A Deeper Shade of Black.

It's quietly simmering away
the pretence of things being okay.
I can't look at your face, I'm ashamed
'cause inside I know I am claimed.

I can't change the past
so I won't even try.
How can we last
when we just collide?

We're too alike
and that's why we fight.
But it tears me up inside
to see you cry

I miss you like;
A plant would miss the water and the sun,
like a suicidal would miss a loaded gun.
If I could,
I'd kiss you like you'd never been kissed,
if I thought your heart could be won.

I've found myself on the event horizon
the point of no return.
I'm Icarus flying too close to the sun
And, like hell, it burns.

Whenever I try to resist
you cripple my resolve
with just one unconquerable blow.
The fog descends into mist
leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Walls closing in without a sound
Sunny skies overcome by cloud
Hearts sinking like the Titanic
With even less life boats
It makes me sick
I can barely cope.

Hands strangling me which are not there.
Crippling my body, starved of air.
Vice grip on my heart
I no longer care
if I live or I die.
Not my decision to share. 

Pictures collected. 
Memories filed. 
Access denied. 
Too painful to smile. 

On the surface there's anger
inside is a disaster zone
Is there much point in putting pen to paper
when my soul is all alone? 

I've got a black hole where my heart used to be
I stand shackled and chained to the floor
Prisoner in a world, but I don't want to be set free
I don't want the key that opens that door. 

Pills don't ease the pain
Just leave me feeling numb
I should be used to this
This is the life I've claimed
Twenty-two years, it's become
Almost something I'd miss. 

Pain is my affliction
Without it, I barely function
Never been stable, nights full of tears. & cries
It's an addiction
With all the lows & none of the highs
That's what happens when a child is born into dysfunction. 

Life seems to be redefining me constantly
Don't even recognise my reflection in the mirror
The changes I see are more than a little unsettling
Find myself wanting to go from Saint to Sinner. 

Flames burning the candle 
at both ends.
Feelings getting hard to handle,
and no one understands. 

Nobody but you. 

You're my Cocaine, Weed & Ecstasy all in one
my Ultimate high & Beautiful come-down
Every time I say "I'm done"
I find my decision gets turned upside down.

With just one smile. 

So put my mind at ease
And let me heal your wounds
I need to find a bittersweet release
To settle this chaotic mood. 

I've gone from being down on one knee
To being down on both. 
The emotion inside me is relentlessly fierce
How can you think I'd want to be free
From the person to whom I'm betrothed?
I'm dying a painful death like a major artery has been pierced

I still don't wish to escape this fate. 
I'm at the apex of this learning curve
Maybe this pain is the retribution my soul deserves
Am I to blame for the problems my past creates?

Paranoia - People are staring. Do they see through my façade?
Insecurity - I'm not good enough. 
Jealousy - What's he got that I haven't?
Guilt - Is this all my fault?
Fatalism - This was always going to happen. 

I don't deserve happiness.

What possible start
could a young child have,
when they've been told they're bound to wind up a criminal?
Doesn't it matter what's in my heart?
Or am I forever exiled from being saved?
I refuse to accept that sentence, I stand bold.
I'm a fucking fighter; I have been from the very start

Like Atlas, there's a world on my shoulders
Cupid has no place in this
The one I need is Anteros
Like Icarus, I'm a moth to the flame. 

I'm the Achilles, you're my heel
I am Perseus and this depression is my Medusa
I'd sacrifice anything to be unable to feel
Many would have given up, I refuse to

And just like my mind, this is spinning out of control
It may be chaotic but it soothes my soul
Keeps me warm and safe from the cold
These words forever immortal, can not get old...

Valentines Day, 2009.

"I’m gonna kill you!” She yelled as she ran towards me, the knife in her hand. Her eyes used to be a mesmerising shade of hazel. Now they seemed almost possessed, infuriated, and dangerously out of control. 

As she made one swift movement with her left hand I thought I had been punched. I fell to the floor cradling my stomach struggling for Oxygen Winded. Something warm and wet trickled over my fingertips and onto the carpet.

Blood.

Then the pain hit me. I whined as it ripped through my stomach. “Shut the fuck up!” She pulled me onto my feet by the back of my t-shirt and screamed into my face. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” What had I done to make her so mad? Did I forget to get the Milk on the way back from work? What had I done this time?

She walked over to the window, her body trembling. “Why am I surrounded by bloody idiots?” My eyes struggled to focus on her back as she turned to face me. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, retard!” 

I couldn’t focus.

She came at me again. Eyes wide open. Teeth clenched together. The vein rose in her temple as she stared into my eyes. I grabbed the nearest thing to me. A baseball bat. As she moved to hurt me again, I swung the bat. It connected with the inside of her wrist, sending the knife flying out of her hand and crashing onto the table.

