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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

Serenity

Serenity in the eyes of a blue angel,

so long we have been singing this ancient fable.

Quick now feel my heart beat for you, in sync, don’t sink…

born to hold you…/upright and launch us to the sky,

high fly, we’ll never die, bullet proof aura of pink.

Green thunder rolls off over blue grass and violet roots,

we’ve turned this world upside down, stand at mountain foots,

leap up the crags to prove I’m here for you,

just exist is all I ask you do.

Look at me again with blue serenity,

love me for all eternity. My dear serenity.

D August 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

Easy Targets

They pick us off like sitting ducks,

Thinking were the spies for the dark.

But we roar, tear and bark.

Kill me once, kill me twice or even thrice, shred my skin and bare my bone.

But even the the hang man closed his eyes on his own. Then we all wonder if were ever wake again. Roll the dice, tricks up and try and pretend your sane.

You know what to expect, but maybe that easy target wanted to be hit. A brazen shout, to state is that the best you’ve got?

Is it, is this it … Who gets the victory lap?

D May 2018

The Split Mind

So in my head are two worlds, the everyday consensus that avoids the swirls of the madness of the other universe.

I don’t remember when it happened, this split, between what you say is real and what you say is perverse.

Maybe it was always this way, just no one noticed it until I started pointing the insanity in your world, the bombs, the guns, the stimulated torture as entertainment from Hollywood.

I know I go to dark places in my head but you cannot say that everything in your world is shiny and good.

So I live the schism, a dual belief system and only one of which is for my benefit. I think in all though the fuse has been lit… And there’s no going back.

D May 2018