yes
I want to do more
with my time
efforts and energies
but somehow,
I just can’t help sitting back
and watching
as it slips though the cracks
in my mentality
and somehow,
that’s okay with me
Game Theory
We live in a pre-packaged society.
For all my life, decisions
have been bundled up
into bite sized packages
set up on a shelf
for me to choose from.
The illusion of choice,
it drives and compels us
to work harder
to work more
to work longer hours
to work more than we play.
But economics is a game
we were always set to lose
and winning isn’t winning
when you’re all beat down and bruised
This is the system that controls us
the system in which we trust
a twisted game of cat and mouse
(we’re all shit out of luck)
Suicidal
i’m tired
completely worn out
after hours of distress
no christmas dinner for me
haven’t caught a bite to eat
between the suicidality
and avoiding the police
wasting away this christmas day
lost on the verge of
a fraying mentality
i should be dead
how do i keep pulling through?
this weird instinct is wired
all wrong
i fight to stay alive
meanwhile, i’m fighting to die
Dead
I can’t even write out
my emotions
without feeling so pathetic
and hopeless and dead,
feeling sorry for anyone
who actually reads this crap,
straining with guilt
for all those who have to
encounter me
Christmas Morning Bleugh
i’m 23, its Christmas
i wake to the perpetual pain
lingering underneath
my shoulder blade
today is just another day
stabbing physical discomfort
emphasises the anxieties
of this damned holiday
i’m already staring
endlessly
into this void on my phone
to drown out the memories
the voices
the sounds
i may not get out of bed today
not even to lounge around
i have hope i can be happier
hope I won’t be depressed next year
Seasons Remorse
Christmas brews steadily
midnight hour draws nigh
meanwhile
I’m still here
at the brink of the world
legs slung over the edge
about to fall and die
as the panic from today
bluntly refuses to subside
too depressed to think
too empty to care
Christmas is so lonely
when you’re sick
and can’t feel cheer
The Problem
restless eyes
beg anxiously for sleep
yet they continue to dart
back and forth
in a dance with the devil
across my iPhone screen
I am the problem
I am society
Dreaming
Your collarbones are milky fine
they would snap
between my fingers
if I pinched you hard enough;
but would you wake up?
Past Life
Do you remember that time
the bone in my shin cracked?
Surely you do, it happened
after you’d pushed me to the ground
and you kicked me
while I was down there
– so hard
we could hear it split
or I could hear it
I still can
in the flashbacks
I can still see you
standing above me
as I cowered
and cried
you were so frustrated
and angry with me
I was scared
and apologetic because
every time you hurt me
we knew it was my fault
it was late at night
after I had been out
to my best-friends
21st birthday
and you’d been out
smoking meth
but I didn’t know that
and you didn’t like it
when I went out
but I didn’t know that
and I didn’t mean to
make you mad
when I came to bed upset
about a matter from the function
I should have left those
feelings there
and I wish I could have
stopped you
and explained
that I didn’t mean to be
distressed and upset
I’d take it all back
if I could
fifteen months on and
the cracks didn’t set well
might not have healed at all
I still relive this moment
this grand decline or fall
on a basis that is daily
I stopped running my fingers
over the ridges in the bone
because there is no point
in remembering
that you’ve left me broken
and alone
Fresh Start
Fresh sheets
feel crisp and new
like this bond we’ve formed
the love you have for me
spanned across the years
is graciously welcomed
you are wonder
you are care
guide me, darling
I need you here
Personally disordered 