Premature

I know your heart’s

In the right place

And that deep down

You mean well

But your good intentions

Mean nothing

While I’m trapped

In this hell


Two Cents Worth

It will get better with time

They lied

Before my tears

Had even dried

(Originally Posted 18.02.2020)

What’s Next?

Four different medications

Plus some of my own to boot

Yet the madness persists

As I eye up my wrists

Making the point of treatment moot


Assistance / Resistance

So
it’s
been
a year

Of
your
latest
treatment

Yet
I still
don’t
feel

Any
fucking
different

(Originally Posted 30.10.2020)

Spilt Milk

There’s no use in trying

To understand

As it makes no difference

We may as well take complying

By the hand

And hope for deliverence


The Fall

I am
unsure
how it
happened

And I
certainly
don’t
know why

So there’s
nothing left,
for me to
do now

But
just sit
around
and cry

(Originally Posted 15.10.2019)

I Wasn’t Built For This

I guess I am

A misanthrope

Born as I was

Devoid of hope

Destined across

The world to mope

Forever trying

To avoid the rope


Misanthropic Me

People
never
cease to
disgust
and
disappoint
me in
equal measure

Perhaps
that’s
why my
life is
full of
discomfort
and
displeasure

(Originally Posted 09.10.2019)

‘Tonight Has Taught Me Something’

Having spent another day

Putting my body through the mill

It couldn’t be more clear to me

That sleeping is a skill


Sleep Is Futile

What’s the
point in
going to bed

With all
this shit
inside my head

It’s not
like I’ll be
allowed to rest

With this
sickness deep
inside my chest

(Originally Posted 04.09.2019)

Kill Me Now

I could very easily

Have left this job

Taken my life

In a different direction

But as I chose to stay

It’s yet another team day

Answering

This fucking inane question


Work

Well I
guess
there’s
nothing
else for it

Three hours
left wading
through
this
bullshit

Perhaps I
should
hand in
my notice
and quit

At least
then that
would be
the end
of it

(Originally Posted 30.08.2019)

Save Yourself

Who do I think I’m kidding

She said

There’s no way that I could help you

You’d better off going it alone

She said

There’s more chance you’ll make it though


Ter(rain)

I’ll
take
your
hand

If
you
are
frightened

I’ll
hold
you
hair

If
you
feel
sick

I’ll
even
lead
you

To
the
path
of
enlightenment

If
you’re
really
fucking
quick

(Originally Posted 18.07.2020)

Good Weekend?

So as

The tide

At work

To stem

Now I don’t

Even bother

Talking

To them


The Office

Momentory conversations

With temporary people

Sharing fleeting emotions

Providing non-permanent relief

(Originally Posted 09.07.2019)

The Residential Unit

I said this out loud

Believe it or not

Once, in a hospital

That time forgot

Back then I was sick

And definitely tired

As all my issues

Felt pretty hard wired

The poor therapist

Didn’t know where to look

As she scribbled about me

In her hard backed book

The room fell silent

Apart from one boy

Who looked up and smiled

And I jumped for joy

Someone finally understood me

Somebody else felt my pain

So we went and smoked cigarettes

Until group therapy started again


Group Therapy

I’m
glad
you
find
it
helpful

But I
certainly
do not

What’s
the
point
in
telling
tales

When
you’ve
already
lost
the
plot?

(Originally Posted 19.05.2020)

Growing Pale

What is the point

In another day

Living in silence

Wasting away

Especially as

No one cares anyway

Better to go now

Than fade to grey

Expired

If you no longer love each other

Then what’s the fucking point

Just staying together to destroy each other

Noses permanently out of joint

Why not just call it quits

As it’s clear neither of you tries

That has to be better than being miserable

Until one of the two of you dies

#17 The Therapist

Come sit in the comfy chair

And I’ll tell you why you’re ill

We’ve got all night

To spend speaking shite

When your insurance is footing the bill

Namesake

Well that’s me back

In the doldrums again

Months of progress

Down the drain

I can no longer be bothered

With any motivation to find

For it’s clear now nothing will fix

This fragile mind of mine

Graduation (In Absentia)

I do not need your cap and gown

For I already have my own crown

Such pomp and circumstance mean nothing to me

So you can fuck your Master of Arts Degree

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