It was the best day
When we met
The worst when
You walked away
But what hurts the most
Is I was far too morose
For you to want to stay
"All my life's buried here, heap earth upon it"
It was the best day
When we met
The worst when
You walked away
But what hurts the most
Is I was far too morose
For you to want to stay
I cry a lot more now
Even at the silliest thing
My therapist says it’s better
Than trying to keep it all in
I try to write but the words fail.
Sit, think, smoke, exhale.
As I reach for the coffee cup,
I wonder if my time is up.
Have I forgotten you,
Is that what this is?
The reason I can no longer write this shit?
Or could it be this depression is finally lifting?
Maybe the all encompassing darkness is shifting?
Perhaps after all this time my heart is mended.
And my love affair with words has ended.
(Originally Posted 11.08.2019)
She’s back again,
the little control freak,
whispering from my shoulder.She never really goes away,
despite my efforts to brush her aside
or however much I grow older.I’ve never once turned to look
at her whilst I try hard to
drown out her speech.But I never forget
she’s there, berating me,
and bleeding me like a leech.(Originally Posted 04.08.2019)
Sometimes it's easy to think about you.
Our memories overwhelm me,
I feel the touch of your hand in mine,
and my eyes sparkle with joyous delight.
Sometimes I can't think about you at all.
My brain shuts off the pathway to the pain,
My lungs stop taking in air,
and my heart, momentarily, stops beating.
Sometimes it's easy to talk about you.
Words fall from my mouth,
stories flow like vintage wine,
and my smile is as wide as the horizon.
Sometimes I can't talk about you at all.
Sentences fail to form in my head,
my voice dries up like a parched riverbed,
and my mouth is clamped like a vice.
(Originally Posted 22.03.2019)
My heart is empty now;
it can never be filled.My life is over now;
my spirit you have killed.(Originally Posted 16.07.2019)
I suppose I should be happy the sun is shining again,
Feel a spring in my step at the lighter evenings,
Be comforted by the warmth on the back of my neck.
But I couldn’t give a shit.
It means nothing.
None of it melts the ice in my heart.
(Originally Posted 21.03.2019)
I’d give you my heart,
But it’s not worth me tryingI’d give you my body,
But it’s not worth your touchI’d give you my soul,
But it’s not worth my cryingI’d give you my life,
But it’s not worth very much(Originally Posted 19.04.2019)
Today has
been like
scratching
a brick wall
I didn’t
see this
one coming
at all
Everything
I’ve done
has made me
feel worse
I cannot
shrug this
nightmarish
curse
It feels
ridiculously
melodramatic
to say
But I
really don’t
think there’s
another way
All that
appeals
to me now
is that rope
As finally
it seems I’ve
abandoned
all hope
(Originally Posted 21.08.2019)
The monster who lives
Under my bed
Whispers again
Why aren’t you dead
Berating me
For writing instead
When all the time
That rope’s still in the shed
I really
try my
best to
cope and
not just
sit around
and mope
but as
time moves
on I
know there’s
no hope
I can
forget the
past and
avoid the
rope that
silently
whispers my
name(Originally Posted 02.07.2019)
I wonder what you’ll all say,
When I finally go away.
I wonder what you’ll all think,
When off into the shadows I slink.
I wonder if you’ll all stop and stare,
When you finally realise I’m no longer there.
(Originally Posted 25.06.2019)
I never thought
I had a heart
Until it broke
In two
I wake up with Harry the cat walking over my face. Fuck, is my first thought. It’s Saturday.
Saturdays have become the most difficult day since you’ve gone. Saturdays mean at least forty hours must pass before I can go to work and have something to distract my mind from this impenetrable sadness. I count the days in my head. Thirteen weeks. You died thirteen weeks ago today.
I push Harry off the bed and turn onto my side. I pull the duvet around my neck and scrunch up my eyes, trying to block out the daylight seeping in from the window. If I can just go back to sleep, even for a little while, at least I won’t have to face being alone with my thoughts. I try hard to think of nice things and to drift off back to sleep.
