To Those Who Try To Help

To those who try to help,

Those who continue to believe in me.

I’m sorry.

The path I take, I try to make.

The doors closing on me,

A lost cause.

A hopeless mess,

When I’ve come so far.

All thrown back into my face.

As I try to make my way.

The path I try to plot, to escape the darkness of uncertainty.

I’m sorry.

The path is lost,

The bearings lost too.

Left adrift.

Left losing the will.

Left with loss,

Loss of all, of mind, will and soul.

To those who try to help,

My gratitude is yours,

But I am left adrift at sea,

Drowning in uncertainty.

Without a place to turn.

The mind cannibalising itself,

Worries manifesting,

Uncertainty growing.

I’m sorry.

To all those who try to help.

I’m lost.

And I’m sorry.

Left Alone

Left alone,

That’s how it goes,

First to start,

Last to stop.

Left alone and predicted this,

That’s the way it goes.

The inevitable end.

The continuous path,

Expected and to be expected.

Left down, like a person with nothing left.

And loving it.

The rage and realisation.

The life and the longing.

The buildup and expectations.

The waiting and expectation.

Going on alone, as I know I must go.

The ongoing movement through time.

This onward treading.

The way it goes, and the way it must.

Ready for the shit that comes, as it always will.

No me gusta.

But that is life, the one I live.

The one I’ve been given.

The one I have and have to make.

The way I live, the way I go.

The good turning chaotic,

The way going blank.

The path turning off.

The way fading to black.

Living in the darkness and making it my own.

Owning the life that I lead.

Holding on tight to the war inside my mind.

Facing my firing squad.

Smiling in the face of it all,

In the face of the darkness and the pain.

Spitting in the face of death and darkness.

Making it mine,

Commanding it to my will and presence.

My will, it will become mine.

The path I must take,

Alone and smile.

The lonely road I walk.

To spit in the face of it all.

To face my fate,

To face my demons.

Spit in the face of it all.

The sinner of the world,

Of the darkness and the pain.

The path I walk.

The way I move.

The way I drift back and forth,

Drift off into the darkness,

Into my life eternal,

The eternal pain, ongoing and suffering.

To walk on and out,

Off into darkness.

On and off I go,

Moving on into the night.

Into the life that awaits.

This darkness I delve into,

Fight,

Rage,

Win.

Taking the pain,

Making it my own,

Making it mine.

Holding on in and through the rage.

Loving it with life as my witness.

Cutting the chord.

Stringing myself up in this life.

Loving ever second.

This rage and love,

Happiness and courage.

Weakness and strength.

Left alone, waking to my destination. The noose of the depths of the ocean.

And on I continue, left alone to my inevitable path.

Worried at the Crossroad

Been worrying all day today, all day yesterday when not hanging out with my closest friend.
I’m stepping to the crossroads, total uncertainty and now a lot of time to comprehend the step into darkness. With nothing for certain and feeling alone. Totally alone. No matter what friends or family say to me.

Alcohol is a distraction, not a good one, I still see my procrastination, but feel paralysed by uncertainty, loneliness and fear. I focus on doing small tasks like washing just to feel calm or sane. Can’t wait to get back to work, to distract myself. I can’t do both.

My laptop not working is also stressing me out as I can’t get to job searching or applications and feel paralysed by mood and actuality alike.

Always panicking, not able to cope, always looking for distraction. I knew I would hate this degree. For giving me uncertainty and time to worry about that uncertainty. Something I couldn’t afford to before my last assessment.

Now I’m left drifting alone, in the sea of uncertainty. Fearful, alone and afraid.

Personality Disorder Test

I’ve known for a while I must have a personality Disorder of some kind.

I may get depressed, but that’s a symptom, of how I feel, think, see the world, fear, react to people, interpret, value and be.

I know this isn’t diagnostic, but was wondering, the highest is what I’ve suspected for a while. It captures what I feel, think, fear and act. The characteristics cause me the pain and are always the cause of the pain. Found it on accident when I was low and thinking about my patterns of thinking and was the first thing to come up on google, Mind’s website on it.

Disorder Result
ParanoidPersonality High
SchizoidPersonality Low
SchizotypalPersonality High
AntisocialPersonality Moderate
BorderlinePersonality Very High
HistrionicPersonality Moderate
NarcissisticPersonality Low
AvoidantPersonality High
DependentPersonality Very High
Obsessive-CompulsivePersonality High
Take the Personality Disorder Test
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Notes from a damned soul

Songs remind me of you, waiting till midnight for your potential call, knowing it won’t come tonight as you’re busy with him. But I wait up anyway. In vain.

