You find yourself slipping.
The cocoon has become uncomfortable.
Your shut door edges open and
Light is not welcome here.
Strange languages embrace your ear.
Meter rises, falls. A heartbeat.
You hear lyrics but taste hell.
The season is ripe for changing.
You are swaddled, swathed,
A straight jacket with no straight answers.
You say slip.
They say head first.
Smile and it’s
All going swimmingly
When they ask
But you know there’s
A fine line between
Floating and drowning
And it’s hard to
Keep your head above
Water when
Your stroke is off
No longer
Your place for creativity,
Just another reminder of failure
When words are dull
And days blank.
it’s easier if
i push you away. bad blood
poisons words i say…
Bang your head on your
birthday. Mascara tears. Knock
some sense into you.
Burnt tar and wood.
Weeks gone now.
An unhappy aspect,
And you need to be
Tidied Up.
Cut and drilled
Sawn and hammered
And you’re as good
As new.
Painted over with
Brushstrokes of life.
Neat. Tidy. Better.
They cannot see
Your canvas
Is ripped, torn,
Rotten underneath.
Hold the weight
And wait
For the collapse.
memories like sludge
mind dragged through mud
thickening, quickening
tears of blood
taste the bitter
spit the pain
tomorrow do it
all again
Used to feel happy
But now just feel dead
Too much of the practical
Trapped in your head
Used to feel pretty
But now just feel plain
Despair if you’ll ever see
Beauty again
Used to feel useful
But now just feel wrong
Life just pulling and
Pushing you on
Used to feel positive
But now lost the flame
How long can you play at
The world and its game?
They offered her pills,
White, blue, red,
Hoping to soothe
A shattered head.
Gave all the therapy,
Talk and listen
Vacant eyes,
See spittle glisten.
Empty corridors,
Blue gowns, white ward
Waiting to find
A life restored.
Her now was never
And never was now.
Fix a girl that’s lost.
Bring her home somehow.
Watch a golden morning
Dawn
With black eyes
And wish for the
Light
To take away the
Unwanted darkness.
Beat, Measure, Rhyme 