She let out a low whine, cradled her wrist and stared at me with her war face. Her body straightened up slowly as she turned to face me dead on. A smile crept through her face. Her eyes smiled with it. She rubbed her wrist again and began to walk towards me. Slow and full of confidence. I backed up until I tripped onto the bed. A twinge of pain was met by my hands hastily attempting to subdue it. My retreat was followed by her slow fluid movement towards me, her face softening as the ‘puppy dog eyes’ made it to her face again. 

“Aww, what’s up baby K bear? There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just me. You know what’s so great about fighting?” she smiled again, that beautiful smile. “We get to make up”.

“I-I’m bleeding” 

“It’s just a scratch babe” she sat down beside me, and ran her fingers over my hips. “Normally this works really well” she winked at me this time.

“I c-can’t. I think I need to go to a hospital” 

She ran her fingers over the inside of both of my wrists and gripped them tightly, forcing them over my head. I let out a low moan, the skin around my wound stretched. Inducing more pain.

“You like it rough, do you?” she mocked, a malicious expression infected her familiar eyes, ridding them of any ounce of compassion that she had left.

“Please don’t” but my plea was no use. That just fuelled her motive. Her face hardened, her eyes seemed to hone in on something I had said, like a guided missile. Another smile found its way to her lips.

“Why not? You’ve never said no before. Besides, whatever you don’t give me, I will take from you.” I opened my mouth to speak. She used one hand to trap both of mine and pressed a finger to my mouth. She smiled, leaned into my ear, whispering “Just like your lovely stepdad did when you were seven”

I froze. I had never told anyone else that. I just wanted to forget it. I knew it could be used against me. But I trusted her. She let out a schoolgirl giggle. “Hit a nerve? Come on, take your clothes off” she started undoing the buttons of my work shirt. Flashbacks met my mind with unparalleled power. That Saturday, in summer. I couldn’t go through all of this again. I’d come so far.

“Stop!” I yelled half at her and half at the memory. Her eyes widened with surprise. I’d never raised my voice to her before. She sat on my lap, still holding my wrists above my head. She leaned in to me her eyes fixed on mine. She came so close to me that I could almost taste her breath. Her lips brushed mine softly then she pulled away slightly. She leaned in again and kissed me with such force that I felt the skin on the inside of my mouth snag against my teeth. Her eyes stayed fixed on mine the whole time. When she had finished, she pulled away, so I could taste blood mixed with saliva. She tasted it too and spat it out onto the carpet.

I rolled over into the foetal position holding my stomach, as tears began to roll their way down my hot cheeks. I’d let this happen to me again. I didn’t even try to fight her off me. I knew there was no point. I didn’t have the strength in me. I felt her get up from the bed.

She ran her fingers through my hair softly. “You were great. As usual” I stared at the wall, trying to repress from my memory what had just happened forever. She got up and turned to me “Hey, I was talking to you!” She grabbed my hair and pulled me up from the bed. “Get dressed. You disgust me”

She looked around the room, searching for something as I tried to stay upright. My dizziness had reached new heights. 

“Ah!” she chirped.

I remember thinking Oh my God, what has she found?

“This’ll do” she said, slowly putting on my motorbike gloves, the ones with the carbon fibre knuckles. She delivered a sucker punch to my stomach. Point blank range onto the seeping wound. 

I fell to the floor now covered in blood. An excruciating pain made its way through my stomach, and my chest, as I kneeled to cradle the pain in a futile hope that it would stop. A pain in my left breast. A tingling. I was finding it hard to breathe.

My heart…

I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear.

Was I dead?

Another pain tore its way through the back of my head and down my neck. I opened my eyes. Pressed my fingertips against my scalp. 

Thick.

Sticky.

Like Jam.

More blood.

She had hit me round the back of the head with a chair. I leaned back against the cool wall. I could just make out the outline of her body. She was standing over me. Forcing me to swallow something.

A scarily familiar taste hit my tongue. It tasted chalky. Wrong.

The world started spinning. I was no longer in fear of what may happen today. I didn’t feel happy. Didn’t feel sad. For once, I felt at peace. Is this how it feels to die?

This was not how I pictured my life ending.

I thought back to all of the rows that I had with my family before she convinced me to move out. Why didn’t I listen to them?

They always knew best.

My eyes close for what I come to believe will be the last time…

“Hello? Hello, can you hear me?” a voice comes out of nowhere.

“Do you know where you are?”

There is a strong smell. Cleaning fluids. Sanitisation.

A rhythmic high-pitched beeping followed by the mechanical sound of breathing apparatus.

I wake up.

