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2.0k · Dec 2015
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
Yesterday’s thoughts like white-water crashing
These are fainter today, like a babbling brook
Not quite abated but more still.
Allowing thought and deed to harmonise,
Even for an hour, I’ll take it.

The image of my loved ones etched,
My child, now a woman, forefront always
The absolute best of us personified
Love is the unbreakable bond between us
Come feel, hear the quiet and smile with me.
1.3k · Apr 2016
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Almost was addicted to the numbness.
All thought and no deed makes pharma rich.
Give me a sunset and a laugh over pills any day.
Want to live there? Go right ahead.
I’ll be over here, smiling after climbing out.
Hope I'm on the right path :)
1.1k · Dec 2015
Cheer up!
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
Cheer up, he said.
Give yourself a shake, she said.

Take the pills, he said.
Talk to someone, she said.

Stop asking for attention, they said.
Stop putting your drama on Social media, they said.

Stop trying to tell people, they said.
Nobody cares, they said.

Everyone’s depressed, they said.
Everyone’s suffering, they said.

Hide your illness, I heard.
Hide your shame, I heard.
Not sure what to say about this one. People seem to resonate with it though. DJQ
811 · Apr 2016
Today I Win
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
My slippery friend came knocking today.
Sensing my fear yet my unwillingness to yield gives him pause.
My mind is stronger, I am stronger.
Healing is always tougher than surrender, winning is certain.
Two steps back but three forward.
Confused jumble of thoughts like sharks circling,
Waiting for the opportunity to attack.
I drip my blood into the water, daring them to face me.
But the shark is the coward, not me.
I win again today but I may lose tomorrow,
Fighting fists are wrapped, my mind shield fits me now.
I am ready for the good fight at last.
Peace will be my reward.
Up, down, left or right. I have my worries in sight.
770 · Aug 2016
No regrets?
Declan Quinn Aug 2016
One more week,
I didn’t spend the time I should.
One more day,
I didn’t say what needed said.
One more hour,
So you can tell me those things I already know.
One more minute,
So I can tell you the same.
One more second,
Of that silent, perfect love.
One more,
753 · Dec 2015
Never Again!
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
There’s an ugly little pinch at the back of my ear,
What did I say exactly, she’s gone for good, I fear.
After the *****, the stagger, the cab,
I found myself on the couch, adding up the tab.

Flashbacks with nightmares of nasty words,
How could I say that to her! I’m no expert with girls.
The beer and the spirits owe me no favours
And when all’s said, they’re all the same flavour.

The flavour is bitterness, regret and despair,
Fuel for the morning after and pulling out hair,
Out of one’s own head for being so thoughtless
Am I pushing myself to a life that’s loveless?

So I’ll say “Never again” and push for the weekend.
But throughout the week, my resolve becomes weakened.
Until Thursday, I’ll give in and go for “a couple”.
Sick of pints by Friday, I’ll go on the doubles.

So again comes Sunday, she’s still with me.
Her pillow is wet and smudged, my throat is dry.
I can’t lose the memory of that pathetic cry.
I did it again, I let the drink win.

But it’s Sunday so I’ll say “Never Again”
Drinking used to be fun
738 · Sep 2016
Week One
Declan Quinn Sep 2016
Monday’s child hit me in the face,
Tuesday’s child doesn’t know his place.
Wednesday’s child is depressed and alone,
Thursday’s child is accident prone.
Friday’s child is full of remorse,
Saturday’s child is right, of course.
Sunday’s child is an atheist.
Monday, shush
702 · Jul 2016
The Summer Cold
Declan Quinn Jul 2016
Life, ah sweet, beautiful life.
From the sunny days in happy company, joking, laughing, being thankful.
To the rainy days in grey misery, fighting against the wind.
The anxious wind that howls around my ears and bangs on the door of my psyche.
Begs me to let it in, coaxes me to move over and make room.
Sometimes I feel surrounded, it takes all my energy to hold the door.
So I lean my shoulder against the thin, weak portal to depression.
Praying to a God I don't hear to give me strength.
Today the sun is out, warming my skin,
But my bones are still cold.
701 · Dec 2015
Another day another battle
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
Storms are raging, lightning striking all around.
Ugly faceless beasts, rising up out of nowhere.
All want a piece of me.
I fight alone, I cannot fail, I cannot concede.
I have to fight, the alternative is too… everything.

