The Derelict

The first thing you notice are his bare feet,
Black and dirty.
Lacking a chair, he squats.
Lacking a home, he squats.
The second thing you notice are his eyes,
Sunken and hollow.
Desperate.
You walk.
He sees you seeing him.
You walk faster.
He smiles wide.
His teeth are as broken as the dwelling he guards.
Shattered windows for a shattered soul.
He calls out.
You walk faster still.
His sunken eyes suddenly grow sharp.
He recognises an opportunity.
You wear things of value.
You are something of value.
A second voice joins the first,
And then a third.
They point.
They chuckle.
They stand.
Your wealth represents their high.
Your body represents their high.
You run.

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Two Leaves

Two leaves float down a river,
Pulled by the current of life.
Sometimes they take the same path,
Sometimes the river splits them up.

Yet even when apart,
They travel together.
Because all paths lead to the source,
Still, each journey may vary.

Where one leaf faces rocks and rapids,
The other leaf faces calm tranquillity.
Where one leaf feels the warmth of the sun,
The other leaf is beaten by rain.

At times, all leaves get stuck,
Blocked by debris or caught on a bank.
Or pulled under the surface and trapped.
At these times the leaves must wait.

Wait for another to knock it free.
Or for the flow to clear the way.
Or for the slow push of time itself,
To gently alter the river’s shape.

Then the leaves will float once more,
This interruption quickly forgotten,
Because the destination is the same,
No matter which path it took.

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You can purchase a print of Two Leaves here

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Uttered

a casual comment
uttered by a stranger
felt better
than an entire childhood

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

What Truth

What truth
Do you hope to find
Scrying into oblivion?

This moment
Holds more depth
Than yesterday’s silence

To search
Is to destroy

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Want To See?

Want to see?
Want to see what it’s like to be me?
Held firm
By an internal decree
A child’s plea
Begging to be understood
Begging for should
Accepting what could be done
No fun
No sun
A fantasy discarded
Lambasted
Contrasted
Plastered by a bastard
Those memories lasted
Despite all effort
Resonating through time
A drunken crime
By human slime
Barely tame
Internal shame
Contemplating blame
Dualistic probabilities
Hostilities causing liabilities
My capabilities prohibited
My disabilities exhibited
My responsibilities limited
Limitation
Commiseration
Cessation
Mental castration
Not to win
Just to fit in
To control sin
To begin again
With the chagrin of my skin
Dulled by gin
Lulled into a stupor
A survival trouper
With one mission
Granting admission
To the child within
The beguiled one
The half mild one
The defiled one
A wild one
Seeking a gun
For some momentary fun
For you, me, and everyone
Dark thoughts
A catalyst
An internal antagonist
But don’t worry
It’s just a story
A fiction
Momentary glory
A bestowment of a moment
A direct line
From a past in decline
I’m no longer prime
No longer mine
No
Please stop
Please don’t
Don’t stop?
He won’t stop
Never did
My words as memory
My words as curse
Painful flashback
Of a smack
A shack
Of blackness I can’t track
Down that path lies an abyss
Oh, so easy to dismiss
Focus on the kiss
Focus on the bliss
Just don’t reminisce
Else it’s just psychotherapy
Spoken lethargy
Pills as energy
Wills to pay the bills
Because didn’t you know the past kills?
But I’ll last
Today’s a contrast
A sky overcast
A rainbow diet, a fast
Focus on the good
Focus on the wow
Focus on the now
Problem is, 
I don’t know how
Thoughts like locusts
Focused moments
Total destruction
Mental construction
Limited production
But that’s the point right?
Act tight
Think light
Avoid the night
Focus on the might
And get functional
Make my presence stomach-able
I’ll fit in
After social conditioning
Personality change
To the acceptable range
Not to what I would have been
Not to what should have been seen
Just a benchmark to glean
A dependency to wean
Getting off, on getting off
Abstaining as control
Life’s toll
So droll
A new personality
A twisted mentality
Complete with an acceptable morality
Born of brutality
A beastly formality
A childhood totality
Obsessed reality
A focus compressed
To a past expressed
As present solidarity
To the commonality
A survivor’s modality
Truth is,
I’m not alone
There are many broken homes
Many similar pleas
Boys thinking they’re she’s
Girls dreaming of degrees
Only to freeze
Triggered by a sleaze
Just a look of displease
Is all it takes
To land us back on our knees
A war eternal
Repeated in a journal
Blaming the external
For pain internal
There is no end
A rumination of pain
A brain stain
A drain of focus
A struggle to attain
To abstain
Life’s a circle
A cycle to break
To break-free of
So, the question remains
Do you still want to know me?
Do you still want to see?
Or is this all just a fantasy?
A compassionate conspiracy
Or an unwitting enquiry
Just back out politely
That’s what I do
Dissociative mental crew
Dig deep
Mental leap
Back to the creep
Back to me feeling like sheep
Just another cheap reap
Just another statistical bleep
I weep
Hiding in sleep
Hiding in myself
With a cold disposition
To your inquisition
And sanitised a presentation
A social prohibition
A DSM condition
My worst symptom?
Oversharing admission
A granted commission
Disguised by a mission of ambition
To thrive
To survive
To stay alive
Ah,
Such lofty goals
How I can be so blithe?