The outline of a woman dressed in blue meets my eyes. Fuzzy. Blurred. She leans over me. Mum is holding my hand, crying and caressing my cold fingers with her thumb.

“Mum…” I whisper, fighting back tears.

“Shh” She doesn’t look at me. “Why did you do it? Why didn’t you come to us? How could you do this to me?”

“But Mum –” How could she think I did this to myself?

She lets go of my hand and turns away. “There are people here to see you”

My eyes meet the wall at the end of the bed. Two police officers. They introduce themselves as Hayley and Michaela. Hayley replaces my mum on my left hand side as they take a seat on either side of my bed. Michaela clears her throat as she takes out her notebook.

After asking ‘routine’ questions, they ask my mum to wait outside. I protest but mum insists on getting a Coffee, and leaves the room. She doesn’t even like coffee. Not from hospital vending machines anyway.

Michaela is the first to break the silence. “Firstly I need to tell you that you are being placed under arrest on suspicion of Actual Bodily Harm. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you would later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?” 

I nod. What are they arresting me for? I know I hit her with a baseball bat but that was self defence!

“I want to begin by asking you what you remember of 15th February of this year”. My eyes are still fixed on the door my mum left open.

I’m confused. “What’s the date today?” I ask no one in particular.

“It’s Maundy Thursday” Michaela says, looking at the crucifix on the table by my hospital bed.

“Maundy Thursday?” I run through the Christian calendar in my head. “That’d mean… April…?” I frown, trying to remember.

“Ninth” Hayley finishes my sentence for me. 

“We have arranged for you to see to see an independent psychologist to assess you; she’ll be here in an hour or so” Hayley fails at reassuring me.

“What do I need a psychologist for?” I snap under what she is insinuating.

They both look at each other then back at me. They think I tried to kill myself. “The doctors found a large amount of Paracetamol in your system, and officers found an empty bottle in your hand, could you explain how it got there?” Hayley was trying to be open minded, as if she could somehow believe me, but I could see through her act.

I can not remember the whole thing; huge blurs in memory fill my account.

I tell them my story…

Maybe this time I will be believed.

Strength

Middle of the night,

the skies are black. 

The street lights light my path,

there's no turning back. 

This moment is already gone,

forever suspended in time.

Life doesn't come with a pause button,

you're the craziest of diamonds, so go ahead and shine. 

There's always space for one more,

if you want to take on the world together. 

Sometimes the weak become the strong,

let's begin to sever these ball-and-chain tethers. 

There's no one stronger,

than the person who

when shoved to the floor,

gets right back up,

stronger than before.

That's who I want to be, how about you?

Let's Talk - Part 2

The sound of 'This Means War' by Nickelback fills the room. How I've grown to loathe that song. I pull the pillow over my head and press down in the hope that it’ll drown out Chad Kroeger's voice. Don’t get me wrong, I love Nickelback, but having them wake me up every damn morning I don’t like so much. I don’t like it at all in fact.

I’ve given up trying to drown out the music. I reach down onto the floor and pick up my iPhone. I slide my finger from left to right. The music stops. I breathe a sigh of relief and lay my head back onto the pillow. I know I have ten more minutes until the electric guitar of the introduction to ‘This Means War’ starts again, telling me that I really do need to get up or I will be late.

The sun is streaming in through the windows. I don't close the curtains. Although I prefer it, being in the dark too long plays havoc with my migraines.

I sigh again and pull my covers over my head, closing my eyes. I begin to slowly drift off into a world that contains all of my dreams and nightmares. I wonder which one I'll have today… a dream or a nightmare.

I question myself why I’m bothering to wonder that when I already know the answer. Sure, with the pills I have I have a better chance of having plain weird dreams than anything else. But I’d say around 90-95% of the dreams I have are nightmares.

As I slip deeper and deeper into unconsciousness I am relaxed. The dream seems to have started off pleasantly. I’m walking through a field. Grass all around me as far as the eye can see. No trees or flowers. Just lush green grass. I look up and the sky is bright blue. I close my eyes and smile. Maybe I was wrong after all.

A series of loud bangs prove me wrong. Gunfire. I open my eyes and look down to the floor to see the lush green grass melt away into hot dry sand. I slowly raise my head to see there's no grass anymore. Just sand. Sand and bodies. Gunshots and screams fill the air.

I look back to see I’m wearing boots and camo pants. I look at my chest to see I’m in full combat uniform with my weapon in my hands. I raise my head and look dead ahead of me. My eyes lock onto a child’s. Shit. Not this again.

I find myself wishing I could hear Nickelback again. In this moment I don’t believe I've appreciated them anywhere near enough. The guitar riff is nowhere to be heard.

