As someone with OCD,
And knowing that it is biochemically
Indistinguishable from romantic love, I agree
With those who claim that "love is an illusion"
And point out to those who disagree
That I have found it many times over and still feel that way.

I don't believe in love,
To believe implies doubt, and a leap of faith,
So no -I do not believe in love.
I also do not believe in tables or bananas,
It is simply enough that they exist.
That does not, however, mean it's not an illusion.
Therefore; [insert your own reality/subjectiveness/quantum stuff here]

Love is beautiful, and also an illusion.
If that takes the beautifulness of it away from you
Then you need to realise that illusions are real too,
Just not always easy to understand.

Your performance is to poetry,
What an ****** is to *** -
Finding gems like yours
Makes me go "YES, YES, YES!"

I suppose what I was looking to achieve at first was to end my pain. It really is as simple as that. Just a rather ****** "**** it! I give up!" sort of feeling. I didn't like myself anymore but neither did I dislike myself either. It's a hard feeling to convey if you've never felt it, although i've never been comfortable with people suggesting I was "numb". "Numb" is how the doctors got me to convey such feelings and no doubt in the confusion of the multiple changes of doctors, nurses and support workers (It was an average of a different doctor every 9-10 days for the first two months), coupled with the no doubt hastily scribbled notes and vast amount of paperwork on me being handed around, it was probably taken literally on a number of occassions (and perhaps, in the official records, still is). It is not, I feel, a good word to describe how I felt.

Everywhere and everything was a source of feeling. I was just sort of balancing it all out in the middle. I'd still have the majority of the days emotions ticking along normally (well, i SAY normal. At the time it was pretty much rage, hatred and severe depression but at least I have words for these!).  I still have no way of accurately conveying what i mean in words but i think the closest way i can get to describing it is to say it is like a sort of emotional version of simutaneously trying not to think of pink elephants whilst trying to turn yourself into a pink elephant and the feeling you get in between not being asleep and waking up. I realise that that's still wholly unaccurate but hopefully it describes things in a way that's at least understandable, although probably still not relatable.

Those feelings changed somewhat after what was my fourth attempt to take my life. Fourth attempt - fourth method of hastily induced death. I had chosen that particular night a large cocktail of drugs consisting of (if memory serves me right) about 20-30 Quietiapine (200mg) (an anti-psychotic i was being trialled on at the time that also induced sleep), roughly 50-60 hydroxzine (25mg) (an anti-anxiety drug which also doubles as an anti-histimine which reduces the nausea experienced by overdosing) and probably in the region of 150 or so co-cadomol (500mg) (a rather strong painkiller).

It seemed I had all I needed to end my life. I walked down to the park at night, sat in the gazebo and started to take the pills with some lucozade. It wasn't exactly a sombre moment but it wasn't like I had anything exactly to be happy about either. It took about half an hour to take all the pills and that was taking them 5-6 at a time. It was like a sodding pill-popping marathon that i couldn't give up untill they were all gone. Then they were all gone and there was nothing left to do but wait.

Only as I was waiting, it happened. The only genuinely life-changing moment I ever had. It was like I could feel myself slipping away and a thought came to me. Words that, for the months preceding that moment, would've caused me to fly into a blind rage, to scream and cry and shout. Words that I had tried rationialising against for what felt like an eternity whenever they were directed at me. Words that from the mouths of doctors filled me with hate, and from friends filled me with tears now came to my mind both as old companions but now, strangely, also as new friends;

                                                              There's nothing more you can achieve...    

                                                               You've done all you can...

                                                               Move on...    

It's not a case of "I don't think i've ever been as happy...". I know i'd never been as happy. So much relief, so much tension in one fell swoop just vanished in the time it took to think a thought. I've experienced crying with happiness before but i sobbed that night. Big wails of happiness that got stuck in my chest if i tried to hold it, tears streaming like a tsunami down my cheeks and just so much happiness that i couldn't contain myself. I wanted to sing and since there was no reason not to i did, songs of freedom, songs that meant the world to me, songs i'd sang as a child, songs i'd made up, songs i was still making up. Imagine every problem with everything just dissapearing instantly. Every thing you've ever been even slightly worried about gone. That's were i was. I was IN THAT WORLD. It didn't matter if it was just in my head. It was real. It was final. It was mine.

This is my soul,
I see you here,
Though many may think this is queer,
A world away, or even more,
I look, I see - It's you, I'm sure.

This is my soul,
I hear you here,
Though soft you whisper in my ear,
I hear your every word so clear,
It helps me rise above the fear.

This is my soul,
I sense you here,
That's why I do not shed a tear,
Although your gone, you still feel near,
I can be with you forever here.

This is my soul...

Sometimes, it seems, the world looks bleak
-Devoid of love and kindness,
And people find it hard to speak
With fair words and politeness,

So I take solace in being alone,
In a nice secluded spot,
Where I can find my comfort zone,
And remember those forgot.