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Why Does It Feel

Why does it feel like I’m all alone?
Like my house isn’t my home,
Like I’m running from the unknown?

Why does it feel like it shouldn’t be this way
Like my nerves are on display,
Like I’m living as prey?

Why does it feel like my mind’s full of trash?
Like my intentions are ash,
Like I’m hoarding my father’s stash?

Why does it feel like I’m under attack?
Like my actions lack,
Like I’m waiting for a smack?

Why does it feel like it will never end?
Like my words offend,
Like I’m expected to pretend?

Why does it feel like everyone is lying?
Like my dreams are dying,
Like I’m only supported when crying?

Why does it feel like these words aren’t enough
Like my life isn’t so rough,
Like I’m creating demons from fluff?

Why does it feel like I’m a total fraud?
Like my soul just wants you to applaud,
Like I’m fundamentally flawed?

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Upon Waking

what we had
together
was but a pleasant dream
real
only while asleep
yet merely
a phantasm
upon waking

your perfume
forgotten
a nightly fancy
turned nightmare
the stark morning light
now
smells grim
upon waking

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

With You

something
must be wrong
with you
how else
would you
see worth
in me

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

The God Of Gluttony

Grimy, gross, and greasy, 
The god of gluttony gesticulates gladly,
‘Eat me, enjoy me, immerse yourself in me.
For I am what you want.
For I am what you desire’.

Guilt and pleasure stand side by side, 
Beckoning you to consume more.

The delicious poison tempts, 
Tantalises, and teases your tastebuds. 
Tactically taunting,
Telling your tummy that it's almost time.

Quickly,
You take your first bite and think,
‘Meh it’s alright’.

But then it hits you, 
The cravings pull you in. 
The voice of reason says, 
‘No, never, no more, no way, not again!’ 

But you can’t stop. 
It’s already too late. 
It’s got you.
You're hooked,
Addicted,
Dependant, 
Strung out.

Your family and friends begin to fret.
With added fervour they furiously try to force
feed you fantastically fresh fruit. 
This attempt is frivolous, 
The fructose filled feast fails. 
You feign interest and say, 
‘Fair thee well’.

For your heart, mind, and soul will now, and forever be, a consumer. 
The fast food has you. 
It's yours and you’re its. 

An unholy matrimony,
A marriage of consumption,
And you don't want a divorce.
Till death do you part.

So, act now or forever hold your peace.

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

You Say

You say you love me,
But you don’t know me,
Not the full me,
Not every part of me,
Not as I really am.

You say I should open up,
That I should share,
That I should let you in,
Into my inner world,
Into my mind, my emotions, my everything.

You say you will accept me,
But that’s a lie,
You don’t know me,
Not all of me,
Not the parts you haven’t seen.

Do you know yourself well enough?
How will you react to me?
What will you do when I show you?
What will you think of my darkness?
My pain? My weaknesses? My desires?

No.
You only accept the parts you’ve seen.
Then you make assumptions,
Of yourself,
And of me.

That I’m not that bad,
That there isn’t much more,
That embarrassment holds me back,
That you can save me,
And that you would want to.

It is safer to hide,
To show a just little,
Just the parts that are acceptable,
The parts I have practiced,
The parts that work.

You don’t love me,
You just love those parts,
You just love the surface,
Your love hasn’t touched the depths,
It never will.

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

I'm 'Fine'

I’m fine …
Actually, I'm really struggling.
I feel anxious and depressed.
My head hurts.
I'm so tired.
I can't hold down a job.
It feels like my life is slowly falling apart.
I'm not lazy, I am sick.
I know I look normal.
No, I can't prove this to you.
My illness is invisible.
Yes, I have good days,
No that does not mean that I'm faking the bad ones.
I'm not looking for attention.
I'm still learning my limitations.
I see the glances, hear the comments and feel shamed.
I didn’t ask for this and I don’t deserve this.
Yet here I am, and I am certainly not
‘Fine’.

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

The (un)Happy Family

***Trigger Warning***

Sure we seem normal from the outside,
But look closer and you will see,
The crevasses and cracks appearing,
In this happy family.

Daddy’s upright and professional,
Leaving for work early each day,
Except he’s banging his manager,
Yep, he is a closeted gay.

It started out as an extortion attempt,
The boss abusing his position,
Until Dad realised he enjoyed it,
Now he’s happy to be in submission.

It’s led to promotions,
And a new corner workspace,
Now he’s grooming his secretary,
Putting him in the same place.

Then there’s my little sister,
As cute as a button,
But on her first day of school,
She was taken as mutton.

Her teacher said she was naughty,
She was to stay back after class,
Told her to write lines,
But it was all just a farce.

My sister God bless her,
Hasn’t told a soul,
She just cut up her arms,
And eats to fill the hole.