Fuck! Eyes still on the boy, I see him edge forward towards me. I know exactly where this is going and what is going to happen. I’ve had this dream way too many times before for me to think I can change the outcome. But, for some reason, it never stops me from trying. The boy is bleeding. He begins to fall forward…

Just as I find my feet I take off running towards him. I pass bodies strewn over the sand, pools of red surrounding them. I hear my comrades covering me with suppressive fire. Dropping my weapon as I fall onto my knees I check his heart rate. It’s slow and weak. His t-shirt is soaked in blood at the front in a long line. He must have been shot. He’s just a kid.

I rip his t-shirt open to see if I can use it to compress the wound in the hope to stop the blood but what I see stops me in my tracks. Small horizontal metal lines untidily placed from the top of his sternum to his belly button. Industrial staples. My hand comes up to the back of my head and grips my hair. Grab. Pull. Release. Grab. Pull. Release. Grab. Pull. Release.

My other hand is trying to stop the blood flow. I shake myself out of my shock and put both my hands to work on stopping the blood flow. I hear him desperately mumbling but I don't understand the language too well. The only words I manage to make out are ‘Please’ and ‘Help’.

I nod to him and reply “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll have you up and about in no time”. I smile, even though I know I’m lying through my teeth. I could have told him I was David Beckham and it wouldn’t have mattered. He has no idea what I was saying but I keep my tone soft, and I try to smile and reassure him. Part of me realises that I’m more telling him it’ll be okay to reassure myself rather than him. I know he’s going to die. I know I can’t stop it. There’s too much blood. But have to try.

He’s starting to go really pale, almost grey in colour. He’s bleeding out, and he’s not doing it slowly either. “No, no, stay with me” I look into his deep brown eyes and realise he’s no longer looking back at me. He’s gone.

“Shit!” I close my eyes and look down at my hands covered in blood. I open my eyes again and see that his hand on top of mine and he’s holding something. It’s a small fabric Union Jack patch and an American Cent.

I take one last look in the boy’s eyes and shake my head as I place my hand over his forehead. Bringing it down to the bottom of his nose, closing his eyelids at the same time. “I hope you find Peace buddy”. The words come as barely a whisper.

There is a rip of Velcro as I open my pocket and take out a small pair of wire cutters. I start to cut each stable from top to bottom. As I part the skin I am met by a truly horrific sight. A device. A bomb.

Who could do this to a child?

Just as both my hands reach my hair and grab, the guitar riff to ‘This Means War’ meets my ears. How fitting. I wake up with a start and sit up in bed. “Thank God” I say between breaths, wiping my brow of sweat. I swipe my finger from left to right on my iPhone. As soon as I see the time, I know I'm already running late. Somehow find the energy to get up and walk into the bathroom, start the shower, strip off and climb in.

Ironically, this happens most days. Some people believe I’m lazy. Trust me, I’m not. My depression makes it incredibly difficult for me to function on a day to day basis like other people do. I find it hard to wake up and find the energy to get out of bed. I have almost no motivation to do absolutely anything.

When I manage to get to sleep I never want to wake up. Even though I love it, sometimes I don’t even have the motivation to pick up a pen and put it to paper. But when inspiration hits? That’s when nothing is stopping me. With anything else? I’m screwed.

Unless I force myself to eat, I go days without eating. Even when I’m thirsty, I don’t drink anything. To the point where I had bad headaches due to dehydration. Eventually,I force myself to eat and drink. I force myself to eat or drink. I force myself to do other regular things that ‘regular’ people do.

Unless you suffer from depression, you can never understand just how difficult it is for me to do normal things like hold down a job or maintain any kind of relationship, whether it be with family, friends, or more.

Twenty-four minutes or so after getting into the shower, and I’m already dried off and dressed. I grab my stuff and start the journey through the snow to my appointment.

A few doors down the sound of a car door slamming is mistaken by my brain to be a gunshot. I crouch down and look around me to see a familiar face. She smiles a broad smile and lifts her hand to wave at me. I wave back, pretend for a second that I’m tying my shoelaces, then stand up and begin my journey again.

Let's Talk - Part 1 (In support of Mind's 'Time to Change' campaign)

People describe it differently. Most people say it's like a mist or a fog that descends all around them. Some even describe it as being a darkness. Sure, at first, for me it was just like that. Then it changed. For the worse. I suppose the easiest way to describe it would be to say that where there is light, for those who are unaffected, there is darkness for the others. Sure, it would be far-fetched to assume that darkness is all there is, but sometimes, sometimes, it is all there is.

Sure, there are times when things are 'normal'. As normal as normal can be anyway. 'Glimmers of Hope' I guess you could call them. But, I believe, a perfect comparison could be made between the reaction I have to the Glimmers of Hope and something quite morbid. A lot of people reading this will be familiar with the notion of losing somebody close to them.

