Tag Archives: Stress

Throw Me Away

Suicide…Let’s talk about it…..I must admit I’ve thought about it.

I feel sick, bubbling up with tears in a way I’ve never done at the mention of suicide. Today I remembered how in high school I was on the verge of doing so. How close?

I struggled with academia and comparisons with higher performing peers and siblings brought shame to my own efforts. Though I was never beaten for bad grades, the constant sniping was death by a thousand cuts. I wasn’t good enough, I’d be like such and such a person. If it wasn’t A+ they don’t want to hear about it, don’t mention creative stuff, that’s not going to get you anywhere. Don’t you dare disagree, or have an opinion that contrasts with another vision for you.  Walk like this, talk like that, hold your knife and fork this way, your lips moved – you must be being rude even though no sound was made. Your eyes moved this way, you’re supposed to be that way, stop being disrespectful. Dismiss it as nothing if you will.  For me, without validation from important adults, I was nothing.

I was bullied often and at different points, year in year out, from the beginning of primary school to the final years of high school. During break times playing basketball in high school, guys would actively shout “1000 points if you knock his glasses off or 10, 000 if you trip him over and get him to cry”.

There was one physical education session where I was playing football. I came in for some rough treatment as an outfield player and became the goalkeeper. Although I fared better in this position, the fouls got worse to the point where I blurted out that I just wanted to kill myself. They thought I was joking.

I had struggled with self-esteem issues (body etc) and all-around confidence. At this point, both were 6 feet under where I wanted to be. They had never accepted me for me. Nobody did. No matter what I did, being me wasn’t good enough for anyone. In my head, I mused whether school tie around a goal post or by other means away from there would do the job. How close did I get to it? close enough.

I fell ill and was out of school for over a week. When I returned, people told me that they thought I really had taken my life. They joked about me returning from the dead. I don’t know what stopped me from doing it. Maybe there was a fighter in me after all. I didn’t dare tell anyone how I really felt. Nobody would have listened anyway, not without making me feel worse than I already did. Dead rappers get lauded, there are no prizes for near misses.

Although I’ve thought about it in my adult life, I’ve been able to divert my intense thought patterns to a better place…just. Whilst I’ve been able to pour myself into writing in times when I had nobody to talk to, a creative outlet to channel destructive energy isn’t given to everyone.

I don’t want to be in a world where 9-year-old boys or anyone else feels like their life isn’t worth it. That hurts me to my soul. I hope that we create environments so that those who struggle can freely express their struggles, their pain. Talk to me, talk to someone.  Together we can change the puzzle so that more people feel like they fit into this world.

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Plodding

You’ll never know what you can bear until you fight with one.

Though I wasn’t bred that way I take a slice to know the light is on.

Been decked by my cards so I shuffle around the boat.

Drowning in the blue that the red mist lead me to.

Clutching pearls that swine gave me.

Scorched earth screaming green as new shoots.

Golden boots give tours of their shoe collections.

You’re only good as your answer to the last question.

The fable of favour requires faith to become a fact

I fight with enlightened beasts, it kills me where I’m at

Blind mice testifying of finding big cheeses releases of hope of planting my flag on the moon.

Everything I should have done has been festooned.

Everyone I should have been, marooned by who am I now.

I look up to look up though I’m down.

What now?

 

 

 

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5 / 30 Turn it down

chameleon

The chameleon.

Is born for rainbow dancing

Needs silence, sometimes

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Molehills and Mountains

truthSome truths are holier than an indian rape festival

Some truths are arresting but their freedom you can rest in

Some truths are homely when they don’t try to redecorate

Some truths are seedlings that sap you of your better state

I wish these truths were feather weight and would lift before I sign that paper

Wait

I want…

Truths that wrap round my hands like tape before a fight

Truths that change bulbs,

Truths that win matches

Truths that broken into meteoric starlight are my cookie that crumbles

Truths that are more beautiful than a Titanic Kate Winslet

Truths that are more than an engagement ring and make you alter

Truths that don’t slide around

Truths you can fall for, get up with and fall in love with again and again

Truths that make good friends

Truths that don’t break you to see if you can bend

Truths that don’t hide in drawers like old photos

Truths that in need, you can go to

Truths that get more agreement than Kyoto

Truths that make the magna carta look like a pinky promise

Truths with more meat than a 20 stone double J in a bodice

Truths with more between the eyes than a pair of nostrils

Truths in lossless formats that will never get played

Truths that are more than a night boo debut.