These are no beasts from a work of fiction.
They’re incorporeal but they are very much alive.
Only I can see them, but I can’t.
I know they’re there.

Anxiety, the first, scratching away at the nape of my neck,
Almost like some taloned spectre,
Cold and slick.
Wants me to scratch,
Wants me to give in.

The Low, the negative, the constant.
Not sadness but the absence of joy,
Nothing has relevance.
Devoid of rational thought,
The Low has won today.

Hopelessness, the last, like a warm duvet on a cold day,
Inviting me to lay down under it,
Inviting me hide my head under the cover and forget all else,
Too easy, there is still life outside the head.

Embrace the chaos,
Storm straight into the fire again,
I refuse to burn; I refuse to lie down,
I refuse to let it win.

This is a good fight and it’s worth fighting.
Too many have lost the fight,
Gave into the pill or the water,
My anchors are in the hearts of my loved ones.

I will survive to fight again tomorrow.
694 · Jul 2016
The Wheel Turns
Declan Quinn Jul 2016
Concern turns to worry,
Worry to fear,
Fear to dread,
Dread to torment,
Torment in the mind is no less than others.

630 · Jul 2016
TGI Friday
Declan Quinn Jul 2016
Arise, go to work,
Best shoes, clean shirt.
No boots, nice tie.
No tools, learned to lie.

Sales, sales for sale’s sake.
Why be a builder when you can be a snake?
Office, coffee, ***** looks and sneaks,
Hide from bosses between the breaks.

The weekly crush, looking back, taking measure.
Silent heartbreak from a dismissive gesture.
Nothing lost and nothing gained.
Gimme a shovel, this work’s a pain.

Work? What work? Sitting typing?
Listening to clients always griping.
It’s my fault, they say, for telling the wrong lies.
A P45 and no goodbyes.

I lied to them but never to you,
What? You’re leaving me? Bully for you.
I’ll stay here, make lots of cash.
There’s nothing left but a square of hash.

Work? You work?
What’s that? Tell me!

At least I have my own brand of poetry.
617 · Mar 2016
Declan Quinn Mar 2016
Trying not to think so much,
To not break the rules and such,
Trying to fit my square in little round holes,
Maybe too late to save our souls.
Trying & trying, always trying,
Keeps me busy but always sighing.
Enigmatic parlance for the used and abused,
Mother’s milk for the lost and confused.
Pity and empathy are opposite things.
Misery and helplessness always brings
The wrong ones, the unbroken and the unhealed and the ******
The unhappy, the sick and those body-slammed.
One more battle and one more fight,
Eventually I’ll tell myself I’m alright.
Aren't Wednesdays great! Happy Wednesday poets!
611 · Sep 2016
Now it's new.
Declan Quinn Sep 2016
Did you think I wasn’t watching? Or,
Did you think that I wasn’t there?
Did you think I left without a word or I simply didn’t care?

Did you think of how I was feeling? Or,
Did you think of my clothes or hair?
Did you think, because I was in the room , that my mind was also there?

Did you think that I wouldn't notice? Or,
Did you think that you'd make me care?
Did you think it was alright to move along as if I never was there?

Am I supposed to keep on caring? Or,
Am I supposed to pretend to care?
Am I supposed to move along anyway with all the doubt in the air?

