Sometimes Being Home Is The Best Wander.

I got what I thought was an odd Christmas present from my mum in middle of my winter crisis, the thermal flask above. At the time the last thing I wanted to do was explore but now I kinda get the message, I don’t think it’s was meant in a literally go forth and wander sense. More like, your bipolar,it sucks, explore ways to cope with it and keep yourself out of hospital. I carry it everywhere now and the the most wonderful thing about this flask is my daughter thinks water from it is the best ever (even though it’s just from the tap). You know I think she’s right. Thanks mum.

Peace D

Home

Won’t you take me home, sick of being alone.

I don’t live in this dry wall block, I’m not just average stock.

… But then I’m nothing special and I deserve more than this, with my head resting on your fist.

My home has clouds and mountains, not badly maintained monument fountains.

Sick people coughing their lungs on the clock tower steps, pigeons, dust and litter unswept.

Take me home, maybe I should be alone.

Bracing the wind on the cliffs, my life in my hands and not yours.

D September 2018

Accept

I need proof of my existence like I need a bullet to the head.

For all I know this is all a dream and the whole world is already dead.

I’ll float in this spiral of empty essence, spinning in infinity,

There’s no book in the world to prove my heritage and divinity.

How the hell are you ever going to understand my insanity?

When you don’t even accept yours….

D September 2018

Focus

So it seems I have had several opportunities come up for me recently after a very harsh winter where I felt I had lost everything and the only viable option seemed to be to ride off into the sun set and not return.

Now as my Psyche drugs get balanced right and I look hard into my life I realise I don’t need a councillor, or a saviour, I just need to focus.

Talking with my other half I have discovered I need to trim down my interests and pay attention to what I’m good at. This means writing instead of music and art and Retail instead of Conservation work (which is a flooded job market round my area). I have multiple opportunities to volunteer in retail locally and I’ll be calling the charity Scope back in September when my little one goes back to school.

As for writing I have around 400 poems now, one of which won a prize a few years ago and I just need to collate and find a publisher. I also have 4 novels on the go which need finishing. I just need to apply effort and direction, something I’m very bad at.

Well here’s to a new start and getting on with it … fortunately the paranoia has faded and I’ve reintegrated with the real world somewhat, but I will not let my guard down again versus certain things.

There will be no next time.

Peace D

Bullet Bipolar Tales

I’m the shell shocked lover with a bullet ridden mind,

A labyrinthine tale of woe and highs you’ll ever find.

Don’t hold me tight in the night I may just explode,

Or fall to pieces slowly over the years I reaped then sowed.

So I don’t know if you can hear over this plane crash,

Maybe you shouldn’t hang around while I burn and flash.

I could say I love you but I’m not sure which voice said it,

I feel it coming again but you and me baby are a tight fit, will we split… Or fight these mindless demons and stick!

D August 2018

The day I found out that the MIBs weren’t real.

In fact it was an inside job, the agent of darkness nothing but a pysop conspiracy theory. And now I know I have to fight this demon within with bare words merely.

A loud voice, a quiet whisper to destabilise my train of thought, try to redirect who and what I fought.

But I know you now, I know your Hows, and I will never forget you and how you tried to force me to bow.

You hold a broken chalice and stand naked in your sin, you didn’t know this is a trail I’ve already been.

So my madness ends and yours just begins, see you soon on the flip side where no doubt your still be trying to win, a game that was never played….

D August 2018

How can?

How can I tell you that there is no further you can break my heart, all the quips, cold shoulder statements, dismissals all added to tear my insides apart.

How can I tell you that this empty shell no longer cares, of the wounds you threaten to inflict or the scars you wish to bare.

How can I tell you now I’m stronger than ever, as a broken heart doesn’t last forever…

… You see during your fire storm forgot to take stock and see, and I know now all I need to survive; is me.

D July 2018