#PoeticAnswers 20 – What Have I Done With My Life?

I never accomplished
What I set out to do with my life.
I’ve been in a series of
Mistimed and unplanned misadventures
Which have led me to this
Period of questioning.

When I was a child,
If you had asked me
What I wanted to be when I grew up,
I would have said
“Astronaut or dinosaur”.
Given I’m not yet extinct,
I have failed in becoming a dinosaur.
And I’ll never be an astronaut,
Just because of who I am as a person.

I failed my four year old self,
And I’ve failed every other self that I’ve been.
But this does not make me a failure.

My car crash of a life
Was defined by an actual car crash.
One 2003 Ford Focus
And a series of somersaults
Helped put me on the path that
I now walk on.
I still need a walking stick in the winter.

But in that fell swoop,
I lost all confidence in myself,
My A in Higher Drama
Suddenly meant nothing.
Confidence was a thing of the past,
Years of youth theatre,
Learning support,
And occupational therapy,
Were undone.

I never stood on a stage for 5 years,
But I found strength through music,
Hiding behind a music stand and a viola,
Hiding under the stage in the pit.
Or staying behind the scenes,
Because no one pays attention
to the man behind the curtain.

But in my mind,
I was nothing,
I was a failure to myself,
A failure to my parents,
A failure to my suicide attempts
And the voices in my head
Only served as a bitter reminder to that.

I spent too long wondering
What am I doing, will I ever be something,
What will I accomplish, am I just nothing?
But what’s the use in wondering
When you can’t watch and wait for the future?
Because when you run from your past
You can only go forward.

If you had told me
That at age 25
I’d have a career in theatre,
I would have never believed you.
Because I always thought theatre was a hobby,
But people actually call me for my help and designs for
Lighting and sound.

If you had told me
That at age 25
I’d be on a stage performing,
I would have never believed you.
But now I’m pouring my soul and surrealism
Into performance poems that
People actually like.

If you had told me
That at age 25
I might not be the killing type,
I would have never believed you.
But thirty-two hospitalisations for
Suicidal behaviour later,
I’m still here.

Maybe I’m not an actor,
A dinosaur or an astronaut,
And maybe I won’t die before thirty.
But life doesn’t always go the way we plan.
Sometimes it’s better.

#PoeticAnswers 17 – If Someone Talked About You The Way You Talked About Yourself, Would You Be Their Friend?

I would be their friend.
I’m drawn to toxicity like
A heroin addicted moth to the flame under the spoon.
There’s so much that I shouldn’t want
But do out of a warped sense of necessity.

If they would be my friend
I wouldn’t need to be harsh on myself.
I could finally cut myself out of my life.
Cast off the shadows of self-doubt
Be the light of my own life.

But I wouldn’t.
Because happiness has never felt real to me.
I would always need someone to drag me down to reality,
Keep me rooted and unsupported,
Leaving me a weeping willow,
Wilted and hanging.

I’ve never spoken highly of myself,
I have no reason to because
I know myself like the back of my hand,
I know the story behind each and every
Unsightly scar, broken knuckle and ugly bruise.

I am the caesarean scar on my stomach,
Cutting away at myself,
Hoping for a new life
But nothing comes.

I am the bruise on the world,
Ugly and unwanted,
Trying to conceal but
Becoming more obvious.

Clumsy, broken, autistic,
Mediocre, lazy, alcoholic,
The monster in the basement,
The monster in the closet,
Could never own up to herself
Could never own up to his mistakes,
The teenage junkie who never grew up.

 

Question from Georgia B. from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 13: What’s Wrong?

Nothing.
Nothing really.
It’s just this tiny,
It’s just,
It’s nothing.

I promise,
It’s nothing.
You don’t need to worry,
Don’t look at me like that,
It’s nothing.

Something?
Maybe something.
It’s stupid really.
You can put your eyebrow down.
It’s nothing.

Have you ever
Felt like less than nothing?
Like your funeral’s being held early,
Like the weight of the earth is coming down on you and,
You’re dying?

Crushing,
Crushing in my head,
Crushing in my lungs and chest,
I’ve stopped gasping for air because nothing is there,
I’m choking.

Choking like
A candle in a glass cage,
It can’t shine or fight anymore,
It sputters and withers, turning to darkness and smoke
And nothing.

Nothing,
I wish I could be nothing,
Because nothing is worse that these feelings of nothingness,
Nothing comsumes, nothing excites, nothing is the only thing that is there,
I’m nothing.

It’s nothing,
Like I told you, it’s nothing,
And I wish there was something I could do,
But I’ve been drowning and sinking into this dark ocean, and, like its waves,
I’m breaking.

Nothing,
Nothing more, nothing less,
There’s a hole like a cavern carved in my chest,
That I’ve dug myself so I can find my heart and make it
Stop beating.