Maybe I should have shouted more? Or,
Maybe I should have lied?
Maybe I should have walked years ago, long before it died.
Wednesdays are always worse than Mondays
604 · Apr 2016
Week one
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
I drowned a little yesterday,
The big brown eyes invited me to swim.
I caught my breath and dove in,
My knees weakened by the clash of red and black.
Tensed and ready for the onslaught,
I placed all my trust in the youthful face.
Expecting nothing but the world to be put to rights.
A little release, soft yet painful.
Like removing a splinter but leaving the cut.
Will I heal over the cut like always?
Will she dig it out and cut deeper to heal better?
Therapy is not for the weak,
But living is.
First CBT session yesterday, went well?
571 · Feb 2016
The eyes have it.
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
Light head carrying me forward on leaden feet.
Someone else’s body under my clothes today.
This lethargy and this ethereal pain, drags.
Drags me sweating out of sleep,
Drags my brain behind my body.
That smile that looks real on my face,
Still doesn’t touch my eyes.
I’m wearing it so long, who’d know?
Same thoughts turn over and over,
One more day becomes one more hour,
Celebrating pointless little victories.
Torturing me, wearing on me.
Killing me the hard way.
Yeah, so this happened :)
521 · Apr 2016
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Orwellian insight provoking apocalyptic visions of prophetic rodents,
Mammalian entropy divining inconsequential apathy,
Veracity overshadowed by facility,
Empathy vanquished by semblances of narcissistic affliction.
Alacrity a surrogate for hollow accomplishment.
Disturbances are null and frivolous in midweek ennui.
Trying something...
509 · Dec 2015
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
Uninspired, even, flat, numb.
Thoughts jumbled, word-hole silent.
Pressure building up behind my eyes,
Screaming only makes me hoarse.
One-word answers to important questions,
Frustration on my wife’s face.
How much can she take?
How much more have I got in me?
How much more can I take?
Will she give up on me, on us?
Will she caress me for the thousandth time?
Tell me it will be alright?
Will she take them and leave me to wallow?
Stay and help or put the boot in?
Leave me nothing but my frightened mind.
Or stay and love me, just love me.
This fragile shell I occupy won’t last much longer.
It’s worn out in thought and deed.
Even I don’t see the value.
I push her away again,
Just hoping she pushes back.
502 · Jul 2018
Accept 10
Declan Quinn Jul 2018
Accept those thoughts in there,
Every one is yours alone.
On an acceptane and gratitude kick #workinprogress
492 · Feb 2016
Shut up, me
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
I feel extra special down today,
Said some things I needn’t say.
I left it hanging to be forgotten,
Building up inside, turning rotten.

To think I wanted her to leave me.
The only one who actually sees me.
Another excuse to justify my end,
I am for certain going round the bend.

She will forgive me, and forget.
But I don’t have many chances left.
Either in or out, it’s getting serious.
When it started we were both delirious.

Soul mates and the best of friends and lovers
Out in public or under the covers.
Family the cement keeping us together,
Gives us strength to brave the weather.

Today it's raining inside and out,
My mind's full of crippling doubt,
No good within and none without
No open space to scream or shout.

Trapped in here with myself and others
Wish I could explain this to my brothers.
Who rally round and pat my back,
When all I want is two bricks and a sack.
One of those days, again.
484 · Feb 2016
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
Did I ask for help?
Easy for those out there looking in.
Shame fills my emptiness.
Pride is long lost among the
Apathy. I reek of
Insensible poetry, palms are
Rooted to the shame of it.
Believe it or not, this is what I write when I'm in a good mood! :) ;
484 · Dec 2015
The Talk
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
After we talked, she walked.
I stood in silence until my pulse slowed.
I breathed again, could see again.
I made her do it, I wanted out.
Picking up the pieces is easier,
If you don’t get broken in the first place.
470 · Feb 2016
No excuses
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
The trouble isn’t ahead of me,
It’s staring me in the face.
I’m looking blankly past it,
Pretending it doesn’t exist.

It’s come to tempt me over
To the edge of the abyss.
Pills stuck in my throat last time.
I know I’ll not be missed.