My brother is nice and polite,
He always smiles appropriately.
But when left alone,
He acts demonstrably.

He is the reason why
Our cat passed away,
And why we no longer have
Our two dogs to play.

He wets the bed,
And lights garden fires
He once lost his mask,
And slashed some car tyres.

My big sister is devout,
Good grades, charity and service.
Because whether it’s in church or the floor,
On her knees she certainly isn’t nervous.

She almost got caught once,
In a locker room stall.
But her reputation as a saint,
Provided a deceptive shawl.

No she won’t go all the way,
She’s waiting for that special someone,
But that doesn’t stop her,
Giving all the boys some fun.

Now Mother’s a special case,
She keeps herself done up all nice,
Maintaining a pretty house,
And playing the good wife.

But when Dad’s at work,
And the kids are all out,
She downs some special pills,
And just lazes about.

She’s not happy with her life,
But isn’t sure why,
All she knows,
Is that she’s planning to die.

What about me you ask,
Have I faired any better?
Well I’ve learnt to keep myself hidden,
With silence as my fetter.

It’s better when I’m ignored,
And left to my own devices,
Because if I need them for anything,
I have to make some sacrifices.

Giving up my dinner,
Is much more preferred.
Than to be locked in my room,
With my screams overheard.

This is my happy family,
We keep to our own,
Never letting people in,
Learning to act the drone.

We don’t speak up,
No one could understand,
Nor could they do anything,
Cause they won’t see it first hand.

Dad’s never home,
And mum could be sober for a day,
My brother’s playing in backyard,
My big sister will just pray.

Nor will you see the cuts,
On my little sister’s arms,
Like me she covers her wounds
And other signs of self harm.

Besides, we would all defend each other
When push comes to shove,
Because know that the real danger,
Comes from outside of family love.

Despite all their problems,
They are all that I’ve got.
So what else can I do,
But accept them as my lot?

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Memory Violation

brain oscillation
no concentration
thought invasion
constant rumination
memory violation
past commiseration
unwanted stimulation
apologetic compensation
fleeting determination
hypocritical deliberation
personality creation
false presentation
total ostentation
needing defibrillation

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Paradox of Affliction

I need you to help me,
But you overwhelm me.

I need support,
But I cannot bring myself to ask.

I need an intervention,
But I will fight against change.

I need answers,
But I don’t know what to ask.

I need a miracle,
But I don’t believe they exist.

I need something,
But I don’t know what it is.

I need this to stop,
But I’m too afraid to act.

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Prognosis

I’m sorry to confirm,
You have a case of thought worm.

Soon they will infect your brain,
With reverberated pain.

They will burrow and squirm
And spread their sperm.

Then their spawn will begin to drain
And eventually you’ll be driven insane

You gotta hold firm,
Cause you’re in it for the long term.

I say it again,
In vigilance you must remain.

Still, you’re gonna end up infirm,
Cause you’re infected by a thought worm.

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Tears

your tears came
a moment too late
their worth voided
upon creation

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Nothing

i don’t want
to do
anything
yet
even doing nothing
is still
something

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Other Than Here

The inner storm meets outer calm.
A silent fury.
Impotent rage not expressed.

Other than here,
Other than now.

The inner fog meets outer clarity.
A quiet constriction.
Clear thought not expressed.

Other than here,
Other than now.

The inner grime meets outer cleanliness.
A mute warning.
Functionality not expressed.

Other than here,
Other than now.

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Lickety-Split

I wanna quit
I’m just not with it
Feeling like shit
Feeling like a misfit
An unfit and unlit hypocrite
In need of a refit

No longer with the energy to commit
Unable to continue sharing my wit
Unable to continue to submit
Unable to fulfil his holy writ

A social counterfeit
A fool with his brain split
Someone who’s no longer legit

Some kinda halfwit
Rolling without a permit
In need of a babysit

I’m unfit
An empty tool kit
A horse without its bit
A victim that’s gaslit
A plane without a cockpit
A radio with nothing to transmit

Guilt that’s impossible to acquit
Pain that I can no longer omit

Not without a wrist slit

Not without a friend to get close-knit
Someone that allows me to admit
All of my turmoil and bullshit
Someone with the necessary grit
To make the darkness sunlit
Someone that won’t just split
The moment I fall into a pit

If that’s you, please send help, lickety-split

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

Take The Damn Pill

Take the damn pill,
You’re on it for a reason.
It’s to stop you feeling ill,
To keep you from self-treason.

Sure, you’re feeling fine,
But how long will it last?
You know you’re not divine,
Just look back at your past.

There was that time you went cold turkey,
When you knew it would be fine.
Instead, your mind went murky,
And you turned to a life of crime.

Or when you got the jitters,
So bad you couldn’t sleep.
Feeling your skin crawling with critters,
Causing you to weep.

Or that time you almost died,
When depression came back strong.
Or the time that you lied,
To yourself that something wasn’t wrong.

Take the damn pill,
You’re on it for a reason.
I don’t want to be reading your will,
As the last act of the season.

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This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly