one of my biggest fears is
that I'll work a 9 to 5 job
that I despise and drains me

I don't want to work a job that pays the bills
and is physically and emotionally draining
I want to do what I love and make good money

I know that that sounds naive
but I see the effects the menial job
that kills you slowly
taking everything out of you
with barely any energy at the end of the day

I like the waves.
The way their static fizz tickles
the bristles of my ears,
as if they were long brown thistles in beach dunes,
engirding pools of sand between
the wet crevices of my toes.

I’ll lie in the bayside sheets of gold,
where the clouds drift silent,
encompassed by its warm fold,
soaking my horse-haired brush
into sand-speckled jar,
painting my watercolour flowers;
butter daffodils and heavens daisies.

I’ll lie on sun-dried towels
beneath chequered brolly
and scribble my brain
into summer-kissed parchment,
with leaded letters and granite words.

I’ll write in the colour of my soul,
using what’s left of my heart,
as I’m flayed down to the white-skinned bones
that hold me upright:
left thin and pale.
But, for these tapestries,
I find it worth my loves
discounted sale.

Let me rewind your mind
Back to a time
When everything was fine.
When you weren't inclined to think
About the choices you had made
Or had voices to replay
Because you were still a child.

Now fast forward some years later
When you're quiet
That's when you're hating.
All those demons are berating
Every door until they've caved in
Questioning any memory created
Any plans made they were too hasty
That major imprints to get ingrained
And every glimmer here was wasted
Because every single day since
Could've been a better one

I'm what I'd call quietly violent
When I close my eyes
I'm morbidly inspired
Not suicidal,
More...tragically insightful
I'd be lying if I said the thoughts not crossed my mind though...

Provocative cranium conversations
Don't make sense, get irritating
Off hand comments on every wavelength,
That find endless ways of blaming
Yourself for all the sane things
But unlike the shrew
You cannot tame it
And emotions get abrasive
Leaving you worn out and deflated,
By your very own persuasions.

I'm what I'd call quietly violent
When I keep my eyes closed
I'm morbidly inspired
Not suicidal,
More...tragically insightful
I'd be lying if I said the thoughts not crossed my mind though...

When chained to past imaginations
It puts a strain on your relations
Which coping with gets less instinctive
Cursed with fleeting flickered wishes
Giving pictures to each vision
And over time you can't restrain it
Until each detail's contemplated
For a moment
Then sedated.
But the voices still keep raining
Cryptic mental space invaders.
Welcome to adult life the playlist
"Psychologically Draining".

This is what it feels like it
To lose yourself
Especially in poor timing
Now I never intended to lose myself
But things happened
Events occurred
Here I am now
What do you know
I'm stuck fighting a war within me
Reminding myself that I need to eat and sleep
Finding a million and one reasons to get out of bed
Trying to give a reason to have a genuine smile
It's tiring
It's draining
Worst of all...is that I don't even care
Currently I am watching from the sidelines
While my team is getting crushed
But coach won't let me play
So here I am now
Wondering what's my next plan
That's just it...
I don't have one
Usually do...but this time I don't