Poem

I am an abandoned burning car

In the middle of the desert

And I am on fire.

 

My engine croaks

and my body groans

as the flames warp

and disfigure me

My shape,

My colour.

 

My engine oil boils

burning like hot lava,

Plastic melts like butter

around me.

 

Flames lick at my feet

trying to drag themselves up

my raging body

to engulf me

entirely.

 

My paint peels away

so delicately almost like

a second skin.

 

And then you see

what’s really underneath.

An Ode to my Mother

you carried me with you,

you created a monster,

you gave birth to a girl,

whose mind is an impostor.

not what you had in mind

when you wanted a baby;

you spent half your life

trying to save me.

I know you tried to do

everything you possibly could,

you always tried to love me

the way a mother should.

I was born broken

in sickness and in trauma

but its not your fault

I never really had a father.

I can only promise to forgive

but I’m sorry I can’t forget,

that you spent half your life

living in regret.

your hurt and hatred

passed onto another generation

such tragic magnetic chaos

from an awful situation

I can’t thank you enough

for everything you have done

I’m sorry I can’t be something better

but whats done is done.

even when I’m mad

or when I think I hate you,

you are still my mother

I can’t do anything but love you.

I could shout a thousand apologies

I could stand naked in the rain

but that wont make up for anything

or any of this pain.

I am a part of you

you are a part of me

we carry the same pain

the same burden, unfortunately.

I can’t think of the right words

to tell you how much I love you,

or to explain how I would break down

when the day comes I should lose you.

I can only try to appreciate

the little things you do

this is an ode to my mother

I love you.

 

 

 

Playing Host to a Ghost

Every morning I wake

with misery as my company

it’s a rude awakening

I cannot forsake.

It drags me out of my slumber escape

It pours me my coffee

although I am still not awake.

I feel trapped inside a raw body

that was never meant to be

but I put on a brave face

so nobody can see the real me.

I hide behind my smiles

and the jokes that I make

but every time I laugh,

a piece of me it takes.

My broken brain belittles me,

it is not fooled by my charm

it knows my own self destruction

it praises my self harm.

I brush my teeth

I put on my clothes

then hide my scars in the mirror before anybody knows

the deep and dark suffering

I live with every day

I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy

to feel such overwhelming pain this way.

Even when I try my best

and do what “normal” people do,

there’s nothing in this world

that can truly pull me through.

It’s like my pain and my darkness

have become one with me

but I have become so good at hiding it

even I sometimes forget the suffering in me.

I am broken, I am scarred

I am so imperfect in my anger

that I hold onto it so much

I even lash out at strangers

even the people closest to me,

they try so hard to understand

but they underestimate my misery

and how its company holds my hand.

I feel like such a failure

a resentful fire burns in my soul

my emotions are my enemy

and they are something I cant control.

To feel so alone and so misunderstood

it creates an emptiness in your heart and soul

whilst you brain fights the evil with good.

See I’m not a perfect person,

I admit my wrongdoings,

attempt to repent my sins,

but when I was born it was too late;

the trauma had already began.

I cant blame everyone for my flaws

not all the time at least,

because underneath this masquerade

is Beauty and the Beast.

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde,

they live in complicated harmony

battle with themselves

and fight others constantly

pushing people away

even the ones that mean the most

they never gave up on their dreams for me

even when my body was playing host.

I wake up most days

not sure of who I am,

I don’t think I’ve ever known,

I could never understand.

So you see its hard for me to open up,

to explain my own fucking mind,

when it feels like a long time ago

I left a part of me behind.

To never feel like you belong

you believe your own head

when it says to you you’re worthless

and that you’re better off dead

trust me I have fucking tried,

but for some unknown reason

I sit here still alive.

Even after every bad thing

that has happened to me

I believe everything happens for a reason –

maybe my life is just meant to be.

 

 

Sink Back Into The Ocean…

This is a monologue I stole from the end of the last episode/season of The Affair which resonated with me so much I just had to share it.

“What in God’s name do you think you can do to me that I haven’t done to myself a million times? I have been in pain my entire life. And maybe that’s what makes people think that I’m weak. And maybe that makes people treat me like some sort of receptacle for all their grief and rage and disappointment, but I am fucking sick of it.”

“I just want to live a different life,” she says. “I want to live a different story. I’m still young. I can be someone else. Someone who deserves love. Someone who can be happy.”

The frequency of my inadequacy

The frequency of my inadequacy

vibrates with hate and indecency

it constantly disguises itself as

a trustworthy friend who ceases

to evade my utter lunacy

yet so brilliantly

fucks my life over entirely

in its entirety

impulsively burning bridges

with such self deprecation

That I stand there in dumbfounded

fascination

As I watch the flames

burning

my cheeks with shame

and humiliation

My very own severe degradation

It’s like I can’t even help

my situation

It takes it toll

And I fear I can’t hold it in

much longer

and though I am stronger

I am still only human.

(Petty Treason for) Amnesia

How it feels to lose your memory after significant trauma and/or triggered depression.

An analogy for amnesia

Imagine you were born out of hate and not love

Like you were a mistake on purpose

You grew up with memories

That you can’t quite illustrate

The lines are blurred

And you’re sure it’s a dream but can’t quite pinpoint when you fell asleep

If only you could wake up

Then you would know if it was real

or a figment of your imagination.