through clouds I found a nightmare
threw lightning rods at myself
though I admit I had some doubts of self harm
I’ve never truly understood my wealth
too shy to face the mirror and smile
true feelings were discarded on to a pile
though I admit I had days of self belief
that were so few and far between
I rose up and pulled myself through another year
so full of self loathing and endless despair
I poured myself the longest of drinks
then some more without a straw or ice
I drowned myself out in to the whirlpool of disbelief
not knowing if I would reach the forbidden shore of tomorrow
I was a walking mumbling barrel of explosive poison
committing errors in endless circles of routine
my Destiny was mapped out by the voices in my head
the only goal was to think to be better of dead
the murmurs insisted that I fall from the clouds
hitting the ground broken by glass alarming sound
hot headed stubbornness blinded my way
I was a dead horse walking and limping away
I heard the butcher’s knife sharpen I saw hell
until I realised I was leading myself to the well
at a crossroads in a featureless landscape
one foot wrong could be a costly mistake
left turn could lead me to water and rejuvenation
ahead the potholes and certain annihilation
confused with my destiny unease in my loins
raw tissue bleeding cutting myself to the bone
don’t see a reason why but the truth is unknown
the fear of living a life or the pleasure of being alone
keeping clear of the dubious puddle uncertain of it’s depth
staying clear of pretty pills and holding my breath
not trusting therapy or any type of rehabilitation
seizing the blood clots so to clone a new generation
searching for the answers between the d and the a
flushing out some poison that was green with ivy
the pressure drops as I sway in the summer heat
the scorn of the medics as I devour another plate of meat
reaching the end the choice if now life or death
should I stay around or exhale my last breath
all the fingers are pointing faces with dismay
maybe I’ve arrived finally at my end of days
if there is art in my feelings and hope in my heart
maybe it would be best to surrender make a new start
caress the words and phrases that have been kind to me
studying the art of healing while preaching my poetry

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