Inundated with love & affection
still chose to perforate all scar tissue encore
midnight summons a portion of scruples to perform
a bowl of shredded paper cut of the imminent dawn.
What makes you anxious? – the cocoon asked .
Immediate response ?
I want to run away .
The cotton wool opportunity of turning into some thing I’ve never been fills me a desire to run.
I’ve always wanted to fly!
Darwinite if it means i can feel fire
In my belly
Leave behind the sycophants of past.
Presented with the discomfort before the freedom installs a stony face
I finally replied: I want to run from your question because the master of my own fate made me question why I didn’t say I’m the master of my destiny
I sat on the toilet waiting for an answer
A brainwave to collide with my why.
I know a special girl whose heart is full of sunshine .
She dances her way around the world to deliver her own special punchline
She laughs so distinctly that people cannot help but become infected
It is a sight to behold when this observation is detected She is gracious and kind and is delicately inclined the phrase ‘she is an angel’ are the only words that come to mind .
Her name means beautiful-that of body, mind and soul and to have her touch so many lives confirms her title role.
She is my modern day princess -so noble and full of grace I love her with all my being and she is a person that I cannot replace
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my sweet child. You are the true gift I found it in your innocent eyes and that was the day my world truly began to shift.
*TMA Submition for Open University- Year one MA -Creative writing- fiction genre
Write to recover. Write yourself out of a panic attack. BUY a book. Look both ways before crossing the road so you don’t get mistaken for Avante Garde road kill.
(Reading the book- ‘poems for a world gone to shit’
Here’s one I wrote of to add to poems for a world gone to shit. A post-suicide poem I wrote in 2018. For the record, my mother didn’t call me this. She called me worse. I’m seriously joking now.
She is the rose.
And in my darkest hours, when the air extingushes all light. Hopelessness hangs heavy, spongy and dense.
Above me it hovers, a cloud with a fierce clout. I scramble searching to strike my last match.
Unable to see what is right in front on me.I hear the mirthful tinkle of a giggling child. A purr from a serene feline.
And my senses are distracted yet aroused.
I remember to always look up.
The rain still pelts down furiously. The wind whips me with absolute vehemence.
I see the silver lining…. And my soul is renewed with inner joy once again.
Bear change to mind
Get the facts -don’t bunker down with myths set in era’s
assonated with mercury outlined by hate.
The insane are violent. They murder our children.
They should be put away in a state of silence.
Media hype sensationalise stories to feed your imagination – they profit from.
Ill people who usually die by their own hands – strangulation or when man makes fire.
The insane are weak and lack willpower to get on with life – they scrounge the benefits system.
Watch reality tv and wed misery -cutting the wedding with a carving knife.
It takes strength and courage to live with our selves and pretend all is alright – People need to be signposted to treatment -to gain insight.
The insane must be institutionalised – criminalised for they cannot get better.
In bygone eras physical impairment and oddities were social pariahs to socialite invitees letters.
Insane people and I have nothing in common.
Please, take your insults away from my blissful ignorance
Our circumstances can change in a heartbeat. Worlds have been turned inside out to all humans including your current Destiny upcoming deliverance
Post traumatic disroder
Borderline personality disorder
obsessive compulsive disorder
attempts to get it right
a perfectionists manual in self destruction.
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