Poetry

I wear sky blue ear defenders to dull the threatening hum of the world.

They’re not perfect. They might cork the sharpness,

but they cannot smooth it.

And the times when I need their comfort most,

when the weight of voices, bodies, auras

tries to crush me and all I want is silence,

they become invisible. Strangers direct questions my way

as if they’re not even there. Comments

that need responses I’m too weary,

too flattened, to give.

I can still hear every word, and each one ties me with the cord of obligation

to reach for my social mask,

the one I thought I’d shed months ago.

I wear sky blue ear defenders to dull the threatening hum of the world.

They’re armour to protect me, but even armour

cannot save me from arrows.

Poetry

Wallpaper

We can wrap our bodies in as much decorative paper

as we like,

but still it will rip and tear

the more we leave it up for display.

Prodded, examined and manhandled

until it is mere tissue paper,

hanging limply from the weathered remains

of our original form,

so covered in dust and mildew

that we no longer know

who we were before we prettied

ourselves

to other people’s tastes.

Poetry

Drop your guard

When you stand before someone

exactly as you are,

no armour, no shield,

and still have the courage to look into their eyes –

you are strong.

You are raw, and you are real.

And when you let them do the same,

with no judgement,

understanding dawns for both of you.

You might be scared,

but opening chests that have long rusted shut

was never going to be easy.

All you can do is be the net

to catch each other

as your whole spills forth

and slips through your fingers.

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

Poetry

Monsters

In my mind after

it breaks down, the world

creeps up on me.

It’s a monster

in my head, sinking its nails in

until I bleed out.

 

Upside down,

I break through. Struggling for air

as I crash the surface,

tearing at the dark scales that cover my eyes.

 

I am a hunter, but also the hunted.

I am the monster.

I am the monster

of the world in my head.