The clammer of the overthinking overwhelmed mind
chattering away with itself like a overused hard drive.
Hope, but she is a caged bird waiting for her master
faith but all faith is enslaved in disaster.
A sonnet of despair, a song of solitude
a monologue of filth and the rude
a innocent boy and a prude.
A crazy overbearing self talk squawk
a chalk drawing of heart that’s been erased.
A penis looking up at the sky
A black dog biting its owner
A loner waiting for the strength to cry.
Freedom from attachment
but a wanting to be engaged and attached
Discourse divorced a face scratched.
silence like a scream
a dream turning into a nightmare
a blank stare
a daydream being expelled.
Hell carrying on into a lonely hello
An eye open that cannot be shut
a slut shutdown clown
love becoming only a noun.
Written in creative writing class.
It’s 3 am and I still can’t sleep,
When I think of the bullies at school I weep.
In creeps the hunger to cut and purge again,
The cut of the knife hurts me, though it focuses the brain.
Droplets of blood drip onto the floor
Dull and red, one blood stain more.
In my heart loneliness slowly kills
Making me feel isolated and numbing my will.
My parents are caught in their own private war,
Unaware of what’s happening behind my bedroom door.
My parents are furious at my falling marks at school,
However they haven’t noticed the cuts on my arms at all.
I am left in this house which feels unsafe and unlike a home.
I panic when I am left to my own devices all alone.
My breaths come fast, uneven and I feel sick,
Sometimes I can’t breathe at all, my heart races too quick.
When I was at primary school I had good friends.
These days I feel let down, they’ve turned out to be dead ends.
It’s a shame they all left me and shot through,
now bullies flock around like vultures picking at all I say and do.
Last Tuesday I bunked school and spent it walking around town
people stared at me, making me feel even more down.
I was feeling as if no one understood
So I went to a river near a wood.
I made for my house when it was time to go home,
but the school had already contacted my Mum by phone
My furious Dad threatened me with grounding.
I said “I don’t care! I like my own surroundings!”
The truth is I don’t want to feel anything anymore,
So I pick up the knife to cut myself some more…
Yeah gold plated
What’s underneath your skin?
Life sold cheap
You reap what you know
Where is it getting your mental health?
To be a make up covered scar
Instead of a star
Chain smoking to fill your time
Life is lived through the eyes of grime
We are in your little band
Miserable we still don’t understand
Life in conflict makes a good story
You tell yourself I don’t want to be ordinary
Debt ridden though and poor
You’re fighting your invisible war
and yet the people and the politicians don’t care anymore
You tell yourself it’ll get better
The glass half full to aspire
Lights your fire
are you burning bright
Or burning away.
In dark places before we can be found
depression the hangman’s noose
won’t let our feet touch the ground
Won’t let us loose.
Remember the hope we had as children
don’t tie the knot and even when the darkness haunts
remember no mans an island
some of the people you don’t yet know as friends
will cry for you in the end.