't feel you any more.

Why can't I feel you, like I did?

I have this useless store

inside my head - the thoughts,

emotions - ones I want to share

with you. Your spirit's disconnecting.

I can't feel you anywhere.

It scares me. Don't you understand?

I need you. I need you here.

My living friends abandon me,

but always, you stayed near.

Where are you? Are you leaving, too? I'm scared.

"Three Years" (for Stacey)

How did she know obsessions that are mine?

The ones I hadn't even formed back then?

Could she tell whom I was to meet and when?

I'm with her - on sanity's borderline.

Three years have passed. It feels like yesterday,

or else three hundred years ago instead.

She didn't need more people in her head,

knowing that all too soon, they'd go away.

What would have happened if she hadn't died?

Would she have left, or would it have been me?

She knew how these things always have to be -

that certain issues can't be rectified.

Three years, since I first felt my engine stall.

Three years, and I've still not moved on at all.

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

"From My Heart"

I wish you all peace,

and I wish you all love -

from my heart -

but, for my own part,

it is over.

I can let go now.

No more resentment.

From my heart,

although I am falling apart,

I send you all peace,

and love,

and healing.

But , as for myself,

it is over.

So I'm saying goodbye,

although it makes me cry,

and I can't

say it any

other way.

No drama, no fuss -

not some really big deal -

and I don't even know

exactly how or when,

it will


my end.

I don't hate anyone -

maybe not even myself

any more,

but my will has gone.

My spirit is broken.

The long-term

physical and mental

deterioration -

along with rejection after rejection -

has destroyed

what was left.

Now I want to be free.

I need to be free.

I don't know when

or how,

but it has to end soon.

I didn't want to leave

such a mess


I'm not that type.

I would like pretty bows

to be tied

around what's left of me -

but my strength is failing me.

And this isn't the end.

There are other lives.

Believe that.

Hold on

to my memory,

my friends -


we meet again.

This isn't the end.

Monday, 4 November 2013

"One Day I Won't"

I've seen too many "friends" just come and go.

Solution clear: Just don't trust anyone.

Failed at that, too. Now I just feel low.

Why must I fall for every lie and con?

I'll wait to get stabbed in the back once more.

It's not as if I don't know how it goes.

It's not as if I've not been there before.

Sure, each time's disappointing, and it shows.

I will survive, until one day, I don't.

The ones who've stayed - still never know how long...

They think I'll still be here. One day I won't.

Meanwhile, I must pretend that I am strong

enough to handle even more rejection:

price to pay for my misplaced affection.


Just sometimes, when the world is closing in -

and nothing really makes much sense at all -

the moments when the room begins to spin -

the times when you erect your best brick wall

to hide behind - are my words making sense?

I doubt it. Nothing else is. Yes, I said.

I'm torn between the past and future tense -

but mostly, I just want to stay in bed.

The future is what I must always fear.

The past is mine to analyse - dissect.

I'll lose whatever I dare to hold dear.

I feel disposable. Eject - reject.

I care for people who don't value me.

Is this the way my life will always be?

Friday, 1 November 2013


And if she takes me now, what's left undone?

Who will be caught up in this web I've spun?

I never wanted to hurt anyone.


The ravens in my mind are dying.

The people in my world are lying.

Nothing's for real - but scarlet on steel.

I'll endure the pain, until I can feel

nothing more -

just my broken body, on a cold, concrete floor.

I will escape - some day, somehow.

Yet, all my heart knows is the here and now -

and how much it hurts -

how nothing converts

into usable currency,

and this world has no place for me - not currently,

not ever.

It's coming together:

the too obvious fact that I need a solution,

a conclusion:

an end to it all.

"Eternal" (written on 31/10/13)

I draw their spirits close to me and breathe,

and still I find, there's something to believe.

I need their energies to make me strong.

I hear the subtle echoes: Samhain's song.

Nobody feels my reason - hears my rhyme.

My rhythms only work in my own time.

My words - they might make sense in my own mind.

My friends need other words - ones I can't find.

There is an angel buried somewhere near,

who told me that there's nothing left to fear.

Now, all my friends who've passed or gone away -

this is one life. What more is there to say?

In this one life, I'll mend what I can mend.

True friendship is eternal - has no end.

Thursday, 24 October 2013

"Moving On"

One day, when you've moved on too,

and I'm part of your history -

because, in the end, they always do -

will you think of me?

I'm too intense. It scares people away.

That's their excuse.

They just don't bother - do not want to stay.

You can't make them, and so it's no real use

to beg or cry, or even calmly tell

them just how much you care.

You must not scream, and must not yell

that it's not bloody fair.

It isn't, though - but tell me:

When you've moved on too,

will I be ancient history

to you,

and will you remember that I said

that I'll never forget about you?

That when I tell you that I care - it's true.

"How It Feels"

It's when you wake up in the night and you cry,

and nothing makes much sense any more -

and the feelings that are there, you can't deny -

and you don't know what you carry on for.

You want to slam - and double-lock - the door

on your own emotions - but you can't.

It's when you wake up in the morning,

and you cry some more.

"Hopes and Dreams"

it's not as if

it's not as if

the hopes and dreams

that we started out with

ever died

they haven't died

it's not as if

it's only that

"Final Spin"

You trust. You hurt. I know the score, so why

do I let myself care? Why do I try

at all? Must my emotions always win?

By now, I must be on my final spin.

I cannot survive much more rejection.

Take it all - my genuine affection -

but just don't chuck it straight back in my face.

I wish that I could hold back, just in case

I end up hurt again. I wanted to.

Yet, still I trust - because it's what I do.

I live. I learn. What difference does that make?

Another fragment of my heart will break

each time, until I have no heart at all.

Then, I'll get to hide at last - behind my self-erected wall.

Saturday, 19 October 2013

"Attachment and Obsession"

She said: "Don't let them get inside your mind."

I heard her words that way. Now she's inside

herself, and my reality's defined

by my interpretation, and I slide

from sanity to madness. Yet, I know

sometimes they're meant to be there, after all.

I give a damn, and need to let it show.

I've been there, when they watch you - let you fall -

and even push you, knowing what they do.

She shared her feelings. It was not advice

as such. She just found words I could relate to -

formed poetry that gripped me in its vice.

I get attached - even obsessed. So what?

At least I don't leave my own friends to rot.