Two hearts ignited
Over long conversations
When two time zones merged

'Look at me'*
She spat at the mirror.
'What's wrong with you?'
'Everything is wrong.'
She stares at herself and wrinkles her nose in disgust.
'My hair is limp, my eyes look dead, I'm gaining wrinkles and I'm getting fatter.'
She sighed and frowned hard at herself.
'You're very ******* yourself don't you think? You have positive qualities inside and out.'
She stared into her own eyes with a venomous glare.
'No. I don't. I'm unpredictable and unpleasant and...'
'And...?'*
Her eyes welled up.
'Different.'
'You have a mental illness... You cannot help that.'
Her face turned from the mirror wanting to smash the image of her face into a million pieces.
'At least if I were beautiful on the outside it'd be different to how I feel inside.'
'Well how do you feel inside?'
'Misunderstood, abnormal, confused, different and ugly, very very ugly. I wish it were as easy to fix a personality disorder as it is to fix a blemish.'
She avoids her reflection as she leaves the bathroom and continues on with her day.

I feel most lonely when sitting at my computer.

There is the promise of knowledge, creativity, friends, love, companionship, shared ideals and inspiration.

But the reality of constant connectivity is quite different.

Bullying goes on outside of school.

Oppressive people find each other and a platform to taunt and torment their victims.

Idiots band together and spread stupidity like a modern black plague.

Intelligent ideas are challenged and the people who thought them up as stupid.

Creativity is put down and judged.

People are separated instead of united.

And love? Love seems to be non existent as the ignorant people who turn on their computers to put down good and promote evil don't even realise that there is a real person on the other side of that screen, and even then some do.

My news feed is full of bad news.

Full of sexism, ****, inequality, torment, animal abuse, war, ignorance, stupidity oppression, child abuse and ultimately hate.

I realise the collective imagination is dying when I can't even remember what it is I did before this accursed computer came into my life and took over.

My rewards are nothing but imagined friends and fake conversations over text, we're communicating but not connecting, something in me longs to be back when if I didn't meet my friends regularly we lost touch because that is how real relationships are supposed to work.

With care, effort, meet ups and real conversation.

Emotion instead of emoticons.

Care instead of clicks.

Laughter instead of likes.

When photographs were precious personal memories rather than a trophy of 'look where I am' 'look how pretty I am' 'look at how much fun we're having' and sharing them meant a coffee or a few beers and a trip down memory lane flipping through dusty photo albums and laughing at your awful clothes, make up, hair and the state you were in rather than scrolling back through your online albums alone and commenting on how horrendous your photoshop jobs on some of them are.

When people were living their life for themselves rather than living to try and impress others.

When it was face to face rather than facebook to facebook.

I feel most lonely when sitting at my computer.

I am quick to cry and to anger
and people think I'm strange.
They don't see how hard I try to control it,
I know I'm seen as deranged.

Emotions can be overbearing
and it's difficult to stay quiet
when someone upsets me
It's simply not easy to hide it.

I guessed for a long time that the issue was with me.
But I thought I could watch maybe learn their technique.
For keeping a cool head when things get heated.
Instead of losing it over nothing and feeling totally defeated.

I was wrong it turned out.
I don't have breaks I have border as in
borderline personality disorder.

I got a diagnosis
and was incredibly afraid
that people would treat me like someone
who'd contracted the plague.
While I wasn't right,
I wasn't totally wrong,
mental illness is unfortunately
still mostly ignored.

If I was unwell with a headache,
people would ask
'Are you okay?'
'Here I've got Panadol Actifast.'
But when the ills
In the mind and I say
'I'm feeling down'
9 times out of 10 people get freaked out.

So it's tough when you're shamed
For having a disorder
A lot of normal people suffer
So could your son or daughter.
So next time you hear someone say
'I'm feeling down.'
Do me one favour
and please,
just don't freak out.

It's hard enough already dealing
with this day to day
without having friends
turn their backs and walk away.

Idiots don't do drugs.
Think about the statement,
you may disagree initially
but the more you ponder it,
the more you will realise it is true.