You keep wanting me to come hang out, do you see it kills me every time? Do you care? Or are you merely using me?

Clawing me back, even as I need to escape. It’s my fault, I could always avoid you, but never do.

How can you not know it kills me.

You saw what it did to me before, the scars, only the ones that show. What is inside is worse. That night you said hurtful things, tore me apart, from the very core, the accusations and faulting of every aspect of mine I hold dear.

You even mentioned knowing how we had to stop talking and understood why. Clearly not, it kills me inside now as before.

How can you not see?

How can you continue my torture.

You continue my torture.

Yet I keep walking into it willingly.

It’s my fault but that doesn’t change the fact it kills me and you watch. You help me do it. Encourage me towards my end to come. My looking forward to nothing but the end, an escape from the pain, from my reality.

How can you do this?

Why?

You saw what it did to me.

Honestly, I regret we started talking again. Some of these times recently have been the best, but also the worst. That’s the hardest thing, saying goodbye to escape from the pain, from the darkness, from my torture. Is also saying goodbye to all the good times, in truth, the lies and disillusionment. But nevertheless they make things I am doing in life feel like they are worth something, mean something, give me enthusiasm for more.

I need to break out.

Need to make a change.

Need to escape you,

Escape my torture one way or another.

But I am left with one question I can’t answer.

Why do you encourage my pain, my torture?

Bringing up the guy, other guys, “hot” guys on tinder. I don’t want you to lie, but at least be truthful, and let me go as I need to.

Let me go as I need to.

That Time

That time,

That time you called me,
I was busy, but made time.
Everyone else at the party, looking, wondering.
I made time,
You were alone,
You were stressed and hurting.
I made time, that time.

Many other times.

Now I am next to you and you leave me, ignore me.
Feel like an extra part.
I know I’ve been used. Know I’m the extra part.

But know that one time.
I felt something.
Maybe it was just me, and it wasn’t there.

You’ve left me.
When I was always there for you.

That other time,
You upset,
I on the phone,
Just walked home,
You called drunk,
Upset,
Alone.
Not wanting to drink alone.
I changed and walked back,
We laughed, we sang, we joked, and played around
I was there.
You weren’t.
Those messages, snapchats and statuses,
About me,
To make another jealous.

I pretended not to notice.
I pretended it was fine,
Still do
Not mentioned it.
Not to hurt you.
Not to be hurt by you.
I cared,
That other time.
You used me.

Bursting to tears now.
In public,
Next to you,
As you still continue to use me.
Still continue to have me as an extra part.

I cared.
I care.
I hurt.
That time.

Letter to my crush

I try to let you go, you drag me back.

You make me jealous with the guy you like, but drag me along whenever you two are together.

You use me to make him jealous when he’s not giving you attention.

You blame me for things, but use me to confide, to make you feel better.

It pains me knowing nothing I do can make you feel better, pains me that you like someone else. I am happy if you are, all the best, but please let me go so I may be happy.
You make me feel the best I’ve ever felt, but also the worst.

I’ve self harmed because of you, am depressed because, hurt because. But I always still care. Always am still there.

I give you the attention you want, but I’m not the person you want. I know that. I still hope. I still care. I still hurt. I would rather go on hurting rather than leave you hurting.
My friends warn me to leave, tell me to go, and have done since I met you, yet I haven’t. Those times I nearly get away you drag me back. And I willingly walk. Like a dead-man to a guillotine. At least the guillotine offers an end. Not like what I have.
This is all still worth it for you, to make you feel better, but I know you won’t. Hope you’ll care for me, but I know you won’t. Know you lie to me, but I ignore this.
It all hurts, yet I still stay. I do not know why. I don’t want to, but I also do. But I know I shouldn’t.
How can someone hold someone close to the flame and watch them writhe in agony, just for their own pleasure. Why? I don’t know. I would continue for you and I don’t even know why.
It pains me to see you hurt. I would happily end my life, to guarantee you a better one.

I hope you would find out how worth it you are. How I care. Always care. Always will be there. Unless I find my escape.