If it's not too painful, try to cast your mind back to a time you were grieving. A time where it was just too painful to think about or talk about, and especially too painful to allow yourself to be happy. Only, sometimes we can't help but let something make us happy. That's what we all yearn for after all.

Imagine a moment where you've been happy after that loss happened. Then you catch yourself smiling like you've never smiled before, reality hits you like a sledgehammer round the head. You remember what you lost. A pain hits you right in your chest. Lump in your throat. Stomach churning. You feel sick with guilt that you could have let yourself forget.

That's what it feels like when 'the darkness descends'. Only, with me, it's not a mist or a fog. It's like a thick dark grey plume of smoke. As if I'm in a room and there's a fire right outside the door. I can't see. I can't breathe. I'm literally choking. The walls are closing in to quick for me to try make them stop. There's nowhere to go either.

However, it's not all 'doom-and-gloom'. There are moments of inexplicable anger. Undisputed rage. Judging by my past, it would be easy to say where it all comes from, but the truth is... This much rage? The way it bubbles away inside of me, festers, in fact... That's another symptom of depression.

I guess it effects everyone in a different way.

Depression destroys people. Not only that, but it destroys families, marriages and relationships. It completely destroys lives. In fact, it ends them.

I know exactly when I'm starting to get stressed out to the point of breaking down and the room starts to fill up with smoke. My breathing increases along with my heart rate. My complexion lightens. My skin becomes pale and clammy. My palms become hot and sweaty. Every little sound is amplified until I am unable to distinguish anyone's voice.

An amount of un-required energy makes my body tremble. Adrenaline coursing through my veins, carried by around 8 pints of blood that my heart is frantically pumping around my body. I look down at my hands and it's only then that I realise they're clenched tight into fists, as well as my jaw. My lungs fill with air. The same air that I force out of my nose ten seconds later, all the while keeping my jaw clenched. Before I know it, my hand comes up.

Not to wrap my fist around someone's chin, but to wrap it around my hair and pull. Grab. Pull. Release. Grab. Pull. Release. Grab. Pull. Release. I've done it so much since my depression got this bad that I'm surprised I'm not bald in some spots by now. Sometimes when I've pulled and opened up my hand, a few hairs are left clinging to the skin around my fingers.

I know I should stop doing it before it's too late, but I can't. I don't even know I'm doing it until I see the strands of hair on my fingers. I suppose it's my very own personal comfort blanket.

People see me as being a miserable bastard, probably because I always seem to be in a mood. What they don't realise is, I don't mean to be. I can't help how I'm feeling. Ever since I can remember I've had this internal struggle going on. I try and fight it but to be quite honest, I don't even know what I'm fighting against! All I know is I've always felt like there was a part of me missing.

I don't trust people easily. In fact, I'm very sceptical of the intentions of anyone who approaches me. I've always been that way so I doubt it's anything to do with depression, though I bet it doesn't help the situation. I suppose the most appropriate word I could use to describe it would be 'paranoia'.

This paranoia effects my behaviour in more ways than I have the time or energy to express to you on paper right now. So I'll mention just two. It determines what seat I take on a bus, or in a room (if I choose to even get on a bus let alone sit down on it in the first place). It also inhibits my social skills. I mean, if I put my mind to it, I guess I could make friends easily. I just prefer not to. I don't let people in close enough to hurt me (of course, there have been exceptions, but just as my theory predicts, they've ended up hurting me - or I've beat them to it and hurt them before they could hurt me).

My therapist tells me that this kind of behaviour has been learned (I'm assuming as part of my primal survival instinct) and put to use as a defence mechanism to protect me from the things in my past. She's made me realise that these behaviours might not be needed as much as they used to be and that maybe I should find a way to tone them down a little. But it's just not that simple. Once the darkness descends, and the room has filled with smoke... Nothing. Nothing is simple.

My Prayer.

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord, my soul to keep
if I should die, before I wake
I pray the Lord, my soul to take

Now I lay me down to sleep
You put your hands where she shouldn't be
From this day I will be filled with and fuelled by hate
My innocence was never yours to take.

Homecoming

            I’ll never forget the day she came home. I opened the door and she was just standing there with bags in her hands and sunglasses shielding her eyes. It had been raining all day, but I didn’t mind. I threw my arms around her and she winced. All I could think of was at least she was home. At last I could keep her safe now.

            She didn’t want to take her sunglasses off, she couldn’t have been able to see, but I didn’t want to pester her so I left her to it, which was always my problem. Not wanting to lose her. I almost did, about a month or so before.

            She was rubbing the marks on her wrists, from the handcuffs, which were concealed under her long sleeves. She said the officers didn’t take too kindly to what she had been accused of, and they didn’t apologise when they found out that the allegations were all lies – she would never have raised her hand, unlike her accuser, who was released without charge, and not even a caution – Justice!