Sure everyone experiments,
smokes a joint, pops a pill...
They have a good time,
they leave and go home
thinking 'Yeah that was fun'.

You won't find the bodies of idiots
going into decay
from addiction to a substance
that they need in their life
to escape from the weight of reality.

You won't see below average people
question their ideals
or moral standpoints
you won't hear them questioning
the world around them either.

You won't find a stupid person
crushed from self doubt
and turning to a substance
to feel better for a time
because they simply don't think that way.

These people don't do depression
or mental disorders
on the contrary
I've found many an idiot
claim they don't exist at all.

It's a frightening thing to think
that a ****** addict we pass on
the street could possibly have the answer or cure
to world hunger, cancer or aids locked
away in their brain and even scarier that it will die with them.

I fear for our society
idiots are taking hold
and so full of confidence
that their ideas are great
while brilliant minds fade away without a trace.

You know that pain
the one that creeps in
from the edges of your mind
in the early hours of the morning
as you lie awake and think.

The one that furrows your brow
as you stare at the ceiling
watching shadows move
as sleep evades your
exhausted body and mind.

The one that eats away
at good memories
and solid trust
in relationships
you thought were unbreakable.

The one that brings up
awful memories
and so much guilt
about things that
shouldn’t even matter anymore.

The one that feasts upon
your self-esteem and confidence
and leaves a mere husk in
your wake after yet another
sleepless night.

You have taken everything
I have and this is the time
you choose to ease up
and leave me completely
and utterly alone.

And where am I to turn
to now, without even bad
feelings for company?

As I lay in the darkness
Playing with shadows
Entertaining phantoms
That may never pass
The moon slowly ducks
Behind some houses
The sky is still dark
But a solitary birdsong
Cuts through the darkness
Like a knife
A lonely but brave call
To the sun to free it
From the darkness
So it may spread it's
Wings once more and
Take flight.
The solitary song
Continues sad but
Brave and beautiful
My heart hurts
For this tiny creature.
For how can it trust
That the sun will
Respond to it's lonely call
As it echos though the still night?
But then through the inky darkness
As the silence settles in
Another faraway song begins
To ****** through the night air
And another and another...
Beautiful brave calls
Determined to break the darkness
In their unity.
Different sounds echo in
A chorus across the already
Lightening night sky,
As though their very calls
Are strong enough to call
Forth the sun
And pull it up by it's roots
And for a moment I nearly believe it.
The chorus grows louder
And more diverse
Pretty song birds
Twittering sweet notes
To the lush low of seagulls
Calling to the sun to rise up
And suddenly as if
Beckoned by their calls
A single ray of sun breaks
The horizon
As their song
Hits a crescendo
And then a lull
As though temporarily humbled
By the sun's answer
To their call
Before bursting
Into full chorus again
In celebration and awe
As the sun rises
For another beautiful day.

When I was young,

I found out I could become invisible.

I didn’t notice straight away,

but there were moments over time,

In the day to day where people,

Would see through me,

As though I was air.

It took time to figure out,

As all skills do.

But it seemed the more I desired it,

The more it illuded me.

At the moments I needed it most,

It was not there.

And at the moments I wanted to be seen, or helped, or loved…

It worked.

It arrives,
Unnoticed, unannounced.

Quiet,
At first.

Slow,
Seeping, dripping.

I put it down to a few stressful weeks.
I carry on.

It unpacks,
Worries, anxieties.

Gently,
For now,

Tiptoes,
Whispers, creaks.

‘It will leave soon’ I think ‘It always does.’
I keep going.

It settles in,
Getting comfortable.

Getting louder,
And louder.

Banging thoughts,
Insomnia.

‘Please don’t be happening again’.
I shuffle along my daily routine.

Claws in,
Insidious.

Screaming,
24/7.

Shame, worthlessness,
Hurt.

‘Please go away’.
I’m barely coping.

Growing roots,
Into my brain and heart.

Blossoming pain,
With every beat.

Emptiness, loneliness,
Abandonment.

Silence, Stillness,
‘I can’t move, I can’t cope.’