The old habits set in
like the moss on stones,
clinging to my brain.
                                    Waiting to inhale my
                                     remaining soul that I
                                     grew last summer.

lm tired of looking in the mirror and failing to recognise myself
lm tired of having a voice but l cant speak
lm tired of speaking only for me to listen
lm tired of dreaming , waking up to see a different reality
lm tired of looking exactly like the person next to me

At times l ask myself if friendship was the only thing l had to offer
how big will my circle
how many people will still be will to roll with me

Not everyone who is rolling with you is rolling for you
some are rolling against you
if you fall today how many people in your circle will still be willing to as much as you do for them

Now l ask again do l really have to be like
you so that you be for me
l thought being different was the beauty of life
My colour together with yours combined to make a beautiful rainbow
but no we all have to sing the sane song
lm tired of dancing to the same rhythm
l need a different melody

So society lm sorry
But lm setting myself free

Sometimes I get tired
And I don’t feel like driving anymore,
So I let my emotions take the wheel.

They don’t drive as well as me.

They hit every pothole in the road
And we always end up crashing,
Far from where I set out to be.

Then it’s the long walk back,
To a place I recognise,
Past broken fences
And angry faces.

Dimetapp all glistening cherry,
Flonase with its vibrant green cap,
Day old Campbell’s chicken noodle soup,
Scattered unripe oranges over the counter,
How many days can a person lay sick?
Cold mug of coffee with almond milk inclusions,
Watered down yellow stained tissues,
Eucalyptus tinted steam clouds from the humidifier,
Muted television talking heads spouting delusions,
The ragged edges of a quilt around the shoulders,
Enigmatic envelopes with bills within,
Perhaps someday they’ll see the light,
Forks in occultic formation,
Spoons in opposition of the forks,
Bamboo shoots staring from above,
Blush Yankee Candles cower,
I’ve been sitting here for over an hour,
Watching these objects has made me grow sour,
After all, there is not much to do in a fever dream,
So I will just stare, sniffle, and drink my cold coffee with cream.

I create clutter
In my head and around me
When I'm stressed
Because I have no energy
To clean it up

As the clutter increases,
My frustration increases with it
Until I can no longer function
Till I clean it up

How long before I finally
learn the lesson
To take care of myself?

Have you ever wished time would stop?
Like everything coming to a
Standstill

Just so you can have a moment
To catch your breath