A Goodbye I don’t Know How to Say

Goodbyes,
So hard to say,
To put a world and mind into words,
To say you have to go.

Can words every put your mind into theirs?

Can the feelings be truly shared?

Goodbyes are hard to say,
Even when they’re the easiest.

Goodbye, my dear friend.
The one I care for,
One I care about.

You said you missed me,
Not to lose touch.

You said you understood,
But you don’t. Through no fault of your own.

I am sorry,
Goodbyes are hard to say,
I do not know how to say it.
If to say it.

The torture I go through,
Goodbye needs to be said.

But it isn’t that simple.

You make me the happiest I have ever been,
But also the most sad and hurt.

I never want to hurt you.
So should I hurt you, to make the goodbye easier?

Should I stop contact?
Be a person who was just once a memory,
Good or bad,
But lost to time,
to circumstance.

Goodbyes are hard.
How to put them into words.

How to explain that you’d understand.

I never wanted to hurt you,
I care for you,
But it kills me,
Like you’ll never know.

But what’s worse than it killing me,
Is to know I’m hurting you.

That is why.

The mere reason.

I have not said goodbye.
Do not want to, even though I do.

The feelings I’ll sorely miss,
The feeling of living,
The feeling of being.

All I can hope for from this goodbye,
Is not to be left with feeling,
But to have the pain taken away.

Goodbyes are hard.

This is…

A goodbye I don’t know how to say.

Life and Poetry

Just a small blog, contemplating poetry how I see it, how I write it, how it adds to me and how I add to it.

It is a process heavily influenced by life, and it influences my life, an outlet for all sorts of feelings, an immortalisation of feelings. Commemoration of feelings.

I find myself writing poetry regularly, as things do occur in my life and it is a great way to reflect, a great way to think, a great way to relax and ponder, a creative process that is welcome with the stresses of life.

I find myself in a situation, good, bad or any combination or other circumstance, and if I feel the need, poetry offers reflection, offers a crucial and also a link. This link between life, experiences and creative expression through poetry I cannot even comprehend.

Just a small blog about the influence of poetry on my life, how it works for me, I would love to hear anyone else on their experiences of poetry on their life.

It is amazing, it is complex, it is interesting, the formulation of ideas from experiences, the construction of expression along with the inherent biases and cumulative experiences onto a creative form.

A form that can also help others, relate to others, form connections with others and provide another level of fulfillment to my life.

Trying to Forge Protections Among the Storm

Trying to forge protections among the storm.

My crush, the person I’ve loved since November 2015. Knew they liked someone else a while back, we stopped talking, we’ve talking recently since March. My feelings grew again, despite my trying to kill them, having tried to kill them before. Had a picnic with her and the guy.

They both are close, I am not against that. I just cannot go on like this. Even before we started talking I thought we needed to be separated further and I’ve seen her almost every day since March, even late night calls, many, if not all of my recent poems are about her, thinking of her, or about me thinking of her. The poems that started this blog were of her too.

I know we’ll need to drift apart, have been waiting, not wanting, but knowing it’ll be needed. It’s her birthday this Wednesday. Will wait till then and have to cut contact. I don’t want to hurt her on a day of celebrations.

Don’t want to, I have no bad feelings, it’ll end on better terms this time than before I think. I cannot continue. The pain, the mirage of feelings, the inspiration to my poem Mirage.

I talk about the hierarchy of lies, that you cannot tell, between real and truth, between one lie and another. Looking at all the details for hints she cares, looking for hints of anything going on, hints to see if it’s getting bad. Lies to say it’s amazing (I say ‘lies’, but I cannot tell them from truth anymore).

There is no truth, only a web of lies that I pull to convince myself I can make the next day, a day at a time. Not going to lie, it’s my state of mind now, I have been better recently, but better because of the ‘lie’ I probably am telling myself, but living like this, it’s like dragging yourself through a sea of razors, it all hurts and there is no point, but you do so as that’s what you know, that’s what others want to see (you being okay).

But. As always. I shall keep dragging myself through that sea until I can’t go no more.

 

This is what I got my crush for a present. Fox Necklace, the reasons behind the fox? We met and she was doing an animation about a fox, and I still remember the animations, what it looked like, the times chatting. I got her a fox present, some small notebooks and stuff that I saw over Christmas 2015 and reminded me of her, and been meaning to get her something like this since April 2016, but we had lost contact by then.