Anger

An emotion most of us have deep within

Something people like to plant in us for fun

Most don't realize when they create a monster of anger it will be their demise

They laugh and taunt as my fist goes through the wall

But I hear no more remarks when my fist goes through them all

I was sweet and kind and loving you see

You killed what I used to be

I am a monster, a blackhole of anger and spite

Laugh all you want, I’ll give you a fright

He is a talking flower with lips
made of curving petals.

Begging to hold his hand - which is a lovely saturation of pollen - is my unknown sunset quietly falling over him.

I never knew I wanted so deeply to feel him, now there seems to exist a safety within my thoughts I never knew possible.

In a way that is purely fantasy,
he spins the world so fast I’ve fallen off it.

Even when he walks he dances,
allowing me to slowly rotate in the vortex of his spirit.

How could I ever show him...

How could I ever let him see,
how he is the sinking throat
of dawn blessing me with vision,
and the medicine of my now fading paranoia.

cheap liquor, good drugs.
burns through her cash.

blue eyes turn grey,
deep seas now ash.

stranded on shore;
nowhere to swim.

beautifully drained:
soft, rotting skin.

laying on the sand,
of an hourglass.

watching, waiting,
for day to pass.

her insides crumble.
her unbearable pain.

her lack of reason,
to ever change.

and if she had the chance,
she'd do it all again.

I don't know how to explain
that your confetti looks like ash
and that I would rather be looking
at nineteen through glassy eyes
locked in a permanent stasis
than eating cardboard flavoured cake

my lips are coated in dust from centuries of silence
cobwebs lace between my eyelashes from decades of darkness
the spiders who made them have moved on or died long ago
the dead ones curled up
rigor mortis in my ears
my flesh decays
i no longer remember when the crows last came to feast
before the rotting began
i do, however, remember that i was once alive
and had been when i was buried here

i was taken from my home, wrenched from my bed in the middle of the night
by six hulking figures that wore my face
icy cold hands with vice like grips around my wrists, throat, and ankles dragged me through the dark and empty streets, silent but for my screams
they did not answer when i asked them what they wanted
they did not listen when i pleaded for my life

the sun was beginning to rise as we arrived at my tomb
they released me and i stood to face them
my back to the black entrance
i knew in my heart that i was meant never to feel the warmth of another day
they would not let me, and i was not strong enough to take them all on
knowing this, tears fell from my captors’ eyes and mine
i turned and walked inside, my final act of free will
the figures watched

time passed
hours turned to days, which began to fade, like my memory of colors
i have since lost track of time, having no light or method with which to keep it
i can only assume it has been a while, whatever that means

i have stopped wondering why i am here
the wondering without answers would have driven me mad

would have driven me mad

would have driven me mad

would have driven me mad

Let us go a little mad!
If we try real hard I know we can!
Let’s not worry about what people think,
We’ll go bananas in a blink!

No more scrolling for what we need,
Or cave into another drink.
All that liquid dulls the senses.
When you’re insane the world is endless!

Let’s say what we really think,
Not be afraid of things hard to admit.
Degrade yourself for what, for whom?
Your ****** beautiful, you know it too!

Yes it’s fear that holds you back,
Your past, your story, you’re better than that.
Who you want to be,  that is your truth
And I’m crazy enough to believe in you!

Am I mad we so easily replace
One with another during a Netflix break?
If chilling is devaluing the human spirit,
How empty are we to need **** to fill it?

I’m not getting really riled,
So let’s go bon voyage awhile,
And not judge all the locals there,
You know, they too feel love and fear?

Now we’re lost in a nice direction,
We’ll stop using ‘hate’ in every sentence
I hate paedophiles and domestic violence
I don’t hate using an iPhone 7

Now we’re madly - I feel a-brewing,
Opinions based on fact reviewing
When emotions feel a little ticking,
Don’t buy that (blipping blip) they’re spewing.

Congrats! We’re seeping deep into nuts.
We COULD argue about funding cuts,
Or join the game of hide and seek with homeless/addicts/single mums.
OH! Using our imagination’s fun!

But in our little game of mad, we whisper
SHHH! 14 eyes will see the picture
No name, no phone, just disappear
I must be bonkers, a secret system!?

A game for friends and friends of friends
What a wonderful world when off your meds
When everyone is kept in a tidy pile
We can jump and stomp, kick leaves for miles!

Now I’m getting upset it’s blowing
The wind picked up and the rains are flowing
The little pile was so connected
They fight, the leaves for the nicest spot -  but in the end they fall, they wither and then they rot.

Some are pretty, some provide shade
But this pile seems to body shame.
If each think spring is unique to them,
the part they play will fall away.

I know that I’m most certainly deranged.
Some of these leaves, want weeds to spray.
All this trunk and extended roots,
They think this won’t affect them too?

I’ve had enough fun for today
Playing mad is a scary game
I need a joint, beer, some time to pray
Some pills, some sleep and don’t ask again.