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Flynn Sep 2020
En point across eggshells
I tiptoe terrified around the point
Tireless trying to despatch any drama
I slip as I dance, Audible cracks

It’s been like this for a while now
Heart palpations, perpetually on edge
Panic attacks more frequent
Wait... they’re entirely new

Careful attempts to communicate
How I feel, frightened for firing the kiln
What will it be this time?
Interruption of calm converse circadian

Gaslighting? Guilt-Tripping?
Derailing? Tone-policing?
“I don’t deserve to be spoken to that way”
You say, as I crumble

Endless excuses and appalling accusations
You revolting repertoire maims me
Standing shattered, ******* fractured
fragmented as the eggshell environment I navigate

suspicious of my soul, I ponder the point
I take medication now, dose has doubled
The months you spent convincing me
a counsellor captioned me manipulative

Lies. Ladles of lies.
Thank god I know now
I had a plan in place
A time and space...

Delicately detailing
Now with unsullied sharpness
From alpha to omega
My swan song
meanwhile Sep 2019
i've been awake since 6am
i'm running on two and a half hours of sleep
i've been on the road since 7am
and i'm writing this at 1pm
i'm thinking about greggs sausage rolls
thinking about where i'm going in life
thinking about when this road will end
thinking about slowthai's yugioh cards
thinking about how much i love frank ocean
thinking about how i interpolate milo lyrics to fit my life
though i probably couldn't tell you what his words mean
thinking about how i drift from one person to the next
desperately searching for a new friend to cling to
thinking about why i didn't shave my face
for two weeks i was scared that with a blade in reach
i'd be tempted to slice my throat
if i drowned, would my body float?
thinking about how i should cut my hair
thinking about how i can act cuter
thinking about that coil girlfriend
but maybe i'll go for a boy instead
i burned my mouth on a greggs sausage roll again
so it looks like it's all going to plan
sometimes i view greggs as a temple
and the sausage roll is my zen master
i find solace in cheap british bakeries
just like how i find peace in a black man's philosophies
today i'll get my groceries from the nostrum grocers
and write poems at the apex of my sleepiness
this road is only going one way
and i can't go back to pick up the pieces
so i collect what i can to stitch together a new tapestry
made out of the few remaining pieces of the old me
maybe one day driver will say i have perfect hair
thinking about how excited i am to read tallen's messages on discord
it's nice hearing about his l5r discourse
thinking about how i promised to deliver instrumentals for quetzal
but i never did get started on them
thinking about my friend gabe's new album
and how i wish i had richard dawson's falsetto
and how i wish someone would hug me
but if i admitted that, that'd feel pretty needy of me
i don't know when this road will end
maybe i'm stuck on here forever
immortalised in the asphalt like a dead bird
approach me like you would your dad hanging in trafalgar square
i used to smile in every selfie
now it's a chore to smirk at all
but it ain't all bad
i might make curry on saturday
or maybe i'll make chicken soup
and it'll be better than hers
because i'll make sure to remove the bones
Me: *Has a test tmorrow that I still have to study and homework for 6 subjects that I still have to do.

Also me: *Decides to watch an entire DEH bootleg at 22:45

And then we're wondering why my grades are so bad
A "poem" every day.
Beana Feb 2019
You know your life is crazy
When getting eight hours of sleep is like
a daisy in a field of dandelions

You know your life is crazy
When you get eight hours of sleep and think
you must be forgetting something

You know your life is crazy
When you think getting eight hours of sleep
on a weekday is too much

You know your life is crazy
When you think getting the recommended amount of sleep
on a weekday means something is wrong
because it's just not normal

You think your life is crazy
When you walk around half dead from tiredness
But is it really crazy when everyone else around you is the same?
Jackie Mead Jan 2018
The Frog and The Bee and the Mouse with the House lived together in peace and harmony on the River Louse.

One day the Mouse with the house did declare it was time that he moved out of there.

The Frog and The Bee did not agree and set about convincing the Mouse with the House that he needed to stay on the River Louse.

They sent out invitations to all around to attend tea at half past three.

The tea party was in honour of the Mouse with the house to be held on the banks of the River Louse and hosted by his dear friends The Frog and The Bee.

One by one each creature replied and the guest list rose quickly to Twenty Five.

The Frog and The Bee decided the tea would be civil indeed and The Frog made some scones and The Bee made some honey.

At half past one The Frog and The Bee set up some tables to lay out the tea.

At half past two the tables were laid with the scones from The Frog and The honey The Bee had made.

The scene did look grand, pots of tea and saucers of milk all laid on a tablecloth made of silk.

At half past three the guests started to arrive.
The first of the guests to arrive were The Elf with one ear and The Fly with one eye. The Mouse was delighted to see his friends, the ones who helped get Horse around the river bend.

Next came the Horse and his Master of course to thank the Mouse with the House on the River Louse for his friendship and help on the day that the Horse could not get around the river bend and the Mouse with the House, The Elf with one ear, The Fly with one eye, The Frog and The Bee all pulled together and worked merrily to assist the Horse round the river course.

One by one others did attend, there was a duck who lost his cluck but the Mouse with the House helped him every day until he could at last say "cluck cluck"

Next came a ****** who had forgotten how to weave but the Mouse with the House lay out the sticks until the Beavers memory began to tick and the ****** remembered how to weave.

Then came a beautiful Butterfly with bright red wings.  She told the Frog and The Bee that one day the Mouse had found her crying and sighing her wings had faded and she did not look grand a thing of beauty.  The Mouse ran back to his House and in his shed found a can that had Paint in Red on the side.  He took a brush and painted her wings and now the Butterfly all shiny and bright flapped her wings with all her might.

Last but not least the Mayor arrived with his glorious wife by his side.

Mayor and Mayoress Swan did agree that the Mouse with the House should not leave his friends of  The River Louse and they would indeed miss him dearly if he relocated his house.

The Mouse smiled embarrassingly and said "I am sorry he did declare, there's been a mix up, when I said" I must get out of there" it was only to the shops I intended to go but The Frog and The Bee moved too fast or I moved to slow"

The Frog and The Bee and all the guests were all delighted with the news and brought in some music supplied by "Five in a Pen" which of course were all mother Hens and they danced all night until the Moon went in and the Sun came out.

Then the Frog and The Bee said to their friend the Mouse "let's do this again next year, and Mouse can bake cake for the tea, our friends can attend and we'll dance all night to Five in a Pen and we'll eat scones and honey and cake too and we'll do this in honour of all our friends and those who live and work on the River bend"

I wrote this at 2am this morning when I couldn't sleep.
If you've read my other poems The Mouse with a House on the River Louise and The Frog and The Bee, these characters will be familiar to you and the poem will make sense.
I hope you enjoy.
I stepped through the door
Knowing you were no more
I was no more, I was less

No more in this veil of reality
Knowing there were thousands more
Of different hues, different airs, different seasons

This door leads to OZ
This door leads to freedom
And this little doorway goes all the way home

This doorway is occupied
A stranger sleeps fitfully
***** hands clutch its vestments

This door is open and singing can be heard
This door is closed, knock it might open
Open Sesame, Open says I

Duck through this doorway
A wardrobe door, is Narnia waiting?
Doors, doors everywhere and not a lock to pick
04:30 GMT
I spent far too long striving to be ordinary.
Previously, only when nothing mattered
did I feel truly free. What does it mean
to say this? I try to remember not to care
too much but
I must be sure
to love more than enough. *Atardecer, amanecer.
Siempre estamos despierto por la madrugada.
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