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2020 Vision

There were clouds all around me,

Swirls of grey fog in my head,

My shadow felt like nobody's,

But Lonely became my friend.

My heart drove my mind insane,

I thought I had people to blame,

But the choice was mine,

I learned to say goodbye.

Goodbye to old friends,

Goodbye to my lover,

Goodbye to self-hate,

Goodbye to last summer.

I clicked the lock and threw away the keys,

Turned the other way,

And paradise was facing me.

Lonely took my hand and said "come on let's go",

The more I trust her, the more I grow.

I take all my steps forward,

But I'm not scared to look back,

Because although old times can be awkward,

Those lessons keep me on track.

Nineteen was my lucky number,

And I had changed my mind until now,

Emptiness made me feel hunger,

To set me on the prowl.

Lonely says we only hunt in the night,

When it's dark and quiet,

The mind can feed its appetite.

I think I like Lonely,

She lets me be free,

When I stare into space and take a moment to breathe.

When I am Lonely's company,

She is my focus and helps me to see.

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A whole new home

I was almost whole before he came around.

I had just enough space for the right person to come along and fill me right up.

I was loving, smart, a leader.

I had goals, I liked being on my own, i was confident.

I was happy.

I was a pristine home.

I gave him the key. Only him.

He entered my home and graffitied the walls with foul words.

Soon the walls started crumbling.

I was no longer a home for myself or anyone else.

My structural integrity was compromised.

Building a house is a long, strenuous process.

It's an expensive process.

If you don't have the means nor the funds,

The house cannot be built.

The fire in the hearth didn't go out when the house fell down.

It engulfed the rubble and continues to burn.

The flames remind me to start from scratch.

Because there is nothing left to build from.

Not a thing to be salvaged.

I must build a whole new home.

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I wish I had a mum, a dad, a sister or a friend,

To hold my hand when I get sad,

Instead of telling me I need to keep my head up high,

So that I can eventually reach the sky.

I don't want to do anything other than cry.

I've lost my home for a long time now.

I thought I found one in him but I was wrong.

He was my home but I was his nightclub, his bar.

Somewhere for him to have a good time.

A one-way transaction.

A "see you later" at the end of the night.

I guess he was already comfortable in the pockets of his own mind at the time.

Lucky for him.

My home was invaded when I was nine and I've been looking for a new one ever since.

I was forced to leave by the beast,

Or live in misery for the entirety of my young life.

So in the pursuit of happiness I relocated to a new premises.

Almost as soon as I thought I found my haven I vacated.

This space was not mine.

It never would be

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No Control

Sometimes life slips away slowly,

But quick enough to keep you holy

Brought me to my knees and I cried every night

To Jesus Christ to take me back to a better time

When your heartbeat was mine

But the problem is your mother doesn't like that

Too threatened to notice you're not on the right track

Substitutes letting you pay bills for driving you to take pills

You'll never know what real life is

Because you're still stuck being a kid

Fuck,

It's frustrating to watch someone you love

Get so fucked up by the people who share the same blood.

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To the gypsy

That remains

Her face says freedom

With a little fear

I have no fear

I have only love

And if I was a child

And the child was enough

Enough for me to love

Enough to love

Gypsy- Fleetwood Mac

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I got sick and I wanted to come home. I wanted you. You were it. The fire in the fireplace, the candles on the dining table, the shaggy rug under my feet in the moonlight. I just wanted to be where you were.

Home

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Sometimes you need the veil for the veil to be lifted you know?

Clarity can't come if you were never clouded.

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Reflections

Mirror, mirror on the wall,

Who is the one I will love above all?

The boy with a stormy mind,

And arrhythmic confidence,

Who despises his own reflection,

That became mine?

Face to face,

Heart to heart.

We beat as one.

Instantly we are passionate and wild and free.

We are the same in many ways so I don't look for differences .

I just see him inside a part of me.

He's my inner dark cloud,

I want to let him out.

I want to heal the scars that I've fought so hard to heal inside myself.

Let me hold him,

Wash him,

Love him.

But when I reach out there is only cold glass.

I'm persistent.

I want happiness. Let's be great.

So do what I do,

And do as I say,

Maybe our reflections will touch one day.

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“Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”

— Jodi Picoult

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“Letting go is to love yourself enough to look at the past with a different perspective. It is to accept that you can’t change the past, but that you can change whether your perspective poisons or nourishes you.”

— Steve Maraboli

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“But never have I been a calm blue sea. I have always been a storm.”

— Stevie Nicks, Storms (via music-and-quotes)

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“Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish.”

— Herman Hesse, Siddhartha (via books-n-quotes)

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“Don’t let your loyalty become slavery. If they don’t appreciate what you bring to the table, let them eat alone.”

— Unknown

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So I found this poem I wrote when I was 16...

Foreword: I guess when I look at this poem retrospectively I come to realise that I thought that poor mental health made me unworthy. It made me dirty. The though of sharing my inner troubles seemed to make me feel disgusted in myself. It made me feel like by just sharing the darkness inside of me at the time was like giving too much of my self to someone. Depression was a glorified disease that I had to keep locked up in it's treasure box. Noone else could have it, because even if I couldn't have anything else I wanted because of that big grey cloud, it was the only thing I had and it was mine. It was the sacred thing that defined who I was and what I was feeling. Sharing my secret, sad, inner self seemed to make me some kind of slut. Giving away too much of myself.

Looking back, I wish someone had told me that it wasn't wrong to feel this way and to ask someone for help. I wish I knew that I was worthy even though I was sad and disconnected. I wish I knew that I was still allowed to feel beautiful even though I had ugly, destructive thoughts.

Whoever you are about to read this poem: you are allowed to be sad, you are worthy, let yourself be seen. You don't have to be "clean."

...Clean...

I feel like every little part of me is stripped away.

Every shred of innocence, all my dignity, is just thrown away.

I regret opening my mouth,

I suffer with my mental health.

I'm usually introverted,

And extremely imperfect,

Thinking is such a burden on me.

I just want to be clean.

I just want to be clean.

I want to be honest,

And I want you to trust this but this isn't a part of me that should be seen.

I just want to be clean.

I just want to be clean.

Clean,clean.

I know I did nothing wrong,

But the curtains have been drawn.

There's a storm raging inside,

Like I've ingested cyanide.

I haven't, but I often think about suicide

It's a constant anxiety,

Not being free, not being clean.

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Electrified Violet

This time it’s a different type of blank.

It’s like all the colours of paper but without writing or pictures.

This time I'm a silent violet.

I’m middle ground,

I’m longing,

I’m reminiscent,

I’m hopeful.

I’m not quite happy but I'm not quite sad;

Some would say that I’m grey,

But that cloud reigned over me for long enough.

It’s blowing away with the wind.

I hope the wind will blow harder for me,

And I hope there will be lightening to strike up my purple sky;

Electrified violet.

I’m not ready to be another colour just yet.

Just a better version of the one I already am.

That’s my solace. 

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“I like people who have a sense of individuality. I love expression and anything awkward and imperfect, because that’s natural and that’s real.”

— Marc Jacobs