When I say I feel empty,

it's not the way I haven't eaten
in days
and vomited so much
my teeth are rotting.

It's not the loneliness,
when I am lying in bed alone
At 3am and all I hear are
The monsters in my head

It's not my parents fighting again,
Throwing glass at each other
In anger and rage
Right infront of their children.

It's my life.

My life has no substance,
I mean nothing to the world
Empty space
Wasted air.

I'm not sure how to fill this hole
But I'm trying to get better
I'm stepping out of old habits
Finding something new
To focus on
To fill the time
Day by day
As it passes right before your eyes.

Meeting someone,
someone that strikes my fancy,
I take my soul out of my pocket--
expecting them to do the same.

My soul,
like origami that has been folded and refolded,
is worn at the edges and moth eaten,
has burns and scorch marks,
alcohol and coffee stains,
greasy finger prints,
smudge marks,
and small bits torn from it…

Together-- there on the street,
we compare souls on the corners of the world.
Some souls are almost new--
starched and pressed,
in a vacuum sealed bag.

Others, when taken out,
are even more used up than mine--
some break and blow apart in the wind
like glowing confetti,
leaving a dull grey stare in its owner’s pale eyes.

Then after we have compared souls
I fold mine back into its origami balloon shape
and put it back
in my pocket.

Souls are not a different distant object
they do not fit in a lock box.
Every act of compassion…
or apathy,
hunger…
or gluttony,
love…
or ****,
The mundane…
or the extraordinaire
creates a new mark,
a new fold,
a different shape,
a different you….

...than existed just a moment before.

I cannot
I can’t feel

At all.

There is nothing,

My mind is blank.

Writing is getting hard,

My words just

Feed into each other,

Therearenospacestomoveinthismess

I can’t focus longer than

A couple minutes,

If that,

It’s like everything is a dream;

Now and again

I wake up

Into reality,

Then slowly

Drift away

Into the nothingness.

I cannot make out
what you are saying,

Scream at me;

I don’t understand.

Anger takes over me,

And a headache 

That hasn’t budged for days,

Suddenly rips out of me

Exploding into the air

Covering everything within 5meters;

With stardust

And gun powder.

(I can’t tell the difference)

You’re the only thing

That makes me feel

A little more alive

At the moment,

But I can’t even 

Get close enough 

To your face,

Without shaking

And then collapsing

To the floor.

I’ll smoke cigarettes

And get drunk;

Just to be able

To hear the whispers

In my ear

And to block out 
the
muffled voices

in my mind.

I DONT WANT PEOPLE
TO THINK
THEY HAVE TO
DEAL WITH ME
JUST BECAUSE
YOU ARE MY FRIEND
I UNDERSTAND
YOU WANT TO HELP
BUT YOU ******* CANT
AND THATS ALRIGHT.


I CANNOT HELP FEELING LIKE THIS.

DO NOT FEEL USELESS
WHEN I AM;
BREAKING DOWN
AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS
‘Its going to be okay’
BECAUSE THATS ALL
YOU CAN DO,
ENCOURAGING WORDS
ARE ENOUGH;
YOU ARE TRYING
TO HELP.

I DONT WANT
TO BE YOUR PROBLEM
IM NOT ANYONES PROBLEM
BUT MY OWN
.
I DONT WANT PEOPLE
TO FEEL
WORTHLESS
JUST BECAUSE;
THE CHEMICALS
IN MY BRAIN,
ARE NOT RIGHT;
OR IM JUST HAVING
A BAD DAY,
AND I NEED SOMETHING
TO TAKE MY MIND
OFF THINGS.
SOMETHING TO EASE
THE FEELING.


DONT SAY SORRY
THAT YOU CANNOT FIX ME;
AS YOU WATCH ME
INHALE CIGARETTE SMOKE,
FILLING MY LUNGS
WITH POISON THAT
NUMBS MY BRAIN
FOR A WHILE.

IM SORRY
IM SO COMPLICATED,
IM SORRY IM NOT OKAY

(I’m sorry I’m shouting)

BUT THIS IS HOW
MY MIND SOUNDS,
ALL THE TIME
AND
I CANNOT FIND QUIET;
EVEN IN THE DARK CORNERS
THE CRACKS OF MY SKULL
AND THE CREVICES
OF MY BRAIN

Bright light in my eyes,

The suns heat
burning
through my skin.

It’s getting harder to breathe;

Stuffy air,

Filled with dust,

Loud music,

Screaming in my ears.

I can’t keep my eyes open

For long enough.

Hiding under blankets;

And coats,

I’m not sure where this is going,

But I know
I’m far away from home.

You write so beautifully
In the dead of night;
03;47am
Most people are asleep,
Their minds at a rest.

But you;
You are a wild fire,
Your thoughts are fireworks
exploding through your veins.
Every idea that comes to mind,
Becomes art;
Scribbled on a page,
Desperate to form
In the real world.


Thinking is a necessity,
Without it we would go mad.

You’re drunk
And I don’t need this
Right now.
You can’t see it
Can you?
My hands
Trembling,
My voice
Cracking,
When I
Try to
Tell you
Not to
Touch me.

On the verge
Of tears,
You are
Deluded.

I can smell
The toxicity
Of the alcohol
In your breath
And I
Don’t recognise
Your eyes.
There’s something
Different,
About the way
You slur
Your words
And,
Loll your head
Against
My back
As I try
To push you
Away.

You don’t ******* get it,
That it kills me inside,
That a lot of nights I cannot sleep
Trauma
Paranoia
I worry till my bones ache
And I can’t feel my legs.