            I wondered just how many wounds, burns and bruises she was hiding from me. I poured her a cup of tea and sat in front of her. She reached for the sugar. I never made it sweet enough for her. As she stretched, her wrist became naked of her long sleeves that were the accessory of her secrecy. I saw the hospital identification tag, with her name and date of birth printed on it. The day I had so many hopes and dreams for my little girl. She was 19 on this day, and so far, none of these hopes or dreams had become a reality. Only nightmares for the both of us.

            The last thing I wanted was for her to end up with someone like her father. End up like me. I tried to protect her. She wouldn’t listen. She never did. But that’s just what teenagers do, isn’t it?

            I could have done more. I should have done more. I could have stopped her going out. Made her change schools, that’s where they were seeing each other. I could have taken her phone. But it turns out she had a secret one all along. I should have locked her in her room and locked all the windows. But then I’d be as bad as her father. He did all that, but it never stopped her.

            She gets her stubbornness from me, he says. Je seems to think all her flaws come from her. Only the good stuff could ever come from him, in his eyes. She definitely has his temper. I’m surprised she was never in and out of prison like he was at her age. But she has a heart of Gold.

            She told me she had never raised a hand, and never would, to her now ex-girlfriend. I know when she’s lying. That’s how I know it was the truth.

I’d dropped the teaspoon onto the table with a clatter, and she flinched and began shaking. It would take a lot to get used to her new anxiety disorder. The psychologist said that it was all to be expected after what she’s been through. I went to hug her, but she recoiled. I knew then, that things would never be the same.

The End

I’m stuck in this hell /

An eternal nightmare /

I scream ‘til I faint and nobody even cares /

They say “Shut up, you’re fine” /

But inside I’m slowly dying /

I don’t know why I’m breathing /

I don’t know why I’m trying /

Why don’t I just quit, that’s it, I’m done /

I’m ‘bout to blow my head off point blank with this gun /

And when the sun comes up, I’ll be gone /

But everyone will laugh and play /

For them, it’s just a normal day /

Cock back the chamber and wait /

Savour my last moments before my escape /

Click … Click …

Boom …

My Life

I’ve rolled thru this life /

Of trouble and strife /

Back when I had beef I’d just take a knife /

Step to them and slice /

Bring back the blade and dice /

But at the end it was me who paid the price /

Got held up in a heist /

At gunpoint, coulda got shot, coulda died /

Wouldn’t have the chance to say bye bye /

To my family, all cuz of one guy /

Not I ain’t even gonna lie /

Cuz I can not deny /

That my /

Legs were shakin’ the whole damn time /

The words of blasphemy, they were all mine /

I didn’t know that later I’d turn to organised crime /

I always pretended that I was fine /

Ever since the shit that happened when I was nine /

When I had to go away and pine /

For my dead cousin, I would have done anything for a sign /

That God was real, I heard it through the grapevine /

She was struck down with AIDS /

After her boyfriend paid /

For sex and passed it onto her, had another killed in a raid /

But he got what was due /

And you will too / …

Loneliness (Feb 11th 2003)

Tomorrow I’ll be thirteen

Looking at the past in another day dream

Staring out a window of this crowded house

But sitting silent in a lonely room

You're a Mystery

I laid awake all of last night thinking about you

Of all the things I should say and what I should do

I don’t need to spell it out, you know how I feel

I know you’re feeling like this is unreal, but it’s the real deal

I don’t understand you; you’re a mystery to me

Can’t you see I’m not like everybody else?

I would only ever wanna make you happy, safe from pain

How many others could confidently make that claim?

Michael

I don’t know why I’m crying so much

I didn’t know him that well, but

Now I’ll never get the chance

Never get the chance.

The room is so quiet and so cold

People are talking about times of old

All I can do is imagine

All I have is my imagination

As soon as we met, it was like we clicked

Conversation ran free, no need for a kick start

We could have talked forever, but time was limited

Time is forever limited

Our time runs out all too quick

And I am full of regret

It’s true what they say, strike while the iron is hot

I wish I had struck while the iron was hot

I feel as if I’ve been walking through a never-ending maze

All my life, stumbling over everything, confused and in a daze

It took this day to bring me closer to the centre, tranquillity

Why does it take something so horrible, to bring us closer to tranquillity?

Why does it take something so horrible to bring us together?

Mornings.

I wake up feeling like there’s an earthquake in my head

I have to get up, although I’d rather stay in bed

But if I stay any longer, it’ll just get worse

I’m tired of being cursed.

I walk around in a daze most of the day

The only thing I notice is the movement of the pain

From my head to my neck and down into my back

I don’t really know what’s going on, my senses are out of whack.