I’ve hurt them too many times,
I can’t look in their eyes.
Sadness looks back at me,
And hurt and surprise.

There will be no cry for help,
No suicide note, no guilt.
Just a clumsy pile of clothes and,
The useless piles of tears.

Don’t mourn for me just learn from it.
Go and spill your guts.
Don’t be the coward I turned out to be.
Stand up, be brave, no buts.
463 · Jul 2016
Pop, said the boy
Declan Quinn Jul 2016
I have nothing I didn’t earn,
But it took me forty years to learn,
The lessons my wise old Father taught me,
All the gifts of life and love he brought me.
There’s nothing lost in a fight but pride,
And nothing to be gained in taking sides.
Be a clown or wear a sad frown,
The value of everything is going down.
Looking so far forward, they think I’m backward.
Now I’m writing things close to awkward.
Smashing, splashing, is it all a dream?
Waiting for the boat to come back upstream.
Alone with nature, finding peace,
Scribing and thinking, looking for release.
The peace that will never, ever come,
I’ll keep looking anyway, my face is numb.
My heart is sick and all because,
My wise old man is almost lost.
439 · Jul 2016
My Poison
Declan Quinn Jul 2016
I started the story with "Years ago", then it made me think.
The things I used to do each week, began to make me stink.
The high barstool, the flies and lies just put me out of kilter,
So I settle for a coffee now and forget about the filter.

Lies, lies, the wonderful lies and all to get a drink,
Ignoring the scorn on my mother’s face and not bothering to think.
When at last, my good friend said to me, "you’ll have a heart attack",
I settled for a water then and tried to forget the black.

Then the lass who tried in vain, to break me and abuse me.
Kept me under the spell of her and tried her best to use me.
Then one day I looked down at the face, of the child I hold so dear,
But I was just out of the shower then and heading for a beer.

It wasn’t months but more like years, before I lost the notion.
I watched my friends and family too, all drown in legal potion.
Now I sit and write and think, but not about the *****.
Now at peace, and I figured out, when I drink they all lose.
The Black refers to my previous love of Guinness! I am Irish after all!
437 · Apr 2016
Ten 2
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
The thought train has left the tracks,
Derailed by inattention.
Normal day, if there is such a thing?
434 · Apr 2016
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Is it sadness or depression?
Is it rational worry or anxiety?
Do you know the difference?
Do I know the difference?
Is it a choice?
Then choose.
Life skills
431 · Jun 2017
Declan Quinn Jun 2017
Well after midnight, dark out, rise at seven am.
Metallic bangs and piercing whistles going off in my head.
Sleep is like the memory of a kindergarten toy,
Once loved, but disappeared among the trials in between.
Getting up tired for the fifth time this week.

Robotically dress, wash, eat.
If I can stomach anything.
No real thought process forming,
Nothing going on but everything crashing together at once.

My head has a dull ache, not pain.
My limbs are cramped and lethargy rages throughout me,
Muscle and mind.
I try to think of something to look forward to.
Nothing seems worth it today, but I will fight again tomorrow.

Saturday morning, I awake at 7am, so much for the lie in.
Joyless prospect of tolerating those around me I do love.
My friend who is not my friend,
Is beckoning me down into the thoughtless mire
I’ll go on today.

And start all over again tomorrow.
One of the dark days a while back
426 · Feb 2016
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
Do you see me?
Or are you just looking?
Do your hear me?
Or are you just listening?
Do you feel me?
Or are we just touching?
Do you want me?
Or are you just caught?
Do you want me?
Or do you just need me?
Happy Wednesday!
408 · Jul 2018
Vita Et Morte
Declan Quinn Jul 2018
I visit your grave at the cemetery and I feel nothing,
This horribly beautiful and peaceful place.
All I see are monuments to death.
I don't think of you there.

I remember gripping your finger,
As we walked to mass on a Saturday night.
I think of the times we shared a beer,
The times we made each other laugh.

