so burnt out

I seek to make it stop but then I stop, what's the use

I use and abuse, putting stones in my shoes but not enough to kill me

I live in purgatory, I have friends here, I keep them close yet distant

At arm's length, I'm losing strength, my legs are weak, I've been in this hole for weeks though time is at a stand still

It's been years, im trapped with all my fears and I decide to befriend them

Stockholm syndrome sets in and it feels good and bad simultaneously

Convict me of my heinous crimes, it's about time I did time, I wonder if maybe I'll find freedom in captivity

I'm not a masochist but I try to enjoy the pain, I'm a loser so I try to gain, a little perspective goes a long way

It's a long way down so I try to enjoy the pain, hitting rock bottom over and over again, covered in bruises and cuts and stains but I'm a virgin clean not dirty

Not worthy of love, or happiness or hugs or anything as pure as I claim to be

I lie amongst the trees, eyes glazed, they bleed, mouth dry blood freezed but my heart still beats

I pray for it to stop but I don't mean it not a lot because I care for the people who tell me they care for me

The voice in my head screams of lies pity and hate but the faint voice in my heart screams of guilt

I wilt like a flower in the forest, some small part of me blooming at the same time, still searching for Nirvana in an empty trip

Third eye closed, I stop trying and surrender

you're obsolete, inconsequential 

you think that you're something special 

admit defeat, you've got potential 

but your ego prevails and poisons your mind 

you think you're god's gift, you're really just fine 

confuse who you are in real life with online 

ego inflated by comments and likes

you think that the earth rotates on your axis 

your ego is toxic, you're anaphylaxis

you think that you make all the girls and boys swoon, that they'll be fed to you on a silver spoon

5 minutes of mediocrity is all you shall have 

you're average, meagre, dreary and drab 

dripping in disappointing dull dissonance 

your desired effect does not come to fruition 

you're distant from people that you claim to love 

distracted by damels that you wanna fuck 

head in the clouds cos you're so wrapped up

in being better than who you think you're above

A holier than thou attitude and an ungodly stench

your attitude stinks, your perception is bent 

you think you're god's gift but he's long forgotten 

the distant day that you were begotten 

he made you in his image, but as you became grown

you gradually became obsessed with your own

carving for yourself, an illegitimate throne

from which you judge and jibe and throw stones 

within a glass house you reside atop a mountain 

at the bottom of the food chain, washed up by

a fountain

of knowledge you are so convinced you possess 

Melting

My brain a rollercoaster,

Helter skeltering

I look at the clock and it's melting too

I wonder if and when this will ever stop

But what's a when and when's a what

What's a me and who are you

And why does any of it matter, any who

Why am I so inclined to care

when fair is foul and foul is fair

This thing we call existence

Is such a strange affair

If schrodingers cat

Can't be proved fact

And all the world's on a turtles back

How do we know what's this and what's that?

What's an if, if time doesn't exist

and life's just a blister on the skin of God's lip

What is a god and why's he a he

and what on Earth is an eternity

what is an earth

And what's it all worth

If all that this leads to

The blood flows out of her as the life does

She’s right cos she knows that it’s wrong but she knows no bounds

She hides her frowns with a painted on smile

Deep red like the drip from her wrists

A drip from her walk when she walks and she talks, so deceiving

Her insides are heaving her lungs are screaming but her laugh is like warm butter sliding down hot toast

A ghost of a girl, a whirlwind, a hurricane, she’ll sweep you off your feet but not in the way you want to sweep her off hers

She’s silent sometimes, violent sometimes and always very aware

She doesn’t seem to care but she but she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders

She smoulders and her painted on smile gives you shivers in parts in of your body you didn’t even know existed

She’s fading now, her pulse quickly slowing down and soon it will be much much too late

Her eyes like frozen over lakes glazing like the icing on a cake she couldn’t have and eat too

Blood red jam drips from her wrists and even loves true kiss couldn’t save her now

She doesn’t make a sound, not a whimper or a hiss leave her colour drained lips, still covered in lipstick to conceal the blue tinge

All the worlds a stage no more, her final act behind closed doors, her last breath shallow, the dance is up

I'm quiet as a mouse, holed up inside my house, enjoying the excuse not to go out, not that I need one. I am an extroverted recluse. an introverted socialite. 

Day to day I speak- not considering my words before it's too late, only pausing for thought at a later date - with unusual cadence and candor, naturally slanderous although I am kind and empathic in my own way, psychopathic brain waves process themselves through my tongue without my permission. 

Precise precision when I insult, deep incisions made with the slight of my hand or a slip of my tongue.

I aim to be a better person, practise mindfulness and kindfulness and meditation, but I am yet to be enlightened. Senses not yet heightened but blunted to certain things. 

I aim to be meek but I've quite the mean streak, it runs through me deep like a stream. 

I aim to sharpen my wit and dampen my tongue, I climb the rungs of consciousness only to fall back down to earth, harder than ever before, and of course, I moan. 

I externalise my internal pain, I've not yet learned to refrain from speaking other than today.

Health intertwined with disease

Ease often distanced and kept at arms length

Can’t see the forest for the trees

A prisoner inside of this vessel

Pain demands to be felt

This illness is not something visible

You see no scars or welts

But still the pain is persisting

And still the meds do not work

It pays to stay home and do nothing

When you are not deemed fit for work

The pain is a friend and a stranger

A stalker a dosser a leech

My angel sits high on my shoulder

Keeping me just from deaths reach

Death is my cousin, but distant

She visits me now and again

She barters with my immune system

Picking my cells from their stems

Because I could not stop for death

Pain drags it’s feet on and on

It falters a moment the briefest atonement before it resumes it’s sick song

I once knew a life much much different

I once was not stricken with grief

I weep for myself and my former good health

CRAMPS ARE PAYMENT ENOUGH.

FREE PERIODS PROTEST, LONDON, 20/12/2017.

A BLOODY CHRISTMAS PROTEST TO END PERIOD POVERTY.

FREE PERIODS PROTEST, LONDON, 20/12/2017.

A BLOODY CHRISTMAS PROTEST TO END PERIOD POVERTY.

FREE PERIODS PROTEST, LONDON, 20/12/2017.

A BLOODY CHRISTMAS PROTEST TO END PERIOD POVERTY.

FREE PERIODS PROTEST, LONDON, 20/12/2017.

A BLOODY CHRISTMAS PROTEST TO END PERIOD POVERTY.