Al: Poems

522 · May 2017

Hiding

Al May 2017

Hiding

Today I laughed, smiled, but it was insincere.
I hide how my personality's split,
I hide with every scar that I slit
Then maybe one day I can disappear;
Life's a party, but I don't want to be here.
It's not fair it's not fair it's not fair it's...
Like every day im taking body hits;
Every breathe I take I'm holding back tears
An unwanted guest, my chest pressed to the bones.
In this dark place is where depression thrives.
When I'm dying's the only time I'm alive.
A test, I'm stressed but I feel all alone
But being alone's the way I survive
Because when my friends go out, I stay at home

341 · Jun 2017

Him

Al Jun 2017

Him

My depression lashes out in his rage;
My body wears the scars of my brain.
He grows like ivy round my rib cage
He exists in all I write, every refrain
My body cradles him like a mere child,
Nurturing him 'til he beats me for strength.
I teach him to poison every smile
He tells me that all of my hatred makes sense
He tells me I'm unwanted, unloved
There's a teardrop every time that I blink
And his signature on my arm in blood
I can't be me, he won't let me think
He will taunt me until my dying breath
For the best imitator of life is death

337 · Jan 2018

Wasted Funeral

Al Jan 2018

Wasted Funeral

We cannot change history,
This even I know, but each day
I still sit in silence
Overthinking every single thought.
Eulogies for every memory
So that I can never forget.
The past is dead and buried, and yet
In every instant
I find myself standing
By its gravestone, recalling its
Every breath, and every broken
Dream it took with it when it passed.

And suddenly, I am no longer
Simply standing, I am sweating with
Shovel in hand, desperately digging
Into fresh ground;
There is not enough space in
Here for two of us
And even so, I fit next to the corpse
Of every moment gone
Perfectly.
The weight of the soil
Crushes my chest and I can
No longer breathe, this is
Where I belong,
Where I know,
I am coming home.

330 · Jun 2017

Dirty Glass

Al Jun 2017

***** Glass

I live in a room
With whitewashed walls
And a cloudy window
As my only source of light

Each morning I wake
To the mould growing like
Leeches, ******* the life
From my view

The windowsill is cluttered
With nothingness
A collection of my belongings
I am happy to show the world

Every day this window
Becomes more and more
Opaque, until I can no longer
Look outside

The walls seem to get closer
With each passing moment.
There is not much room
For me anymore

I scream for help
Somebody to erase the poisons
But you cannot clean ***** glass
From the outside only

I live alone
With only the shadows cast
Through my window for company.
These shadows do not make good company.

This room is all I have

291 · Jun 2017

You are not terrorists because we do not feel terror

Al Jun 2017

You are not terrorists because we do not feel terror

It seems the world has become somewhat darkened
Than the one where we want to be living
With your hatred and loathing and killing
I promise you'll never be pardoned
I promise we won't be disheartened
By the number of graves that you're filling
Because if you want a fight then we're willing
You really don't know what you've started
You commit atrocities far and wide
And hope the future will tell your tale
But you'll soon collapse, your foundations are frail
These acts make us unite, we'll never divide
You try to scare us, and each time, you still fail
Terror only works if we're terrified

Thoughts go to everyone affected by these pathetic excuses for people

235 · May 2017

Depression is...

Al May 2017

Depression is...

According to the Oxford English Dictionary,
Depression is: A mental condition characterized by feelings of severe despondency and dejection,

But for me,
Depression is the sleepless nights,
And the reason I don't get out of bed

Depression is the still unwashed plates
Left by the sink,
The missed calls and the
Voicemails that I never open

Depression is the chipped paintwork,
The shatter glass windows that
I have not got round to fixing

Depression is the skipped meals,
The self-portrait it carves on my wrist,
It controls me like a puppeteer

Depression is the voice telling me
That I am not good enough
Not smart enough,
Not funny enough

The voice telling me this world would be better without me
Telling me I am not wanted,
I am not loved

Depression is the reason I can't treat my friends and family
Like friends and family

Depression is standing on top of the world
And still wanting to jump

Depression is not wanting to die and
Yet still wanting to die

Depression is the hardest battle I've ever fought
And I think I'm losing

This was written with the intention of being spoken word
#depression

222 · May 2017

Time doesn't heal

Al May 2017

Time doesn't heal

You've captured my heart and won't let go
Our love died so why do I still lust for you
When you've forgot every word we said though
I gave you my soul, I trusted you
You burnt me, but still I'm okay with that
I played with the flames that turned love to fire
Since when was I a pyromaniac
If I say I hate you, I'm lying
I was all yours, but you were not mine
Like flowers the love blossomed in the sun
Maybe I wasn't the guy or it wasn't the time
But no matter how hard I try I'm not done
My heart's fragile, it breaks like a wish bone
Just another case of Stockholm syndrome

214 · Jun 2017

Ubiquitous

Al Jun 2017

Ubiquitous

We're all ******* up
In our own special way
So when you tell me this pain makes me special
I'll tell you I'm ill

I'll tell you that every day
My ribs feel like collapsing
Because my chest is not strong enough
To take the daily beating

I'll tell you that fighting
Fire with fire has formed embers
Within that torch my soul
I am burned out

And as the demons
Take up residence in my mind
My thoughts are evicted
Until there's nothing left behind

Each capillary sliced gifts thousands of
Red flags waving their condolences
As I search for a white handkerchief to
Wave in reply

I'm not unique
Because so many others hurt just the same
I don't want to leave
But I hurt when I stay
We're all ******* up
In our own special way

186 · May 2017

Date with a Blade

Al May 2017

Date with a Blade

I have a date with a blade,
But we're just staying in tonight
Where nobody can interrupt us;
Alone.
Where I am yours
And you are mine.

The lamp above us doesn't work
It simply hangs there useless;
Candlelight was always so much more intimate anyway.
Unlike our trust, the flame flickers.
I hold you tight.

We dont like leaving our room,
Too scared of the light, so we order in
I offer to pay for it.
I do.

And as the evening moves on
I tell you everything:
All my emotions,
All my loves,
Hates,
Fears.

I wear my heart on my sleeve;
Is that why I'm bleeding?

Everyone says that in love,
Actions speak louder than words
So you caress my skin and say nothing
Like only a lover can

Each touch so delicate,
You play my body like a violin.
I am a symphony of your movements.
Love scars.

We live in a time where mental illness is romanticised
And those with real problems feel ashamed,
So if you'll excuse me, I must go:
I have a date with a blade.

170 · Jan 2018

Church

Al Jan 2018

Church

An empty altar,
These open bibles left unfinished,
The great doors long since unopened;
I am sat alone in the pews

With only the harsh cold,
Each occasional burst of wind
Through the rusty keyhole -
My only reminder of the outside world.

Am I locked in or is it locked out?

I burrow myself into an
Inimitable twilight concealed behind
Stain glass eyes that tell a
Different tale

I blink and I’m now sat talking
To god-knows-who,
Confessing to sins that I
Have not even committed.

Lord, how I long for something more.

I am trapped inside a
Building I have no faith in,
And I sit, staring, wondering:
Is this all really real?

— The End —