The one time you made us cry,
Was when you left us.
But, left us with loving memories and hope,
That one day we'd see you again.

Now when I visit the grave,
I want to laugh in the face of death
Then tell him he'll never win.
You're in my heart and in my head forever.

Someday we will all marvel at the lives we've had,
Inspired by one great man to some,
Simply Da to me
Dad's birthday coming up, much more fun was taking him for a pint of Guinness and a game of darts
398 · Jun 2018
Declan Quinn Jun 2018
Just because I tell you that you’re pretty
Doesn’t mean I’m taking you home

Beauty is kindness

Love isn’t defined by the size of your waist
Nor how long you can hold my gaze

Beauty is still kindness

I may tell you I love you
Years before I want you

Just be kind to me

Take a piece of me with you
In the dark days it may light the way

Now be kind to you

Love is within
Share it

384 · Apr 2016
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Pulled apart by thought, not horses.
Imagined enemies have become my saviours.
Truth peddlers work for free, liars require restitution.
Free thought is seldom without its price.
I am not always right, even when I am.
Is this wisdom or a pretty collection of words?
379 · Mar 30
Ten too good buddy
Declan Quinn Mar 30
I scoffed at enlightenment,
Then it embraced my battered mind
369 · Apr 2016
Tuesday & Maudlin
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
I got some news today,
Not all bad and not all good.
Nothing resolved and nothing to be done,
But sit and wait for the other shoe,
To drop,
After lights out.
369 · Feb 18
Declan Quinn Feb 18
The silence hits harder than a punch,
Yet time flies by.
But oh so slow when words, once so easy,
become lodged in the deep well of insecurity and defiance.
The dichotomy a crescendo with each silent passing hour.
The fire's smoke, now whimpering tendrils, flit out as if caught in a breeze.
But the air is still, the storm is only raging in my unsettled mind,
And the next farewell may become another Eulogy to love lost.
Monday's can be brutal
356 · Jun 2018
Declan Quinn Jun 2018
In a room full of people there you were.
Two hundred eyes all seeing something different,
And there you were, seeing just one pair of eyes.
A solitary tear escapes my grip and tumbles onto the cold floor.
The tear is pride and affection.
I looked up again and there you are,
Being you.
351 · Apr 2016
My own drum
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Battering wind and rain outside,
They said sunny today, they must’ve lied
Inside, in here, with me and mine,
It’s blistering hot with streaming sunshine.
That’s for today, on a high, exalted.
Yesterday I felt assaulted.
Battered and bruised but never broken.
You’re Damaged are the words misspoken.
Both eyes are open instead of one.
I have my own light, no desire for sun.
I’ll open my door and put out the dark fire,
I welcome you all in to relax and admire,
My new me and my gift to myself,
I’ve taken my happiness down from off my shelf.
I’m holding it now, small and precious.
It’s light and love will refresh us.
Come sit by me, come hold my hand,
Smile with me and the depression be ******.
Extrapolating feelings from an old fashioned man, getting easier. Thanks for being my ear :)
345 · Mar 2016
Much too much
Declan Quinn Mar 2016
Too late? she asked
Too late for, can we talk? He said.
Too late for the talk,
Too late for the words,
Too late for empathy.
Too late to save it.
Too late, just too late.

Too soon? He asked
Too soon, she said.
Too soon for more lies,
Too soon for the truth
Too soon for the return.
Too soon to fix it.
Too soon, but not forever.
Too many too's?
343 · May 2016
Careless or careful
Declan Quinn May 2016
I open up and show emotion.
Measuring levels of friendly devotion.
Self-analysis, mindful and all.
Driving change through the thickest wall.

Listeners smile that indifferent smile,
Awaiting the end, expression banal.
Change the subject, cheer up, be thankful,
Would be easier if I had a broken ankle.

A broken mind is harder to mend,
Hopefully before I go round the bend.
Where there’s life, there’s hope?
Or another cliché to avoid talk of rope.