Truths that might silence you but wont shoot you down with a silencer

See these Home truths I keep dying for

Truth lives outside the law

Truth is the secret in the bible section

Truth is the power of inception that rewires a lie detector

Truth is my reflection when I choose to accept it and until then

Truth is an orphan

Truth can dance with you or around you.

Truth is not a tradition

If truth was religious it would be narcissus

I want truth that keeps you in check like King Midas face to face with Medusa

Truth whose screams in eternity ring and are happily answered too

Maybe that kind of truth isn’t you

See maybe truth is convenient, may be it’s seasonal

Maybe it’s roots ,branches and leaves that are watered by wars

Maybe we need lies to appease us until we find the peace that is us

A peace that pleases us in all pores and makes us richer

Maybe truth is greedy, maybe truth is grievous

Maybe to be truth is to find that we need to be us,

To be us, we need to see us

So maybe what we need is, not peace but reflection

A reflection that yields acceptance for its perfect imperfections

A voice that sets the tone with multiple inflections.

If truth is knowledge accepted and we render rejection can truth be changed at all?

If truth is changeable is this the deposition before urination?

Revolving doors wont get to seven when you’re in eight

So maybe this is the position before you’re in a shine

Giving evidence, overthrowing negatives

The truth is the truth is the picture, it’s us that aren’t getting it

The truth is that truth is an industry worth investing in.

I heard that truth is sexier than Norah Jones in silky pyjamas on a Q-Tip record

But….

Ttruth has a cost and as words are expensive….

What are yours worth?

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La La

Lost and alone

Dog with a bone

The reflection has shaken me

Stirring my mojo into a molotov

I burn with indecision

 

Happy moments stolen like penny sweets

What am I buying?

Finding fallacies in forever

Planning orchards, cursing thorns

Am I alive until the death of a rose?

 

Turbulence framed as trivial recruiting

Meteoric melancholia manifests

Poker handshakes and chess kisses

Clandestine hope in bloom resides

Indifference wrestling lasts another round

 

Lost and alone in deeper waters

The tide of good fortune is in

Chewing all that rests before me

Standing to ponder the scale of my win

 

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Shout Now!

shout now

 

I am now
I am what was, which became what is
The hypotenuse to a multitude of hypotheses
With confidence, my image is my identity
Solar panelled for my length of days
No more relying on karma
I’m calmer collecting time
My chapters are bound, I have arrived
It is my duty to exude purity and passion
A legacy that lasts long
Without it how else am I going to pass on a legacy that lasts long
I am more than a song
I am a catalogue worth more than platinum to be replayed
The seeds I am sewing will need no stitches
Watered by heavenly riches
I am what was promised
I live in promise
I live with promise
I live for the promises
My main meals are honesty and confidence
What is your fruit?
Is knowledge part of your 5 a day?
What is your addiction?
Superstition
If love is like making music
How does your rendition sound
Are you a prism or a prisoner?
How do you shine, now?

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Light A Candle

Image

They want my mete
Fried liver and cake
I got none so they take
clothes from my back and eat
Tis the one they make
I’m beat
My egg
Hard boiled refuses to crackkk
Sharks want my blood
My stake is under attack
I’m in the black
Cooked by the market
Well in the read
Just not rare enough for black
They see me so they saw me
Can’t slice me so they knife me
With legalities
The poor me pours me
Rich in spirit
Rum applauds me
Brandy brands me intoxicating
Yet they set the flame again
Stand still watching me burn
My brain turns
My two hands open to heaven
Shadrach Meshach and Abednego
My eye, the third
Looks for the fourth man
I am
Staring Nebuchadnezzar in the eye
Waiting for mine to dry because I
Am not at home in the fire
Acid tears spit from my soul
My cheeks corrode in desperation
My skeleton eats itself for inspiration
Love will find away
Blessings wiith my name
This is just a test
Wait and be patient
Are like cassettes to an Mp3 player
Sooth sayers could use sayings
To sooth the decaying
So often I feel too used to praying
Like God wants me to tell him
But I feel vain
Telling him the same again and again
Logic would call me insane
If faith was a straight jacket lock me away
Bills after bills and no money to pay
I write not sing so I don’t blow the roof away
I stay schemin and breathin
Running on steam
I’m boiling my dreams so I can drink the reality
Of Mortal combat
One hit fatality
Resurrect and gain clarity
All I want is parity
Charity I’m giving well
Hoping Karma does the same
Don’t feel me blow me
I just don’t want to sound vane
Feels like I moved mountains with my faith
To see quicksand again
Light and candle for my dark
My heart’s like ripped page to a flame
I pour vinegar in deep wounds so you can taste of my pain
Suffering violence in silence
Don’t mean my mode changed
I’ve just caught something dark without throwing shade

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