It seems they’re always on my mind
-They invade my every dream,
It’s in this place I feel I find
What COULD be, not what’s been.

A world in which I stand aside
Is not the one I choose,
But, still, I hypocritacly confide
In cigarettes and *****.

“Just relax!”, they seem to say
“And live as best you can!
Just make sure that you’re okay,
THEN help your fellow man.”

I see the wisdom in those words,
And yet I can’t help feeling
The words of ghosts my memory herds,
And packs from floor to ceiling.

The ghosts that visit say they are
Not from past or present day,
But sad omens of the future,
Who beg me; “Please;- Don’t go this way!”

Once upon a time in a happy little land
Was a man who saw bad things
And ever since then this happy little guy
Has been afraid of what tomorrow brings
So the happy little man took a solemn sworn oath
And solemnly swore to change things
But the happy little guy didn’t know what to do
About what tomorrow brings
So the happy little guy tried to try, try, try
But it ended up worse than before
He got annoyed at his friends
Who saw beginnings, not ends
And said “What are you doing this for?”
This made the happy little guy start to cry, cry, cry
Because he didn’t know how to explain
That yesterday felt like the end of his life
And tomorrow brought suffering and pain
So the happy little guy tried to live for today
Although sometimes it didn’t seem worth it
He kept a smile glued to his face most the time
Although inside he was quite far from perfect
Sometimes he fell in a pit of despair
And since his today never ended
He just thought of the who, what, the when and the where
Until all of his thoughts were upended
Upon all the papers that scattered his room
But  still nobody seemed to know why
It wasn’t the yesterday or the tomorrow
But today that caused him to cry
So the happy little guy, with a smile on his face
Carried on living life as it was
And when anyone asked him why he felt disgraced
He’d answer, quite simply; “Because
The moon and the sea do not mean much to me
As they will do what they do anyhow
But the products of human creativity
Will ruin the here and the now
And if I cannot change merely one little thing
That causes such suffering and pain
Then tell me – if I should just walk away
Am I not as much equally to blame?”
The happy little guy got this in reply;
“There’s nothing that CAN be done,
You must let things be as they must be
Even though it’s ******* horrible because it essentially means you’re worthless and are incapable of stopping anything nasty happening to anyone at any time because that’s part of life and you need to stop thinking about it and move on with your life. Your existence is basically pointless unless you keep smiling because no-one cares about horrible things unless they’re affecting them directly.  Can’t you just do something nice to “balance it out”? Because your essentially wasting your life right now and it’s unproductive to everyone around you.”
That’s what he heard at least,
Although he may have been mistaken,
And now he was angry because people had completely ruined his rhyme AND his view of humanity.
What a bunch of *******!

Write a poem, you say,
And give me a subject
About that which you think I should write,
But it don’t work that way,
I’m afraid I must reject
The challenge you set me tonight

For a poem, you see,
Simply cannot be forced,
I can't pluck one out of thin air!
It needs to just be,
And run its due course,
And the writer, of course, needs to care

It’s not that I can’t write,
It’s not that I won’t,
It’s just that these things simply are,
And it seems that tonight
The mood simply don’t
Inspire to take me that far

I can't just decide
When the moment will take me,
And jot down a stanza or two.
I’m not trying to hide,
But you can’t simply make me
Write poems to benefit you.

So that’s why this piece
May not quite be art,
And won’t be remembered in books.
I can’t choose to please
(Wouldn’t know where to start)
You with how my poetry looks.

Words are harmless, so they say,
That's where the problem starts;
Sticks and stones
May break our bones
But words will break our hearts.



Words are harmless, so they say,
And point you to their charts;
It's harmless fun,
No damage done.
But... Who will mend our hearts?



The x-rays show no damage
Where words have scathed across,
But it still feels hard to manage,
And leaves you at a loss.



Words are harmless, don't complain,
That's where the problem starts.
It's quite absurd-
A single word-
Enough to break our hearts!



But words are harmless, they maintain;
The subject of their parts,
No less or more,
So let them pour
From all our broken hearts

Let's not talk about the world today,
Switch off the news.
Ignore what other people say,
Just sit with me right here and stay,
To sing the blues.

Let's not talk about the world today,
It's tragic state.
Some countrys oh, so awful plight,
The people there who love to fight,
And love to hate

Let's not talk about the world today,
The way it be.
Don't listen to the news at ten,
Or the war reporters pen,
Just stay with me,
And let's not talk about the world...

I had a dream last night
Where all the flowers in the prison yard
Had turned full bloom
The reflections from them turned walls bright
'Till I awoke to the cold, hard
Reality of my room

The small magic book that tells
The voices what to say to me
When we're alone
Can't conjure up the words for smells
Nor the sad, sweet beauty
Of missing home