The sun is out, the days are brighter.
Muscles in atrophy, smile no whiter.
Separating dark thought from obvious fact,
Or maybe I should improve the act?

Smiles that do not touch my eyes,
Surrounded by my paranoid spies.
Time to lift it, time to change,
Seems normality is out of range.

Now at days end, the cold sets in,
Still battling and thrashing the demon within.
My head’s still full of fear and doubt,
But everything’s fine when they’re without.

They don’t have to listen, nor even care.
Just be gracious,
Middling day for the happy depressed
337 · Dec 2015
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
I’m not winning, I’m punch drunk.
I’m just waiting for the next disappointment
I keep getting battered, my best defences are weakening,
It’s draining me of all rationale,
The writing is on the wall, I’m going to end it.

I process these thoughts which lead to the bridge for some,
The blade or the pill or the clifftop for others.
But I’m aware, I know my enemy.
It will not defeat me, this most horrible of foes.
I see him in the mirror each day

This charming face belies the monster within,
This self-loathing, destructive ugly thing.
But it only hurts itself, only directs the worst venom inward.
You think what I shouted at you was the worst of it?
You’re crying! You should feel this in here with me.

This cancerous lump of emotion belongs nowhere,
It’s in my head, but not my heart.
Whenever the lights come on I still have that.
I cling to it like a life raft in the storm.
Then the clouds break and I’m free!

I fly so high it’s dizzying, exhilarating, fulfilling!
Until the fall, not like a dream fall,
Slow, almost inch by inch from a great height.
There is no soft landing, just a thud and the darkness
Then it’s Tuesday.
This is a pretty normal day for me when the depression tries to take me over. I simply refuse to let a chemical imbalance put me over the edge. It's not a battle, it's a ****** war!
331 · Mar 2017
Pay the Toll
Declan Quinn Mar 2017
I’d love to sit and watch the flowers grow,
Never wondering where from or when or how.
I’d love to be hugged and to not try,
To work out now exactly why.
I’d love to hear a songbird sing,
Never asking how they took to the wing.
I’d love to read a thousand more books,
And not once be asked how it looks.
I’d love to exist in peace, and dream,
Of pretty things and those less extreme.
I’d love to sleep with a peaceful mind,
Not wondering why moles are blind.
A fairy tale life, never pondering existence.
Is this the price of my intelligence?
Inspired by a group of people I love dearly who have shown me life is not hard, we make it hard by our reactions to things
321 · Jan 2016
This Infection
Declan Quinn Jan 2016
This cloying, repugnant, invisible disease.
For all these things, leaves it’s mark.
Indelible stains on the heart and mind.
Does it exist at all outside the minds of the afflicted?

Outside looking in, empathy abounds.
This empathy almost impossible unless you are infected.
Words of positive reassurance fall on the blocked ears.
Platitudes flow back from the infected mouth.

Advice and emotional contact mean nothing.
Even from the dearest of friends,
The best of intentions lead nowhere
But to guilt and pain.
Yeah, this happened
317 · Jan 2016
Declan Quinn Jan 2016
I used to think I was broken,
I now know for sure that I am.
There’s not a power on earth to fix me.
Nobody gives a good God-****.
Around me is always darkness and I’m too far gone to fight.

I see nothing out there resembling hope,
No prayer, no words and no light.
The candle burned down and left naught but wick.
All I see is bridge, bottle or rope.
I hope there's someone looking out for me, because,
I’m too far gone to fight.
310 · Dec 2015
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
Light breaks through the dim day,
Raindrops sound like piano on the skylight window, today.
Lifting me, allowing possibility,
Suffering isn’t all there is. Today.

Piano yesterday was smashing, grinding,
Overbearing, oppressive & weighty.
It was a dry day within and without,
No rain to blame for the blackness.

Storm clouds gather and disperse only in my knowledge,
They’re unseen by many, understood by few,
Almost like a reminder that I’m not free.
Yesterday’s clouds were for me alone.

