"Feeling the Pain"

when you can no longer fill

the void

deny the pain

the depression

the loneliness

frozen by fear

into

relentless

inactivity

just stay with the pain

live through it

moment by moment

and hope

hold on

hold out

for something to believe in

survive

just survive

endure

another pointless day

filled with pain

"Visible"

Mental illness is invisible?

I wish.

OCD leaves physical scars.

Take my hand, anyway.

It isn't catching - I promise you that.

Please stay.


Beneath the moon and stars,

I pray

for friends who will love me

anyway,

for who I am inside.

I feel the need to hide.

Tell me that I am okay

the way I am

right now.


Tell me that there is hope.

Tell me that you care,

and will always be there.

"All We Have"

And so, all we have are

moments:

each cloud formation in the sky,

each breeze and breath,

and passing butterfly.


Where does solitude end,

and loneliness begin?

So far from where I long to be,


and yet, I feel a

momentary

sense of peace within.

"Eternal Friendship and Nothing Less"

I have had the friends since childhood.

All of those are long gone now.

I have had the users and abusers -

their lies and their deceit. Repeat - repeat...

I have had the promised sense of community,

if only I would accordingly

adjust my lifestyle

and my spiritual beliefs.

I've had the friends who left - the ones who died.

Whatever, however - in the end,

I've cried, and been denied.

I've had the friends online, and believed

too much. I'll never touch

any of them.

I need the friends who call or text me, for no reason.

I need the friends who don't care how I look,

and accept me, flaws and all - yes, in my true -

updated, somewhat broken - form.

I need friends who see me as real,

and friendship as eternal,

and who will be authentic in return -

and I would rather be alone

than settle for less

than I - than we - deserve.

"Excluded"

A sunlit world

full of happy people,

from which I am excluded.

Who cares

about my tears

today,

anyway?

Who doesn't wish that I would shut the hell up,

go away?

Even I don't want to hear me.

"Nowhere to Turn"

She screams in the darkness.

There is nowhere to turn.

When boundaries shift, her sanity evaporates.

Will she never learn

that she cannot trust anyone?

Tomorrow is a brand new day.

Today's friend could as suddenly be gone,

and if she minds or hurts at all,

one guess who must be in the wrong.

Never trust anyone.

When will she learn?

"How Does It Feel?"

Do you feel a sense a power,

when you take a girl without her consent -

from "touching up" to full-scale rape?

What was your intent,

and can your mind not visualise

this same girl, at twenty-five - thirty-five -

forty-five?

Broken - because of what you have done.

Do you not realise

that, when you move swiftly on,

in approximately

five minutes' time -

that she does not - cannot?

Your act will traumatise her

for the rest of her life.

She may never have sex again - never have kids -

may even commit suicide.

How does it feel?

Do you feel a sense of power?

Did it feel good,

after you were finished with her,

had done your filthy deed,

when you watched the girl you had just violated,

watched as your victim broke down and cried?

"Fantasies and Memories"

Fantasies are not optional extras:

add essential colour and texture to her days -

without which - how could she

get through at all?

Reality is relentless - cruel -

lonely and empty, too.

A tear-stained tapestry of memories

reminds her of the

disillusionment

that must arrive soon,

just as it always has before.

In truth, she has been catching

more than glimpses

almost from the start.

She knows the story outline now,

a variation on a standard plot.

Yet, somehow she is still hoping

for a twist, even as

she feels more tears

descending - even though

she knows

that they are tears of

resignation.

"PTSD"

do you realise the pain you cause

when you take what isn't yours

a lifetime of pain

going insane

flashbacks

panic attacks

suicidal thoughts

because you took

what wasn't yours

and you don't even care

"Depression and Loneliness"

There's nothing left. Her passion died.

She's left with nothing but pain inside.

Depression won. Who really cares?

Her heart and soul - all that she shares -


counts for nothing to so-called "friends".


Easier to face the loneliness:

eternal, unending, almost loyal,

so comforting - just like

a blade's caress.

"Genuine?"

The last friends might have let you rot.

You still believe - these ones will not.

It seems okay. It feels so real.

At last - friends who won't make you feel


rejected, ejected - deja vu.

True friends are always there for you -

don't alter rules and boundaries

without explaining - do not freeze


you out, as happened in the past.

They're here to stay. Some things do last.

Not everyone intends to leave

eventually, and make you grieve.


Some people must be genuine -

so give the dream one final spin.

"The Final Flames"

To let her spirit dance, and set her free -

if only. Her own body is her cell.

Entranced by birdsong, nature's melody -

she yearns to heed their call, but feels unwell


day after day. It's not a "lifestyle choice".

Some "choice": to just be stuck indoors again.

Talks to herself - checks she still has a voice.

Facebook, Twitter and You Tube keep her sane -


and make her crazier, at the same time:

the friends she talks to, but can never touch.

Reality has reason, yet no rhyme.

Daydreams are her escape. She dreams too much.


When she comes back, it's always with a crash.

It hurts each time. You'd think that she might learn.

Maybe she'll see it - once her dreams are ash -

once the final flames are duly extinguished,

never to return.