Sat in a lecture but it’s not sinking in

Fighting a mental battle that I will never win

My tutor’s lips are moving, but I can’t hear a sound

The hour’s up – I step into the crowd.

I fade away into anonymity

Stuck in my prison, it’s easy to see

The pain fuels the depression,

And my depression is my poison.

A Simple Decision

            I sat outside on a park bench, staring through the windows of the building in front of me. People were walking around in the business of the High Street on a Saturday afternoon, but I had no idea of what any of them looked like. Im not blind, I was just concentrating, and concentrating hard.

            So many thoughts were running through my head. I was thinking of the consequences to the actions I would take, when I picked one of the two possibilities. If I picked the first, I would still have exactly the same problems. If I picked the second, all my problems would be solved.

            But if my family found out I was sat here, thinking about doing this, then id lose them, again. My wife, my kids, for good. Everything that I love. We are finding it hard to cope. Im not around as much as my kids would like me to be. But, if I cut down on my hours at work, we will struggle to pay the bills. We struggle enough.

When my David was born, I saw that such a little thing would need taking care of, and when I saw his face, I made him a promise. I swore that I would give him whatever he wanted. Keep him safe. How can I keep him safe when him never around? How can I give him whatever he needs when I can barely pay the bills?

I’m about to make the biggest decision of my life. It’s a gamble, but I like my odds.

The Reason Life Changed Forever

December 3^rd

            When we got back, she walked straight into the bedroom. I made her a cup of tea and went to give it to her, but the door was locked. I knocked softly, but there was no reply. I left the cup outside the door, in case she changed her mind.

            I went and laid on the sofa, sinking into the cushions. They were really soft, but not soft enough. I wanted them to swallow me whole, transport me to a parallel universe, where everything was still perfect. It’s cliché to say I felt like the Earth had been ripped out from underneath my feet. But that’s exactly how I felt. God knows how she felt.

            I lay there, stuck in a daydream, my mind replaying what had happened. After a while, my eyes drifted onto the bags of gifts we had been given just days earlier. Boxes and gift bags full of stuff we would now never get to open. We wouldn’t be able to bear it. But, when we were ready, we would give them all back, in the vain hope that they had kept their receipts. It would be the least of their worries, but though.

--

December 11th

            We’ve had phone calls and messages ‘just to see how you guys are. Call me, please?’ We’ll get texts and voicemails from both of our families, and all of our close friends, and yet, nearly all of them sound exactly the same. No originality. Just because they don’t understand. They could never understand.

            Visitors at the door come with Pyrex dishes of lasagne, casseroles, and other meals to ‘save you from cooking’, we would reluctantly ask for them to come in, just out of politeness. They would say yes, and just walk in. Can’t they see we just want to be alone?

            They take one look at the mess and I can tell, they feel even more uncomfortable. They even try and tidy up for us. That gets Jen agitated. She shouts at them to get out and leave us alone. Of course, they’re sympathetic and try to apologise, but that’s not enough.

April 27^th

            They’ve forgotten about us. They’ve moved on with their lives. Jack and Sarah are getting married, and my sister is pregnant. We didn’t find out from them though. We found out through Twitter and Facebook. We haven’t heard from them in weeks. We haven’t received an invitation to the wedding, and I have no idea when Mel’s baby is due. Even the bar invitations stopped after half a dozen of our excuses.

            While they’re moving on, we’re still stuck in the past. The snow is gone, the sun still rises in the east and sets in the west, the birds still sing in the morning, and the foxes still rag the bin bags at night; but we are still stuck in the past.

May 11^th

            Jen and I barely speak these days. She took her ring off two weeks ago because she ‘was washing my hands’ but she hasn’t put it back on since. I can’t really expect anything less when we haven’t even slept in the same room for almost six months.

            I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love her, but I can’t see hoe we can move on. When I try to talk to her about what happened, we just start arguing. She blames me, and I’ll admit, I’ve blamed her in the past. It’s hard for us to believe that neither of us is to blame, that this wasn’t either of our faults.

            Jen quit her job, so we’re struggling with the bills. I now work a seven day week, just so we can make ends meet. The hustle and bustle of a city is completely different to our flat when I get back. Complete silence, unless the TV is on.

            We don’t leave the flat together unless it’s to do the food shopping, or to our therapy appointments. Other than those two trips a week, she doesn’t leave the flat at all. At least, I don’t think she does.

            I spend hours at night, when I think she’s asleep, just remembering how we used to be. Nights curled up in front of the TV, comfortable and content. How could this happen? We were told it wasn’t anything we did, or didn’t do, so what was it?

