Grip tightens.
Loss of appetite,
For food, for fun, for mischief
All but for self loathing.

Something so simple ,
Made so awkward.
More than just trivial,
All so hard.

I could be so happy,
Elated,
Infectious in fact.

Instead questioning so much
Too much
Appointment? Yae of Nae?
Arranged or by chance?

If chance does arrive....
Take it?
Or be it gone like the wind;
Never seen but felt by all.

I know it
It preoccupies both our minds
I know it
But self doubt is unrelenting
Questioning, always questioning
All too noticeable.
All too late.

I know.

“Haha, very good”
That’s what my father says when he finds something clever and amusing.
A simple phrase depicting the way he feels.
I’ve noticed myself using this phrase
When I too find something clever and amusing
And I wonder what I could have created
Had I not been subjected to this line.
Would I have been more descriptive, charming even?
Perhaps ever-changing from day to day, keeping seemingly interested.
But then I begin to ponder,
If his father too had used his phrase,
And his father before him,
Keeping alive a generation through subtle words.
And I begin to think “Haha, very good.”

I will not conform to your ideal.
I will not follow the footsteps of those ahead of me or those behind me.
I will not copy the beliefs of my peers
Unless I agree of course.

For I have my own mind, my own style, my own grace,
My own pace.
I walk the way I wanna walk
And I talk the way I wanna talk.
And I feel the only way I know how to feel,
With passion, power and a delicate strength.
If you are so lucky to see...

I will not groove to the sound of your music,
If it’s not to my beat.
I will not laugh at your jokes
To be in your good seat.
I will not play in your colours,
If you’re not in my team.
Because I can jump and kick about,
Or stay silent in my dreams.

I am not trying to be a rebel, renegade or revolutionist
Being different is all the same.
I’m not going out of my way to defy, disregard or disagree.
I am an influencer, influencee, influenced.
I am a piece of all of you
And I am a picture of no one

I believe everyone makes mistakes.
I believe we can all be a disgrace .
I believe we can all fall into the same trap.
I believe once and a while we can all snap.

What I believe you may not agree.
What I say you may not relay.
But you might just remember this,
I believe being wrong is a right.

I look into my pocket and I find a card
On it my photo, my identity
Is this really me,
Or who I'm supposed to be?

I go to sleep in fear, not for me
For someone else.
No alcohol to numb the thoughts,
No book to lose myself,
No film to ponder.

I turn to writing these things
In my head, in my mind,
All around.
At first something to leave my body,
Grapple with my fears
Before being taken by exhaustion.

Failing that I feel the need to cry.
Now is the first time I truly
Miss my old friend,
Someone to talk to 'til i sleep,
Comforting and kind
To reassure my mind.

I realise that writing this down
Could result in its finding,
My thoughts and feelings falling into
Wrong or right hands.

Maybe its what I want deep inside.

Regardless I do not want to stop
For the tears well up inside.
Besides, this kind of creativity
Doesn't come too often.
Something like this should be taken advantage of,
It may well be useful.

But had this be found
Please not by my kindred,
Or those that I live by.
For their worry would be needless,
Like I pray mine to be...

As I come to the end,
My heart is happier.
Temporarily free of it's burden
But my stomach still undergoes
The brutal battering of the storm inside,
Tearing it apart,
Unknowing to the world outside.


But it will die down.
After a good nights sleep,
A new day and some company.
Least this way I can remember another feeling,
Another experience
I can say I have achieved.
Before I go to my sleepless grave.

Don't utter those three words,
Keep it to yourself.
Until it becomes unbearable,
'Til Eros is standing at your door,
Arrows dripping with insatiable delirium,
Bow in hand.

Keep it to yourself.

Until you see it everywhere.
Dotted across windows of shops,
Films you watch,
Books you read,
Places you know,
People you meet and greet.
'Til it’s walking with you everywhere, everyday
Turning daisies to roses, rope into ribbon,
Black into bright.

Keep it to yourself.

Until your mind is lost,
Your knees weak, your stomach sick.
Lost to everything but those three words.
Haunting you, possessing you, controlling you,
Watching your every move,
‘Til you’re lost to its every move,
Becoming morning's favourite child.

Keep it to yourself.

'Til every sound you hear,
Every scent you smell,
Every sight you see,
Every taste you savour,
Every touch you feel,
Every feeling you sense,
Every thought you muse,
And every thing you do....

Then maybe...

Just maybe...

But before you do
Just remember
Those words will remain the same forever
Live them for as long as you lie in one's power
Because,
Nina will one day answer.