Sleepwalking

At first it burned…
Deep, harsh and resplendent.
Smoke filled evenings, bad boys,
A bottle of nickle-and-dime, tasteless wine.

Lust I believed was love,
Legal highs and bootleg lows,
Waking up in unfamiliar places,
The comedown, the same old town.

Becoming superannuated
Before my twentieth birthday.
In rundown hotels,
Sleepwalking the corridors, roaming the floors.

When desire turns into addiction,
Go to sleep with a numb tongue.
Then the clock strikes thirty,
And it’s all gone.

I Am Writing a Story…

Where do you want to go? What do you want to see? Beaches with crystal blue seas, forests filled with evergreen trees or mountains reaching high into the heavens all covered in snow? Perhaps you want to travel to a place that doesn’t exist in this world that we know, with lavender skies and fireflies with orange wings aglow. Some read books to find the land where they imagine they belong, but what if I told you there is a place right here, on our own azure planet? A place where each of us can belong.

Secret Songs

She loves to write, she loves to dance,
She’d change the world given half the chance,
But there’s nothing that she loves more than to sing…
She has a smile for everyone,
And she loves writing secret songs,
But she knows you only want her for one thing.

So she keeps it all inside,
Every thought in her mind.

She’ll brighten up your day,
Leave little notes around to say,
That all she ever thinks about is you…
But she knows deep in her heart,
And she knew it from the start,
In her life, love is too good to be true.

So she keeps it all inside,
Every thought in her mind.

Hoping there will come a time,
When she’ll no longer have to hide,
And that maybe you’ll reach out a helping hand…
But she’s been down this road before,
She’s now too bruised to ignore,
That you’re never really going to understand.

So she keeps it all inside,
Every thought in her mind.

And when it all becomes too much,
You don’t listen, you just touch,
So she tries for a while to pretend…
That she can mould herself to be,
The girl that you used to see,
But the story is already at its end.

So she keeps it all inside,
Every thought in her mind.

Then you’ll say that you’ll still talk,
Go for a drink, go for a walk,
And she’ll hope it will be like it was before…
So you’ll go out for a pint,
And then ask her to stay the night,
But when she leaves, post the keys back through your door.

So she keeps it all inside,
Every thought in her mind.

She’ll tell herself to move on,
And she’ll keep writing secret songs,
Pour her feelings out for nobody to see…
Every day her heart keeps breaking,
As she writes her hand is shaking,
And I know all this because that girl is me.

They Roll Their Eyes

I am annoyed. I am angry. But am I allowed to be?

Or is that too concerning, with the badge they have given me?

I am trapped inside my own head and I don’t know what to do.

Too many unanswered questions that I can’t construe.

There isn’t a day that goes by, everything doesn’t feel like doom,

Alone with my thoughts to engulf me in this room.

I want to be understood and yet people roll their eyes,

As if the constant mental torment is nothing more than lies.

As if I want my every thought to shake me to my core,

Can someone please help me not feel this way anymore!?

Because I am sick of “she’s just negative”. I am sick of waiting lists,

I am sick of never getting help, no matter how long I persist.

I am sick. I am sick. I am sick. But not quite sick enough,

See mental health is a number and you have to be pretty high up.

But it’s not just the system that fails us, some really just don’t care,

And they never will, so long as they are never there.

Make an uneducated assessment, return to their personal show,

As they attempt to summarise something they will never know.

Everything hurts, movement, stillness, sleep and dreams,

That burning question remains, “what does all of this mean?”

The pain is killing me slowly, I can feel it as it rots inside,

It lives in me and there is nowhere I can hide.

It’s the most lonely place where everything is grey,

And all that exists are fear, regret, death, pain and decay.

I don’t want to die, I want to learn how to live.

I don’t want to die, I want to learn how to live.

What If I Told You Magic Exists?

If I told you there was magic in this world,

What would you say?

I am not talking fairies, wands, wizards or spells,

Just things science can’t explain away.

When lifelong friends, separated by miles of sea,

Just know when the other will call,

The placebo effect, a mother’s intuition,

Or if dark matter matters at all.

One day we might know the answers we seek,

But I am happy to be alive,

In a time of uncertainty with mystery,

Where one cannot contrive.

Some may never learn,

The beauty that is embracing the unknown,

But it is good for the heart and good for the soul,

To relinquish human control.

To let nature take its course,

And gaze into the abyss,

It has a charm, a real-life magic,

A secretly complicated bliss.

Heron Pike

Following the stream, translucent and blue,

Where seven days ago I had smiled at you.

The same daffodils swayed in the springtime breeze,

I stop to catch a breath beneath the same beech trees.

I didn’t lose my way this time, I stayed right on track,

Just one thing that went wrong, a mere week back.

And when I made it to the top, I almost cried,

Because this time around I felt something inside.

Hope, pride, calm… I felt free,

I didn’t do this for you, I did this for me.

I stand at the top and look down at the view,

Where I was ready to let go of you.

Sky High

As the azure turns to navy,
When the sun sets in the sky,
She wakes up and wanders the streets,
Searching for a high.

When she gets her fix,
and the mean reds melt away,
She makes the same promise,
That she made yesterday.

Tomorrow things will change,
She will have the willpower,
To find happiness and peace,
In a sombre sober hour.

Un Mal Pour un Bien

Everything happens for a reason,

Just maybe not in the way we’ve been told.

Sometimes life can be hard when we’re young,

Yet easier as we grow old…

When the happiest times were the bitterly cold nights

and you could see your breath in the sky…

But when that summer came around,

you were inconsolable for the whole of July.

There was the day that you saw him for the very last time

and the blue was masked with cloud.

Yet whilst your heart was breaking,

the birdsong had never been so loud. 

When you pick the flowers and sing a rainbow,

Take a moment to read between the lines,

Because you might just miss the beauty of it all,

If you don’t learn to open your eyes.

A rainstorm in a drought is a wish come true,

Sunshine during a flood is nature’s rescue,

A tear to the artist can be his greatest breakthrough,

So when things seem difficult, you know what to do…

Take a breath and smile, it’s only a blip,

Because the bad can be great on this miraculous trip.

Pluviophile

Don’t tap against my windows

Make as much noise as you can

Drench me to my very core

Let go weatherman.

Blow before your lungs collapse

Lift the roof from this home

Tear up the concrete drive

Break through the Thatchere’d stone.

Take me away with you

You can be my guide

So kick down the door

and let yourself inside.