My poems

melatonin

Jedi Master
I often do poetry as a way of coping. (As a survivor of child abuse with CPTSD - so they are usually very dark)
Havent done any in a long while, and deleted all the stuff i had.

This is one i did recently:-


It’s the edge that’s so painful.
Peering over, looking at what I’ll never be or everything I have been.
The one location I can view my pain and lifelong unmet wishes all from one place.
It’s that place, in between acceptance and rejection.... love and hate, where the pain is strongest.
It exposes me for never being enough. It’s a reminder of what none existence feels like.
Some say there’s nothing worse than never having expectations or dreams.
That’s when I’m reminded that I wish there wasn’t such a thing, and the dark abyss feels so much more comforting than a safe loving cuddle.
If only the edge didn’t exist.
 
"Our Bubble".


We created a bubble.
It surrounded us, keeping out the cold winds.
Inside the world was so much different.
There was nothing but warmth and love.
No famine, no war.


The bubble was so strong.
I took the bubble for granted.
Then I didn't even realise it was there.
Our love grew stronger and deeper,
Nothing in the past was remembered.


Then one day I woke to a cold breeze.
I looked around and everything felt different.
The bubble had broke.
I searched for explanations,
And you weren't there to help me.


As time went on the hole became bigger,
And you never did return.
Finally I realised it was you who had burst the bubble.
From that moment the wind gushed in,
And a coldness filled my heart and mind.
The world was real again, but my life was empty.
 
"The healing Onion".


Peeling back that onion.
That -flicking-g onion.
Worst vegetable known to man.

The onion - It lied to me.
Made me believe in false stories about myself.
Who am i?
Come on onion - tell me you stupid vegetable?
Are you even organic? You bastard.

I thought i knew my enemies.
The cycle of pain comes around again.
New parts of a jigsaw.
What did you do with those missing pieces onion?
You bastard.
Now onion replaces the whole picture.

Onion can do what it wants.
I no longer know the difference between that and a carrot.

And it spirals around again.
More pain....more clarity? What the -flick- is the truth in my world?
Redefined again....by a -flicking-g onion.
This onion, this mighty onion.

Feeling brighter....perked up...even had a hot dog, with onion.
Then whoooooosh...... here comes that deeper layer again.
Swept off my feet....dropped my hot-dog.
Things arent what i thought...its all started again.

I -flicking-g hate onions.
 
Like a molecule floating through space.
Trying to find a planet to bump into.
Maybe I could grow into a plant, or something has legs and arms.

Trying to catch up with the outer reaches of the universe as it speeds away.
Maybe on one planet I will belong. Maybe I could be part of a ring around Saturn.

Like the quantam theory....who can tell if the molecule ever existed if theres nobody to see it fly off into enternity.
If theres no human to show warmth or love, its just part of that never ending darkness.
And the physics professor gets out his equipment...nothing is detected.

And so I carry on pretending to be something more than a bunch of atoms.
Searching for meaning and belonging as solar systems drift by me outside of my grasp.
The pain of being so alive and feeling so alone.
 
Sinking.



In the end, you made it easy.
You left me with nothing.
Nothing but resentment,
and a reminder of why I am the person I am.

Just another experience between two humans,
to be forever forgotten.
As memorable as 2 pigeons pecking on bread,
Or a dog crapping on the pavement.
To be cast aside by time forever as no more meaningful.

How I twisted everything in my mind, all that time.
Distorted it and moulded it.
Thankyou for the illusion while it lasted.

Thanks for the shot of morphine.
And as the pain comes back,
I'm hit yet again with the reality of my life.

I'm the beast, and you were the beauty.
I helped you see your worth,
And you cast me aside to let me face my pain.

I take a final look at the mirror,
And that unloveable monster looks straight back at me.

Thanks for your love.
Its now been handed back to its rightful owner.
 
As the sun moves across the horizon.
It’s the last time it will shine it’s light on me.

A figure below chases the shadow,
Trying to hold onto those times we had together.
The darkness creeps around the corner,
Bringing with it the fear of solitude and a cold breeze.

I run towards the water, the sand getting deeper and thicker,
Desperately struggling to stay under that sunlight, as it reflects off the water.
My feet get stuck in the sand,
I land headfirst, knocking myself out.

In my dreamland, your still there,
Holding me tight.
"Give me your love.... take away my pain"
"Please don’t go"
"Don’t leave me here alone"
"Please"

I wake up.... staring up the moon.
Those craters are there to stay.

I’m lost forever in the darkness you left behind.
 
The invisible fist.

===========

It was a great feat for mankind to hide the deadliest of sins.
And yet one of the worlds most poorest minions,
Scruffy and mentally incomplete,
was alive to tell the tale.

What does none-existence feel like, someone once asked?
He knew the answer quite clearly,
Not that there was anyone to listen.

You see, the life of a thing that can neither be seen or heard is a strange one.
Not outside of life, but inside, screaming loudly.

Like a fish trapped in a net that nobody bothers eating.
If only that fishy creature had been born without googly eyes.
Forever to be left thrashing about on the dry floor.

Sentenced to being alive forever, and to being dead inside for at least as long.
 
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