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.

The Path

The path, journey,

The ups and downs,

And on it goes, through this path,

A on-going gradual path,

Into the sunlight,

Into night.

Into life.

The path walked,

Many times, and never simultaneously.

The times shared, the sun felt.

The sound of the guitar in the backdrop.

The sun setting on the horizon,

To be followed by night, then day.

The ongoing times, of sun and bright feelings.

The need to remember, the need to hold on.

An emotional rollercoaster,

Of ecstasy and emptiness.

The times gone through.

The experiences felt.

The sun shining down on the ground.

On the warm face,

The light.

The happiness and sadness.

Both at one.

Together in feeling.

Both making us human.

This is the ongoing path.

The confusion and doubt, with the aftertaste of faith.

The need for meaning,

The meaning behind being.

The grace of living, loving, being and making use of the finite time.

The time to be spent,

Loved,

Lived.

That path taken. That path of life.

The path we all walk.

The path.
Written reflecting on the book ‘Stoner’ by John Williams

My Affliction.

Memory of what should be let go.

Hearing that mustn’t be heard.

Senses heightened, for what shouldn’t be known.

To let myself live, in the present. At all.

The affliction of knowing, when one should ignore.

Caring too much as I need to break out.

Break my chains, my mind and spirit.

Break apart all that is held together.

Broken and shattered through my affliction.

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.

Just Want To Forget.

Just want to forget,

To erase my mind,

To go on living,

As I try to make something of myself,

Get myself out of the dark ocean.

To set sail out into my world of my own.

To forget the darkness of the past,

The times to be forgotten.

To make my escape.

To start anew,

My new self, a new life.

The end of me.

Just wanting to forget, so I can escape.

Just want to forget.

Reminder Of Me

A reminder of me,

Who I used to be,

Free eternal, unbound and unchained.

Free-thinking, a spirit in good health.

Loving life for the friends who’ve touched me,

Those who unknowingly saved me.

To those I would do the same.

To save, to walk the ends of the earth for,

Those kind few, who reminded me of me,

Me of who I was,

Me of the worth of living.

The escape from a horrid past,

The needless pain,

To those who confirmed,

Who backed,

Those who supported.

I hold you dear.

Dear to my soul.

Dear to my being.

Those who reminded me of who I am and who I need to be, should be, will be.

Those Tears Drying On My Face

Those tears drying on my hurting face.

The pained reminder.

The awkward smile.

The reality insufficient in mind.

A time of being, thinking and meaning.

Making up the mind through the tear-soaked face.

The smile beneath the crying face.

Knowing you are there but really aren’t.

Why am I not surprised.

It never changes.

This never changes.

The tears dry on my face,

Time and time again,

An indelible mark.

The collection of sorrows that mark my mind.

The collection of times, always on my mind.

Waiting,

Longing.

A character, alone,

Walking empty through life.

As those tears dry on my face.

Walking Through Those Familiar Places

Walking through those familiar places,

Old, calm and at peace.

With nothing to do.

Alone and empty.

An empty person in this empty world.

Nature in my gaze.

It’s mere existence without realisation,

Without reason, without knowing.

Walking in familiar the memories and mirages.

Flashes of a time once been,

The sun once shone.

A shadow once placed.

All left, and passing, when walking through those familiar places.

Realisation

Realisation, of that reality.

The difficulty and strife,

The oncoming differences,

The hopes dashed before mature,

The toil and strain for nought.

The desperation seen in a little glass.

The demon seen within the mirror.

The uncertainty, stress and strife.

A reminder of that blank page,

That unwritten meaning.

The confused existence

And spinning endless.

This realisation, hit like a rock,

Lingering, throbbing, an ever-subtle reminder.

Ever going pain.

The realisation of reality.

It’s painful mark left upon my skin.

The realisation, of

The toil and strife all for a page gone blank.