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.

Awake I Lie

Awake I lie,

Thoughts racing,

Trouble brewing.

The uncertain future.

Perseverance to clear a path,

Draining my life through this troubled storm.

The turbulent seas,

Uncertain paths without any horizon.

Chatting a path through the darkness.

Left without a heading.

Attempt after attempt.

Storms keep bashing my direction into darkness.

Awake a lie,

Thinking of the troubles to come,

Looking for a heading.

Looking for an option.

For a way out.

All direction and certainty lost to the depths.

Lost to the darkness,

The horizon unseen.

Awake I lie,

Pondering these questions,

Without direction.

Without heading.

Looking into the darkness and uncertainty.

Taking a step at a time.

Without heading, without knowing.

Hoping, persevering, to find my way.

To find a path.

All, as I lie awake.

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

Forgetting The Day

The warm summer sun,

The glaring heat,

Scorching clean the earth to barren wastelands,

The waves of heat crossing, moving, gradually creeping across this landscape.

Moving onward,

People flock to see the spectacle,

The salty sea breeze,

The bright sun,

The glaring beach

A time out.

A time away.

A time, to forget the day.

Ever-Reminded

Ever-reminded,

The ongoing presence,

The waiting moment,

The missed opportunity.

The broken body,

The severed hopes,

Faulted mind.

Ever-reminded of the pain, the tendrils within my skin,

My blood freezing, through my bones.

The burning of my skin,

The piercing of my mind.

Ever reminded of the being,

The emptiness,

The existing,

The passing.

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.

Remembering The Times

Remembering the times,

Those good days,

Always a place in my mind.

The thinking, memories and the times.

Left in the feeling.

Of those good times.

The memories and places once been.

The memories and thoughts,

An ever-present reminder.

Living in the present,

Waiting for the times ahead,

Remembering those good times gone past.

A collection of memories,

A life, all on shown before me, of me.

A pleasant reminder,

Remembering the times.

Silent Peace

That silent peace,

The times gone cold,

The waiting for warmth,

Peaceful, yet empty.
Empty yet alone.
Waiting yet unsure.

In a state of limbo,
So cold,
Waiting… unsure.

Sitting in silence wanting meaning.
Looking for an escape.

Wanting productivity.

Having an aim.

All in the balance,

Waiting to be.

Here I am, waiting, in silent peace of what may be.
Waiting to be.
Continuing on as I mean to be.

Waiting in this silent peace.
For what I want to be.
I know the way,
I know what I must,
The path is closed off from me,
Left in silent peace.

The Lies They Tell

The lies they tell,

Those supposed friends,

Who shackle you to the knife,

Who throw you down, into the lies,

The bed of knives and suffering.

In your name, to spare you pain.

While exacerbating the problem to titanic proponents.

The lies they tell to misguide, trick, hurt, misdirect.

True friends are such. To cause pain.

A horrible truth, better than many amazing lies.

One is living the truth, the other a mirage that needs shedding.

The lies your ‘friends’ tell,

The pain they unknowingly cause,

Even when asked to spare me.

They hold the knife to my throat.

With the lies they tell.

How Stuff Plays Out

How stuff plays out,

The cold wind blowing,

Sending shivers past my face,

Like the story of time,

The star-speckled night sky,

The dark clouds that float past,

The night sky,

The hope for the sun to rise in the morning,

The time’s great changes,

To later reveal what cannot be seen in the present,

The new day to come,

The new times to come,

Looking up Into the night sky,

Reminded of the past,

Waiting for the new day to come.

Those bright times to come,

Maybe just around the corner.

Maybe just a little longer to wait.

Just waiting to see.

How stuff plays out.