ThEN too late

Two late

Why is that my fate?

If I'd been here later it would be fine

Maybe a little different by design

But I came early

Couldn't have predicted how perfect they'd be

From smile to smell

I could already tell

The look that reflects and says the same

Why is it so cruel, this life called a game

It might work, or maybe it wont

Who knows what happens when some things dont

For now, move on and never discuss

The secret silence of a one sided lust.

Tick tock

Tock tick.

Click clock

Clock click.

Seconds second

Second seconds.

Life where are you, I'm waiting.

Writing a poem with the wind blowing page after page

The writers mind paralleled by the Sage

Casting the caste of knowledge we wage

Waving words through speech

Reaching the realms of anothers' niche

Yet there aren't ears for the shores of this beach

Watch this sage as he surrenders to the breach.

Why bother

When it bothers to be

It bothers me that bothering is a bother for most

And that bothers me.

Box after box after box after box

Boxers box tonight

Boxing on a stage

Boxing through the night.

Punching, jabbing, dodging

Punching, jabbing, cutting

Two boxers box in the night.

Scribble scrabble shiver shallow

Scribble scrabble shiver shallow

Words are lost in the box their enamelled

Tip of my tongue and bit of my brain

Feeling nothing else like tears lost in rain

Am I just plain? Mental or deranged?

Either answer still douses me with pain.

Eyes open but my mind's sewn shut

Definitely not a pedigree, rather mongrel or mut.

Words that don't reach ears only one can hear

Solitude and silence bounce back bringing only fear.

Dark tones

Dark homes.

Still a child inside

Begging to be unknown.

Shivering in snow

The dark it seems we know

Cowering in the cold

Here I am, behold.

Is the dream of a bird to fly higher than before

Like the spinter running faster dreaming of a greater score

The night sky is darker than shadows caste within the core

Bullets and bombs blasting echoing in the fore

You cannot run when your foes are at your door

Being consumed by yourself is something we adore.

I had a dream short ago where my best friend died. I can't recall how he died, but the aftermath felt real. And I don't usually recall dreams this well, at all.

I feel absolutely broken after that. There's no tool of language I can use to describe how I feel right now.

The worst thing about this is that, I have deja vu dreams - dreaming an event before it takes place - every now and then, this feels like one. Several non moments have passed during my life where I've dreamt moments that happen before they've actually happened, one being when I was at work and somebody said something to me, and I said to them 'has this happened before?' to which they replied 'ehhh...nope', I remember afterwards feeling cold, sick and uncomfortable. I also remember when I was a 9/10 year old asking one of my classmates for a rubber, having dreamt the same sequence, smells, conscious thoughts, feelings as I had in the dream I'd had about the same situation 4-5 months prior to it happening, from the extension of her arm, to the size of the rubber, what the weather was like, peoples faces - all of it very vivid and very real. The only thing that resonates and repeats in each is a collection of words that triggers a sequence that I can only describe as a trigger to awake a memory somewhere in my brain.

No matter what I do it won't change what might happen.

Today has been rotten. And this whole deja vu thing is fucking horrible.

How ironic being somebody with commitment issues yet constantly wanting to commit.

I'm done with feelings

Feelings and more

Done with the thoughts

That lead to no galore.

Im sick of the mental health I have inside of me

A bittersweet thought is something I'll always be.

Accident, or something a little more

A cursed action

Two lovers hate each other for keeping score.

This is my past, present, and purpose

My mum and dad didn't plan me.

Thus I have no purpose.

It's hard to reach out.

Especially when you feel so utterly alone. Not that others aren't going through what you are, but to feel lonely in the sense that you can't trust anyone.

That's also not to say that you don't trust anyone at all, it's just you can't trust them enough. Enough to take what you feel seriously. Not just once, not twice, but knowing when you need - and want - to be heard.

So I feel alone. In this moment, and a lot of the time. A damn lot. Too much.

Today was number 3.

I thought just after I'd tried for the second time that would be it. My mind was stronger back then - but I feel so fragile now, like fragments are permanently going to be missing this time.

I'm hopeful still something may change for forever. Just depends on whether it's a change I'll see.

Goodbye until then,

RIP G.

If all we're taught is to hate, don't expect a different result other than what we know.

Memories cut more than the moment.

As I grow older my mind has started to solder to my heart

It took me years to wonder why they were apart

And it took me an age to see

Without a heart, one's mind cannot truly be.

Breath

If I could fly

Where would I go

Would I breathe like air

Or vanish like smoke.

Would I be there between the very cracks underneath

The little fibres that hold you piece by piece.

Would I be there in the moment that you fade

Taking the last air like a sword swipe of the blade.

Personal Hell

I'm down today

My personality

Faded to the fray.

No smile upon my face,

No teeth on show

Meeting you with grace,

No warm fuzzy feeling eminating from me

Not interested in making another feel glee.

I'm just not well,

So please,

Ignore me while I endure personal hell.