But today is a good day,
Weather without is bad but more bearable within.
This will pass, it has to.
Enlightenment is not only for the devout.
305 · Oct 2016
One of those days
Declan Quinn Oct 2016
My tormentor returned today,
The strain almost broke my mind again.
Took every ounce of strength I had to move.
Now I'm drained, mentally sapped,
Even my bones feel worn.
The tornado of ridiculous thought almost broke down my door.
It took a stranglehold on my rationale.
I almost tapped out, almost gave in.
Then the clouds parted, my was rock reformed,
By a soft reminder of how much I'm loved,
And how much I'd be missed.
Tough weekend under siege
303 · Feb 2016
Passing Phase #693
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
Fill me up, I’m empty
Fillet me, I’m cooked
Use me, I’m blind
Cook me, I’m basted
**** me, I’m done.
Yell at me, I’m deaf
Ogle me, I’m not pretty
Understand, read between the lines
#specialsomeone #becausetuesday
299 · Dec 2015
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
Blistering white light stabs my eyes,
Ripping me from the velvety blackness of dreamless sleep.
The call of the day beckoning me to rise,
But it’s warm in here,
It’s cosy in here,
Safe in here.

Demons of consciousness waylaid,
Fighting their own private battles.
Their fight is none of my business,
But they make it mine anyway.
Coffee, toilet, shower, teeth and
Now I’m as unready for the day as I’ve ever been.
297 · Oct 2016
Monday's Fight
Declan Quinn Oct 2016
Physical body crashed out on floor, eyes shut tight against the torrent.
Emotional demons battling the ethereal in the theatre of my mind.
The supposed friends, the right choices judged to be wrong by the foresight of conscience.
Damning them all to sections of an imagined chart inside this wretched brain, pondering ridiculous questions.
The hard ones,
The final ones.
Who goes? Who stays? Who lives on?
The process splatters what’s left of my psyche all over the inside of my skull.
Nobody wins, no medal for everyone and no certificate.
There’s no just reward.
Is life about this battle or is the raging battle life?
Who, or what, will win this one? My money's on no one
282 · May 2018
Declan Quinn May 2018
I spent the evening walking by a water's edge.
Taking nothing in but the smells and sounds.
Rotting driftwood laying the base over two flies fighting or mating,
In a buzzing cacophony over the soft lapping of the tide.

I see a boat far out drifting rhythmically on a lonely swell.
But unlike me, it's empty, rudderless and aimless.
Or like I was, maybe. But not today.
Today I'm free to enjoy this peaceful escape, just minutes from my back door.

I used to be careful not to slip or trip into the murky black,
I wouldn't have had the strength to get back out then.
It's all me now, no pests, nobody's time but my own.
I like it here, I can just be.
273 · Mar 2016
What cost?
Declan Quinn Mar 2016
What cost these dark days?
What cost these lamenting episodes?
What cost the hours worrying and waiting?
What cost the time spent under covers?

What value the sun?
What value family?
What value in a friend?
What value in love?

Sunshine is free.
Time is relative.
Friends are priceless.
The right Love is eternal.
264 · Aug 2016
The DTs
Declan Quinn Aug 2016
Words and lines flowed into my mind last night,
On the precipice of sleep, delirium tremens in full flight,
The sweats, the wicked dreams and the ****** paranoia,
******* the heels of the previous night’s dreamless collapse,
Holding onto a sliver of reality as the impending dawn slams my head into the pillow.
Again and again, sleep, wake, sleep if you dare and awaken.
The beloved, accursed alcoholic frolic is taking its revenge.
A killing curse hurled at me from a mystery on horseback,
My heartbeat lost its rhythm at the edge of my sanity.
Then the unforgiving morning comes after a fitful, broken rest,
Fleeting memories of Epic, guilty ballads of Kings and sinners,
Of beautiful prose and perfect rhymes.
All lost to me, and the world because of my horrible, loving vice.
I'd love to remember the one I thought of last night...
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