Fools rags

Our sanity is all the fucking fashion
gotta be the good one so they’ll listen
Don’t quite shift the status quo
and they might just leave you alone.

Our sanity is all the fashion
Must put on my best mask
mustn’t break, must learn to be a ducks back
Must be Sisyphus rolling that boulder there and back
forever and ever
musn’t fucking break.

Gotta be always fucking sane
be a good one to wipe the extremes away
because they only believe the headlines
that’s what they bring up in the head lights
when you shine them on their eyes

you try to argue your case
they twist your words
and squirm away
‘look at the headlines!’ they say

Because man bites dog is common in their eyes
they’ve seen it in black and white
they know more than you or I
it was in the fools rags
man bites dog, it happens everyday.



A freak: Warning lots of F words.

Don’t say you weren’t warned.


I’m a freak
A fucking freak
if only I could own it
I’m a freak
A fucking freak
A fucking pretender
an agitator
A fucking freak
trying to be normal
A fucking freak
Is that a bad thing?
I don’t know
I’m a fucking freak
But they call me a fucking sheep
I’m an alligator
A fucking agitator
A pretender
A fucking freak

I’m an accumulation of freakish things
A caricature of society
A reflection of mans insanity.

Earth

She existed only in the periphery of their vision. No one saw that in her was reflected truth. But maybe they had sensed it and that was why they never turned. She was a mirror, a fractured caricature of the society they tried to withhold.
They treated her presence like the absence of something long forgotten.
She was the earth and the bubble, the ecosystem that sustained them. Yet they dare not look.
The roads they paved both physically and metaphorically were scars upon her arms and wrists. And she bleeds away her sustainability while they continue to carve and crave more and more.
And while the Jays perch upon her oak crown and paint the forests, they cut them down. And sometimes she could forgive them, they were after all animals themselves. And some trees got put to good use but then they started to cut too much
And the land bared it’s bone.

Absence

The night was different shades of black with gold specs, and the moon was a silver goddess shining brightly onto the world when she left.
A fleeting love that died like the wilted roses of winter as snow blinkered all our colours in white.
The train came at 21:05, and that was that gone in a haze she was just a face staring back from a window with a tear writing sadness upon her cheek.
The snow of winter turned grey as it was muddied by the boots of people trudging their days away mindlessly while I noticed every little wish unfulfilled in the stars.
A plane shot through my vision, pointing as if it was going to the moon, a trail behind it that is poison in its own polluting way.
It occurred to me then that life itself was pollution, everything was spinning on this globe, and everything was interacting within it.
Yet we pulled ourselves outside of it with our distractions and words, but I know now it was only ever an illusion.
That we are the earth, as are the birds and the other beasts that share this world.
And the train shook on the tracks, our goodbyes said only in our staring eyes as the train rushed past, and I knew I’d never see her again.
yet she was still the earth as was I, even after the train tracks drew a divide between us
I didn’t yet know if that was comforting or all the more painful.
These goodbyes always feel like the end of the world, still, it turns, but somehow it doesn’t always help to remember that fact.
Our emotions never could stick to the notion of calendars and diary planners sometimes, an anniversary feels too quick in the heart and loss too long in the dark.
Neither of us waved, our eyes blinking through the sadness that words couldn’t express.
My eyes took a picture of her face in the window while it never left; it fades as the days go by, her absence getting more noticeable with every feature lost in the memory.
It seems to me absence is a lot like a cockroach
nothing can kill these beasts

Unsolicited opinions on medication.

Why is that when you’re on anti-depressants and you’re talking to someone about it, it’s so common for people to say,
‘I’m not a fan, but if you need them then take them.’

Why do they feel it necessary and important to let you know they’re not a fan? Would they do that for any other medication?

‘Oh you’re on a heart meds? I’m not a fan, but if you need to take them, take them.’

Imagine if someone said that?

Wouldn’t that be a stupid thing to say? ‘I’m not a fan’ not a fan? Of what? heart meds? that keep someone alive?


Yet no one blinks an eye when people say this about anti-depressants, in fact it seems to me it’s encouraged.

It never ends

I’m too small
to contain this
Shits about to blow
I tried to tell you this
but I fail to communicate
when all this shit accumulates
and each piece never goes away
so I’ll be stuck with this every day
and then more on top
It’s just the way
my brain is wired
Don’t know why
all these feelings that ebb and flow
they’re all painful
no respite
empty full
nothing and everything
I want a lobotomy
so tired
this is the trend
in my brain and it won’t end

PAIN

The pain accelerates
no stepping back, no brakes
heart and lungs deflate
no words can translate
this suffering and hate
it’s just inside
aggravate
agitate

I’ve had these wounds so long
They’re antiquated
so I keep it all bottled up
it’s the same old, same old
and I know what comes
The accusations are sung
‘You don’t wanna try’
‘you can’t let go’

I can’t let go
I don’t know
Any other feeling
but this gaping fucking hole
deep inside of me
the abyss swallowed me
long ago
there was never anything
that could be left of me
cause I was never ever whole