Rack my brains
Rake through and find the right memory
Tip it out, squeeze and shape it
Mold it to a more sensical form
Then, observe your consumers
Subtle changes
Until it becomes almost an original story
Forgo accuracy for entertainment
More colourful, less accurate
Oct 2, 2022
Oct 2, 2022 at 5:32 AM UTC
I am a puzzle
that I cannot piece together.
People tell me I'm a problem solver.
I'm an advice giver. I'm an answer finder,
But I can't find the answer, or even the right questions to ask,
When it comes to figuring out my own mind.
I fix things - on a daily basis - but I can't seem to fix myself.
Perhaps someday I will find a missing piece,
Maybe I was incomplete all along,
Or some pieces got twisted, forced together the wrong way round,
And I just need to untwist them,
And the puzzle will be solved.
Maybe one day I'll look exactly like the picture on the box.
Until then I will be what I have always been:
Puzzled.
Dec 19, 2019
Dec 19, 2019 at 3:09 PM UTC
Dive down deep inside your mind
if you feel like drowning
for a while.
I lived by these words, I stayed at the shallow end.
I'm realising that I'm stronger now.
For the most part I can take it in now, I can explore and stay afloat.
I recognise the parts of me that were, and the parts of me that still are.
I let the feelings wash over me.
I stay. I swim for a while.
The water's just fine.
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 4:50 PM UTC
Welcome back. Welcome home.
Your belongings, your things - they are just things, after all - have been waiting for you. Well, not waiting. They had no sense of hope that you would ever come back. They didn't miss you.
But still, when you look at them they do seem to be saying
"welcome home".
You blow the dust off and it's like you were never gone.
You move things around, disrupt the status quo, change what has remained unchanged for so long. Re-discovering.
Re-finding things you thought you'd lost,
memories catching you by surprise.
You can't believe all that you've forgotten,
all that you've lost over the years.
Just little things.
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 3:17 PM UTC
Eight years
Can feel like
A millennium
And a millisecond.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
I need to love,
Love is far too easy for me to give.
But this world's too vast for me,
This life isn't mine to live.
I can't tell you much,
But I can tell you what I know.
I need to love,
I need to love just like I need to breathe.
Rejecting faith and magic never helped me,
But I can't make myself believe.
I can't tell you much,
But I can tell you what I know,
This life's not just mine to live,
I can't live all this life alone.
I need to be loved,
It's selfish but it's what I crave.
And I need to believe in something,
But I have never been that brave.
I can't say much as I don't know much,
But I can tell you what's on my mind.
I need to love, need to be loved,
But love is not easy to find.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 6:18 PM UTC
My mind is a corridor,
It stretches for miles,
Everything is pure white
From ceiling to floor tiles.
You could be there for months,
If you were to visit,
And you would only see
A glimpse of what's in it.
Behind each of these doors,
Lies a well-mapped face,
Or an unfinished novel,
Or a memory, or a place.
At the end of the corridor
There's a room unlike the others,
This is where I keep things
I hope noone discovers.
I keep all the things
That are terrible in there,
I keep in this room
The things I cannot bear.
It holds images, words,
And emotions that frighten me,
I've shut them all in there
And I've hidden away the key.
It holds all of my nightmares,
Contains all my dreading,
And though it's always present,
It almost feels like forgetting.
But the most terrifying thing of all
Is a thought I can't lock up...
*What would happen to the corridor,
If that door didn't stay shut?*
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
My hopes and dreams came to rest
On a city made of smoke and concrete,
Where the air tastes like grease,
And the people look only ahead.
That's what I decided I wanted;
I wanted the underground,
The names from the Monopoly board,
Black taxis at street corners.
I wanted glamour without expense,
The streets without the litter,
The grit without the pain,
And the reality without suffering.
I wanted the city to reach out,
And grab me by both hands,
And confess its undying love to me,
Desperate to prove its worth.
But the city did not care for me,
Its arms were busy juggling
All the people walking or laying
Down on its endless streets.
I got questions instead of answers
Perspiration instead of inspiration
From fast-walking to keep up with a pace
That would never match my own.
I got none of the things I wanted,
And I know that I'm to blame for this
For resting my hopes on miracles,
And the views on picture postcards.
I got sick of my illusions,
Sick of the reality, sick,
Sick and tired of this ******* city,
Sick, yes, but mostly tired.
Maybe if I were famous or wealthy,
Maybe if the city really had
Taken me by the hand and led me,
Maybe then things would be different.
And so my hopes and dreams flew away
On the back of an old wrapper from
Somebody else's fish and chips
I saw floating in a cloudy sky.
But in the end this is my fault,
Because how naive could I be
To think that the capital city
Would ever choose a nobody like me?
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
Are words are just words
Until you group them together
Into a sentence,
And then a paragraph,
And mold them into a story?
Then, definitely, they are much more.
They are your heart
Ripped clean out
And set down neatly on paper,
Dark red fighting against white.
They are powerful,
Inducing smiles,
Or quiet laughter,
Or silent tears,
Or a feeling of awe that lasts for days.
But if you take the rest away
And leave one word sitting on the page
Does it really mean anything?
Is it more than just a word?
Could the same reaction be found?
The truth is, not all words
Are merely words.
If you don't believe me,
Try out "love", or "death", or "forever",
Or a name that could only ever belong to one person.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC