Poetry

Hubbub

Hubbub.

Who’s listening?

 

Chatter, natter, prattle

Prat.

 

Screens in our face, over our eyes

in our minds.

Siding with popular opinion,

shying away from engaging that hungry engine, the brain.

Work them, encourage them

steam-powered as they may be.

 

Quiet, I crave.

 

No, they sing.

We need the noise, need the buzz,

need the bright lights and sweat and alcohol

and neon screens

to feel normal.

 

Normal?

What is normal

but a falsity of who you are

trying to resemble

the falsehood of others.

 

Hubbub.

Who’s listening?

Chatter, natter, prattle

Prat.

 

Quiet, I crave.

Independent thinking, I urge.

Eccecentric. Weird. Outcast, they sing.

 

Poetry

The Meaning Will Present Itself

Okay, okay

I’m here now, present.

No, not a present for you.

A present for me. For myself

to accept

and hold out to the world.

 

I have lowered my shield.

I am tired of raising it; my arms are weary.

I don’t want to be touched, or cuddled, or kissed –

until I do.

And if I do,

know that it is because you

are one of the few I love,

one of the few

I can suit up with

and ride beside into battle.

 

I will not stand beside anyone who seeks to leech me,

who leans on me

without ever letting me lean on them.

I favour balance,

I favour truth,

I favour trust.

 

No apologies will be made

if you seek to unmask me

and are devastated by the results.

 

I am here. I am present.

I am my truest self.

Poetry

Me; you

I want you to see me

I want you to see me in all of my forms

 

when I’m ecstatic

and can’t stop grinning no matter how serious everyone else is

 

when I’m in a rage

and want to break things to vent my fuming energy

but usually end up silently cursing because I’m at work

 

when I’m overwhelmed

by everything and shut down inside

losing interest in just about everything until my energy returns

 

when I’m so excited

by something that you hear every detail six

times over and begin to get a little excited yourself,

even though you have no personal interest in what it is

 

I want you to see me

when I understand

 

I want you to see me

when I don’t

 

I want you to see me

without the act

without the walls

without the white lies that say I’m okay

even as I’m falling away inside.

 

I want you to see

me