Talking,
I hate talking,
I don’t want to talk about what’s wrong because
It’s not your problem and I won’t be a burden so believe me when I say,
It’s nothing.

#PoeticAnswers 10 – Are You A F*cking Fairy?

What did you call me?
Why the fuck does it matter?
I’m a goddamn person,
Regardless of what
Unintelligent bullshit
You choose to sprout forth.

I have loved you all my life
But I’m not allowed to love someone else
Because you chose to believe that it’s
“Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve”?
Why do I not get to experience true happiness,
Just because I found it differently to you?

I am still your son,
Despite what you have to say.
Whether I’m straight, bi, or gay
I exist.
And I am free to enjoy
Anyone’s kiss that I please and pleases me.

For what it’s worth,
I’m none of the above.
I’ve let myself be
Used and abused
Now I’m not confused when I say
“I am asexual”

I’m not under your roof anymore,
And if loving who I want is a crime,
Then goddamn, I’m guilty as sin.
You can deny, deny, and deny me
But I am nothing wrong in this world
And love is not a criminal offence.

But if being happy with him
Means I’m a a fairy,
Damn right I’m a fairy,
I’m fucking magical.
“Poof”.
You’ve disappeared from my life.

#PoeticAnswers 3: Why Don’t I Want To Live?

Why Don’t I Want To Live?

I have spent too long awake
And my thoughts are travelling
At a million miles an hour
As I try to find an explanation
To justify the non-extinction
Of myself.

Please forgive the 1am ramblings
of this shell before you
But I feel a need for an
Inevitable confrontation
And elaborate invocation
Of my feelings

Dear myself,
Why don’t I want to live?
Seriously, please tell me
Because I’ve got enough going on
And I was going so strong so
Why here and Why now?

I have more than I
Feel and deserve
And life lately has been
As easy as soft-serve
Ice-cream because I’ve been
Pretty smooth and chill

I’ve got a job and an income
Friends I can rely on
So why is my mind
Greyer than the
Aberdeen skyline
In September?

There’s a roof over my head
And pillows and a bed
Yet a lead-lined shadow of doubt
Has cut its claws into my shoulders
And I adorn it and crumble
Under the weight of this dark cape.

Why don’t I want to live?
When my mood started cycling,
I started using training wheels
To keep balanced
But there is still a white light
At the end of this track that I’m riding

I have tried to hop, skip and jump
From pity, misery and responsibility
But my physicality and mentality
Are in a separation battle
And the judge said
They can have me on alternate days.

I have syringed the serotonin
From my brain and painted it on my door
And immersed myself in the real world,
And attended firework displays of
Fluoxetine, clozapine and amphetamine
But dark smoke has choked the chemical light.

Why don’t I want to live?
Am I averse to positivity
Or have light-headed thoughts
Been pit against a heavy heart
In a rigged boxing match
In my skull?

Are my thoughts made of
Shadow puppets
Which can only be cast
With the setting sun?
Even though a shadow of a shadow
Creeps in with the dawn through my curtain.

Or is it more likely
That a material life
Is unfulfilling
And the things that I want
Are not what I need
And depression is more than a metaphor?

Why don’t I want to live?
Why don’t things work
the way that they should
And why do I feel that
I should feel better
Because I have it better than others?

Why are questions easier than answers,
Why is sobriety so hard and
Why won’t this negativity shut up?
Why am I writing a letter to the
Voices in my head asking them to explain
Why we want me to die?

Because I don’t think you understand the
Gravity of the situation,
We live in this same body so
I feel that’s a cause for consternation
For you right now because
I don’t see a reason why I shouldn’t.

What is wrong with me
What is the reason
What is the point
What is the answer
Why don’t I want to live

I don’t know.

#PoeticAnswers 2: Why Does Every Song Remind Me of Someone I’d Like to Let Fade Away?

I wanted to stop listening to love songs
Because every chorus reminded me of you.
Every word was an agonizing, antagonizing
Heartfelt reminder of everything I ever felt.

I wanted to stop listening to metal
Because the bitterness and screams kept me in
A constant state of hate that I didn’t want to feel
Because I could never hate you.

I wanted to stop listening to hip-hop
Because the beat and the bass
Was like our two rhythms coming together
Reminding me of the times we became one.

I wanted to stop listening to classical music
Because the beauty of it all
Haunted me, burning ethereal love notes
Off the paper and onto my skin.

I wanted to stop listening to music
Because every song reminded me of you.
Because every lyric was part of our story
And every melody was a memory.

I wanted to stop listening to music
Because everything was on repeat.
Our soundtrack looped and cross-faded in and around itself,
When I should have let it slow-fade to nothing.

I want to stop listening to myself,
Because I’m playing the same records over and over,
Now they begin to warp and break
And leave grooves and scratches on my skin.

Question from Felicia W. from Facebook.Â