Of course, it is to no avail. Apart from the fact that my toes are poking out from the bottom of the bed and are in danger of being shred to ribbons by a predatory Harry: I need a piss.
With a heavy sigh I sit up. Carefully, keeping the duvet around my neck to ward off the impending chill, I hunt around the bed for the remote control and turn on the TV. I’m amazed at how reliant I have become on this screen. It’s on more often than off now – the inane chatter of random talk shows preferable to the otherwise morbid silence.
When Harry’s cute (but really fucking annoying) meowing finally becomes too much to bear, I haul myself out of bed. Pulling on yesterdays t-shirt and joggers from the floor I walk through to the kitchen. Harry weaves in and out of my legs causing a near catastrophe more than once. I look in his dish – little bastard still has half a meal left from last night. There was no need for him to wake me up at all.
He’s a poor wee thing though. He’s been finding it hard too, since you died. He doesn’t like being alone much either. I top up his food and water bowl and he tucks in appreciatively. I give him a pat and head to the bathroom.
As I move my hands in and out of the tap water I examine my face in the mirror. Just look at the fucking state of me. At thirty eight I’m not exactly in the prime of my life, but still, really?! This is what I look like now? Jesus.
My hair is greying, my face is blotchy and bloated and my eyes are like piss holes in the snow. Thankfully my clothes hide the worst of the scarred, stretch marked, cellulite ridden body I know fine well I live in. To have to look at that this morning would really push me over the edge.
I go back to the bedroom and jump back into bed. As I get comfortable Harry comes to join me, settling on top of the duvet for cuddles. At least I have him I think. It’s better than no one, and I’ll take all the friends I can get right now. I need them since you died.
I reach for my other friend – a cigarette – and I am momentarily soothed as the nicotine rushes through my blood stream.
I consider getting up, getting dressed and going in to town to buy some shit I neither want or can afford. It’s how I’ve tried to fill the gap, since you died.
I remember it hasn’t worked the last two Saturday’s, so there’s no point trying again today. I set the TV to put itself to sleep in half an hour and settle back down again. I pull the duvet around my neck and close my eyes – Harry still purring away beside me.
The days news is burbling away in the background. Some cold and unfeeling male voice is revealing that, apparently, five people in China have died from a mystery illness. Definitely best not to go out today then. I drift off into a restless sleep.
I wake up with Harry the cat walking over my face. Fuck, is my first thought. It’s still Saturday…
(Originally Posted 03.03.2019)
Even though
It’s still a shit show
It must go on,
I suppose
(Originally Posted 22.03.2019)
‘Choppy waters ahead, Captain, but I see dry land on the horizon’.
‘Drop anchor here then, Sailor, for I’d prefer to die in the storm’.
(Originally Posted 27.03.2019)
You have no idea
As you sit here
With your good humour and wit.
Now let me be clear
Kindly fuck off my dear
‘Cause honestly, you don’t know shit.
(Originally Posted 18.06.2019)
I’m trapped inside this silent war
Furiously waving a white flag above my head
But no one seems to care
One day soon
I’ll stop trying
(Originally Posted 14.04.2019)
At this point I just want to feel
It matters not what or who
But this world has lost its appeal
So what is a girl to do?
It’s heartfelt
praise, but
I know
your ways.How uncomfortable
you are
to see,
just how
miserable I
can be.I’m sorry
I no
longer make
you smile.For that
you’ll need
to wait
a while.Until then,
just keep
telling me
I’ll make
it through.And I’ll
keep on
whispering
fuck you.(Originally Posted 10.05.2019)
Hair crunchy like straw
Brain burst with chaos
Eyes darkened shadows
Arteries slick with grease
Lips rough as sandpaper
Cheeks stained with tears
Skin cracked and weeping
Forearms heavily scarred
Liver soaked with alcohol
Heart cold as granite
I hate looking in the mirror
For I do not like what I see
I shall stop looking in the mirror
For I do not like me
(Originally Posted 05.04.2019)