            Could it have been the mobile phone masts nearby? Maybe it was all the E numbers we eat, were we getting enough exercise? I just don’t know. Our doctor said that only time will tell if we could try again, but first, we need to save our relationship.

A Token of Hope

I hear the words you whisper to me

Your voice is distorted

My vision is blurred, but i can still see

A world without you would be a corrupted

You’re saying that without me, you’re nothing

That can not be true

You have no idea what you bring

To this world of violence and crime

I’ll send you a white dove

In the hope you dont send back a black rose.

An Apology – 20/02/2011 @ 9.21pm

When I look into your eyes

I can see your pain.

So let me in,

I can take the strain.

I’m the reason

That you feel this way.

Let me prove I am sorry

And make everything okay.

I know what I did was wrong

I know I’m a hypocrite.

But I wish I could take it back.

I treated you like shit.

I witnessed something

That shook my very foundations.

So I lashed out,

Didn’t hand out a chance to explanation.

I refuse to lie to you.

I did want to get you back

For what I thought you did to me

But my intuition was way out of whack.

You and me were always two of a kind.

You were always there, I just didn’t realise

Up until recently. I’ve been so blind!

The depth of your feelings were more than just a surprise.

I was the one in your “Grenade”

Until one day I woke up inside.

You tried to change yourself, so I would notice, but I love you “Just the way you are”

And I now feel the same “When we collide”

I shouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion

I made like Jack in The Shining

I fucked everything up

But every cloud has a silver lining

I remember the time, out with the girls

Just a normal day.

People thought Hayley was ours.

That smile, full of Pride, but your Heart, full of pain.

I know how it feels to be a mule amongst a stable of horses.

Your barriers are up

But I will stay my course

Ready for when you’re ready (to let me in)

There is only a brick wall between us

But it feels like so much more

You’re nearby, but you feel so far away.

But I will stay my course.

You know the lengths I will go

To keep you safe

You saw it with your own eyes

I don’t need a poker face.

If someone raised a knife or a gun to hurt you

I’d push you to the floor

Take your place

And never be less than 100% sure.

I’ve pushed you away from oncoming cars

Jumped on a railway, when you fell

Ran into a burning building

Jumped into a frozen lake.

There is nothing I wouldn’t do.

Addiction

I walk down these aisles, staring at the floor

I know if I look up I’ll be wanting more

This compulsion is getting stronger

Quitting is getting harder.

This addiction’s grip is getting tighter

My screams for reprieve are getting louder

These scars will not heal

And I’ve lost all will power.

People assure me that I’ve got their support

But right now, it always seems to come up short

Because I’m in the middle of a Pandemic

And I can no longer bear it.

The Day You Came Back – 20/02/2011 @ 9.00pm

I still remember the day you came back

You were wearing a Phoenix shirt, shorts and sandals

I still remember the way you smelt

Like flowers, sun tan lotion, and sea salt.

You’re hair was so blonde, dyed from the sunlight

And you were so brown. Tanned. God, you looked different

But the one thing that didn’t

Was your smile.

I still remember the day you left.

You picked your things and just went.

Got on a plane, so far away.

Didn’t even say Goodbye.

When our eyes met in arrivals.

Something ignited in me

and I’ve been unable to explain it until recently

during that time we were apart…

I never stopped loving you.

CTBK

You raise your voice.

You’ve got an audience.

You “demand respect” from me,

and no one else.

Yet when it all falls down,

and hits the fan

you count on me

to come up with a plan

and I always relent.

But not this time.

No way.

You gotta be cruel to be kind.

#1202900362

Sit alone staring at the same four walls

Examine the whitewash with my eyes

There’s a crack from one end to the other

That’s where the water gets in

My eyes trace each path the cracks make

It’s been there ever since I moved in

Nothing will be done until the walls fall down

And then it’d be too late

No one would miss me here

I can’t remember the last time I saw the sky

The Sun, the Moon, the Stars.

There’s no world out here anymore.

No matter how long I spend asleep

I’m always tired

I can barely think straight

But that’s exactly what they want

They want you to stay quiet, dormant

Empty of emotion

I like the lack of emotion part

I’ve cried too many times

In the day,

The silence is deafening

But at night,

The cries,

The screams,

It’s unbearable.

Bee vs. Hornet

I’m better than Muhammed Ali, I don’t sting like a bee / I make like a hornet, and I do that shit for free / I’m not a one-hit-wonder, I do this like you wouldn’t believe / I make hits / like a violent parent / all my lyrics are original, so I can take the credit / and not have to share it / I’ll be around for a number of years / getting better as time progresses / just as if I’m shifting gears / and I’ve barely gotten out of neutral / and you’ll be the one who confesses / you get the shakes / that you just can’t take / from me tearing you apart / so go take some pills / to prevent an attack on your heart /