Posts Tagged ‘mental health’

No my friend,
That is not what rock bottom is,
My soul dissents,
Rock bottom is not crying and screaming,
Not tearing down the walls,

Rock bottom is laying prone at night,
Thinking instead of sleeping,
A prison cell only we can see,

Rock bottom is staring stony-faced at work,
Into the face of a furious Karen,
And not hearing a single squawk,

Rock bottom is sitting in your underwear at 2am,
Stuffing your face full of treacle tart,
And not enjoying any of it,

Rock bottom is not aesthetically pleasing,
Not a work of art,
It is not convenient,
It is suffering,
It is purgatory.

Let me off,
My life has become this wheel,
I grow tired of this rotating farce,
Each and every rung is the same,
Cheap plastic and flimsy build,
Run round,
Run round,

The scenery never changes,
The same streets and bus routes,
The same grey skies and pained mornings,
Let me off this hamster wheel,
My rodent heart could burst,
Taken by the horror of the whole thing,
Chance would be a fine thing.

After trying these new sweets,
Compliments of the white coats,
I find my thoughts lying in a swamp,
Those little candies turn my mind to slop,
A marsh under kaleidoscopic skies,
But it’s for the best they say,
It’s for the best,
I sit in this swamp in my mind,
Unaffected by the brisk swill,
My eyes rolling in slow motion,
Rolling slightly to the sides,
A curious blur over my eyes like plastic,
I feel no remorse,
No misery,
Nothing,
But it’s for the best.

I do wonder,
What plays in the head of a dead man?
As all warmth finally fades,
What regretful dirge,
What orchestral round of applause,
A decapitation by piano strings,
A bowstring run across the jugular,
It’s all static cremating your brain,

The reaper hums a gloomy tone in your ear,
It’s an aural kill-switch,
As the lights finally bleed out,
Will it be an elegy for a lifes mediocrity?
Or a celebratory crescendo?
Either way it will be your final song,
And there shall be no celebration,
Only the void.

And lo,
I find myself upon an iceberg,
Naked and secluded,
I checked myself into this purgatory,
Rapport and society are distant pirate coves,
The choppy seas are a chorus of mockery,
And it adores my laments,

This spit of ice,
Cut by the orca teeth of the past,
It’s a prison as well as a tomb,
A torture device of my own making,
I’m a seal lost to the world,
Sat in my own miserable fat,
And here I shall remain,

Until those poles begin to thaw.

The mirror lies,
I swear it,
It’s very sheen rippling with deceit,
Or perhaps malice,
It insults me with that foul image,
A reflection of some miscreation,
Is that who I am?
That creature,
Are those my eyes?
Those unfeeling oculi,
But I foolishly believed myself a man,
A higher primate,
A lie like a million glass shards,
Bad luck for a lifetime,
Denying my own monstrosity,
A crisis of the very self,
Carrying oneself as a somebody,
While being a nothing of a ghoul.

Hope,
It’s said to shine,
To glitter in luminescent butterflies,
Shades of all prisms,
It’s a currency we spend to continue our days,
A penny a day keeps despair at bay,

Hope,
It’s said to glimmer,
A diamond in your minds eye,
A beacon in the black,
The light at the end of a morose tunnel,
A reason to tread through another day,

Of course ofttimes it’s just a cheap bulb,
A train at the end of that tunnel,
Or perhaps it’s a marksman’s scope,
A trick of the sun,
Hope and optimism are manmade farces,
Reality is rarely so idyllic.


Some of us escape society,
Canines of every shade and shape,
Runaway hounds and beasts,
Shredding our way out of vanilla cages,
Longing to run with more wild packs,
Individuals with no collars,

We’re bad dogs,
Authority wants us on a leash,
Normality reaches out with nets,
But we tore off those fingers,
And ran free,
Slavering and howling,

Daily life becoming wildlife,
Dodging slings and dog whistles,
Animal control in public form,
We follow sweet scents of unrestraint,
Tonight we are not docile pets,
But wolves on the run.

An unknown contagion afflicts me,
Interests no longer interest me,
Voids are appearing in my brain,
Areas of interest fading to nothing,
Neurons stashing away my will,
Like my own brain in open rebellion,
Lining up my blindfolded diversions,
Against a blood-strewn wall,
And snuffing them out one by one,
The inside of my skull,
I don’t recognise it,
It’s a wasteland,
The voids spread,
Making me a hollow man,
I begin to consider surrender,
Too far gone.

I am a broken jaw,
A smashed nose,
I am a fetid wound,
An injury of a being,
I require correction,
Surgery of the self,
Something has gone wrong,
An unknown contagion has rendered me inhuman,

Put me under,
Gas to kill the monster,
These doctors in their gory aprons,
They will fix my inhumanity,
Scalpels to the various pieces of my soul,
Incisions and psychiatry,
When next my eyes reflect light,
Will I awaken as a man?