Pretence.

4/3/09
Both my knee’s are on the ground
Getting grazed but I don’t care
And I won’t let my scream fill the air
I have only once and I plan to keep
it that way.
‘Cause I don’t let my anguish escape
through my mouth,
My fists hold my pain and I hit
and I hit again
and the bag glares right back at
me as I bruise my hands.
The bag is my worst enemy
and I just can’t stop my fists
The bag is the world
and my fists are crying now
But I won’t let my eyes shed a tear
Out of breath I can’t believe there’s still more
inside after all that hitting
I’m not relieved.
I can still feel the pain
eating at my bones and giving my throat lumps
I just have to swallow a pill to feel
and then all I feel is hell at my heels,
is an explosion in my stomach
creeping up my insides
up my throat, in my saliva, on my tongue,
always on my mind and in my eyes I hide,
‘Cause I just swallow and I just smile,
and I just hit the bag and I just cry in the shower
so I can pretend it’s just the water on my face.

Diseased

3/4/09
Disease – what a simple word
for such a complex thing.
The line blurs between disease
and living. This disease in my head
is driving me quite literally crazy,
Sometimes I think cancer or some
physical disease would be easier to
deal with. Death would greet me,
shake my hand with an evil grin.
Instead, I get all his cousins
spitting in my face as Death lurks
in my shadow, just teasing,
teasing me like a dog with a bone,
the chain of life chokes me as I lurch towards
Death and he just laughs like I’m the biggest joke
he’s ever seen and I don’t blame him.
I am a joke but even pathetic at that,
I am just plain pathetic,
This disease is curled up inside my skull,
Just sleeping but beating blood into my veins,
Just relaxing in my head and pouring out of my mouth,
and filtering all my thoughts
and interpreting the world through sick eyes.
I just can’t move on.

Standing Still

3/4/09
I hop on trains to places
I don’t know just to
feel the movement.
Because I cannot move myself forward.
I am so stuck
in between the tracks.
And trains just rush right past me
without a second glance.
I am just standing stock still
in the pouring rain – I won’t cry
not today. The chemicals
made me better for a minute
but then I got too used to them.
Drivers are beeping at me to move
but I’m just paralysed by the things I’ve seen,
And by the nightmares I dream.
And my eyes are trying to turn the image right way up
But my mind just doesn’t want to see – I fall
to my knees and hide my tears within the rain.
Because my eyes are showing me all the sickness
and sad memories I tried to pretend didn’t exist.
And now I’m just screaming with the thunder
but my mouth doesn’t make a sound
My heartbeat beats faster and loudly in my ears
I cannot hear the storm anymore.
I just close my eyes and let them burn with salty tears
as I force myself to forget for another day
and as I force myself to stop crying and put on
a brave face, just for everyone but me.
‘Cause it kills me inside but it brings to your
face a smile so I grit my teeth and smile.
So I cover my cuts and smile.
So I bury my memories and smile.
So I swallow the pills and smile.
So I silence the screaming
until I’m alone again.

Cryptic tongue

31/3/09
I am too cryptic.
People always stare at me
like I’m speaking in tongue.
People always glare at me
like I’m making no sense.
A foreigner in my own home.
I am speaking your language
You’re just not listening
I am speaking your language
I just don’t speak simple.
My tongue is riddled with lies
and puzzle, mysteries.
My words are always bent
I cannot just state facts.
I must always hide the truth
in complex sentences and metaphors.
I am speaking your language,
It just takes a little concentration
to decipher the meanings of my messages.
I just can’t speak straight.

Alone

30-3-09
Rotting bones - I’m disintegrating.
The shovel shop down the road
has decided to close down.
I am all alone. In this I am alone.
There’s no text on my headstone.
The grass over my grave never grows.
I am all alone. In this I am alone.
Everything I never did and never owned
flashes through my mind. In each
picture, I am alone. In this I am alone.
You can put your flowers all over me,
But flowers always die so quickly near me.
You can send your best wishes but
six feet under costs a bit extra and who
wants mail when you’re dead anyway?
With flies in my eyes and worms in my mouth
Even the insects die all around me as I tried
to scream. Dirt tastes just like it looks
-so ugly, the only thing covering me.
Get away. Don’t visit me here anymore.
I am speaking through worms to tell you
…to tell who?
No-one ever knows and nothing ever grows.
I will never know and I will never grow again.
I am alone. In this I am alone.

Moth To A Flame

Cliché. Moth to a flame.
That’s my building block.
A moth flies towards the light
it looks so innocent, so nice,
but little electric waves see me
reeling back but one look at that
lovely orange flame, I must get
closer, I must see the center,
I just crave the company
of my arch enemy.
Electric waves through my insides
again – feel so shocking
,feel so familiar, feel so homely.
A moth to a flame, the only difference
is I’m crawling back on my bleeding
hands and knees and I know this is going to hurt
I just really need the company.

Literal metaphor

24/3/09
Just a step or three backwards.
A dangerous step backwards.
A step backwards is only dangerous
when you’re standing on an edge.
I’m always standing right on the edge.
So three steps means I’m falling
into the depths of the past
And I’m so used to this feeling
I can’t believe it still hurts so much.

I curse the faces around me
for not knowing what I’m thinking
.I curse my surroundings
as I try to escape them.
Feet, train, there are always windows though.
I cannot escape the world.
But I can escape the known for a while.
And live in the freshness of not knowing where I am.
Funny how I feel most alive
when I’m away from the common world.
When I’m alone in an unfamiliar place.
Excitement ignites – that breath of fresh air
in a new place turns into a sigh…
as I realize this place is no more my home
than the place I come from.

Literal or a metaphor?
They alwayswant to know.
Well this started literally
but it seems my literal actions are just
the physical actions of my mental games.