Wednesday, 27 April 2011

Stop The World! I Want To Get Off


Again, I am feeling unwell.
What’s new?
I’m asking myself, almost begging to feel different. For a long time, I have been feeling like I have lost my passion for everything. I used to be so full emotion, and whatever I felt was personified by passion. Now I’m just unresponsive, apathetic.

I feel like I am diminishing, sinking deeper and deeper in to the bed; so low that the floor can be felt and is bowing with the weight I carry on my shoulders.
How, when I have not seen anyone or been anywhere can I feel so troubled? Physically I am fragile, mentally I am not. Maybe this will be my disgrace.
As I’m watching my life go by; days unnoticed, weeks uncounted, I turn my attention to the cars that glide by outside my window. Full of dreams being dreamt, wishes being wished and I have only my own thoughts to argue with.

Sometimes I feel like I have so many different people inside my head that I'm afraid to be alone. I have to have something constantly to focus on, to distract me. I can’t cope with my own mental state and I fear it’s becoming more noticeable. TV is an expected tool for escapism and when I’m with my friends all I want to do is talk, tell them about the voices, the conversations, the confusion, the panic. I want them to reassure me that it will all be okay, something I will never be.

I am projectile-vomiting molten crazy over everything and don’t believe I will ever be able to function socially again.

Friday, 18 March 2011

The Tongue


It falls out my mouth, there is no control when it happens. The sound lashing my tongue dishes out to my poor, unsuspecting love. The war it wages against humanity, like it has a life of its own. My tongue hates humanity, society and all things cute. When it happens, I become the vessel of my empathetic, raging tongue. It is out of control, it tells him them that they aren't right and nothing they do is good enough.

I fear if my tongue ever manages to break free of my mouth then torment would break loose and I would lose everything dear to me. I have tried biting it and swallowing it and all I can to stop the urge my tongue has to be vengeful. It knows my deepest, most hurtful, hated thoughts and decides that if I cannot bring myself to realise or say them; then it will. And because this bottled up potion of hatred and despondency had festered in my mind, the concoction became pure venom, concentrated, undiluted venom that juices up my lurid tongue in to a grotesque frenzy.

My mind has no time to react to my tongue's poison, the damage control my poor, tired mind has to exact in the aftermath of my destructive muscle of speech is too much to bear. My mind is telling me that I need to take control, I need to soften my words; my tongue and mind in battle for the win. As my mind has no vessel of speech other than my outlandish tongue and the venomous prong seemingly has its own persona then the battle has an inevitable conclusion.
The poison spews.
The venom spits.
I have failed.

It wriggles in my mouth like a worm in the moist, post-rain earth and pokes its way tentatively to the surface to scout out its next victim.
The line of fire.
Who can I destroy next?
Who can I make feel as lowly and putrid as me?
Who can I murder emotionally, even for the shortest while?
It's all in the eyes, you can see the knives slitting them open with every word it barks and my mind is witness. It wants it to stop, to love and to nurture but my tongue thrives, my tongue feels this pain and anguish and it fuels it. It fuels my selfish, irresponsible tongue.

I feel the smoke from my cigarette twirl over my disingenuous tongue and soothe it. It rolls over in waves of softening tranquillity to subdue the tongue, calm like the tongue should be.
My mind gains control, slowly. Quiet as a snake stalking its pray; pouncing only when it stills. Ready to apologise, ready to control the uncaged beast and set everything right until I take my eye off the ball and the tongue reigns free again.

Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Bejewelled


Her face flashes before me,
My eyes turn to jade.
Her golden hair,
Her pearly skin;
My mind, she has betrayed.

So, I take my stripe of silver
And slide it along my moonstone thighs.
I watch the rubies spill all over,
Through the diamonds falling from my eyes.

My onyx hair hugs my face
And I let out a breathy sigh.
All my jealousy, all my hate
Is crawling down my thigh.

Elation fills my crystal head,
My eyes turn sapphire once more.
I bandage my tear in coral stripes
And clean up my jewels with opal wipes,
And I wait, until the next time to pour.