a thousand eyes reflected

i am a multitude
that speaks with one voice
broken apart
through lack of choice

the face i wear
closely mirrors yours
how else can i survive
when the world itself abhors?

used to think i was acting
but now i see the truth
another day wasted
on the folly of youth
a thousand eyes reflected

in a broken mirror’s gaze
quick swallow this pill son
this is all just a phase

there’s no-one left to question
the slow passing of time
nothing is permanent
‘cept my ink forming rhyme

---

This poem is inspired by the book How To Write Evocative Poetry

Just A Fiction

My entire sense of self
Is supplanted
By that one undefinable feeling
Of a nothingness with substance

A heavy emptiness
Filled
With a choking void

The screaming silence
Of a statue
Suffocating under glass

Even in the moment
When his hand
Struck my face
It didn’t feel real

Even in the moment
When she exposed herself
And approached me
It didn’t feel real

Nothing has ever felt real
Except the feeling of unreality

My entire life
Feels like a play
Just words in a book
Only real
When it’s read
And then quickly forgotten
The trauma downplayed
Because we both know
it’s just a fiction
Created for your entertainment

---

This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

i drift

i drift

away from you
and
from the parts of me
that know i am drifting

only later
do i see
my wake

i hear your words
i see your pain
i know you’re suffering

logically
i realise
that you
need me

it doesn’t help
me to connect

i drift

painful realities
dissipate upon arrival

i drift

directionless
and
devoid of meaning

a raft
without a sail
oblivious to nature’s whims

i am corrupted
by
the act
of forgetting
the act
of forgetting

the pain
is saved
for later

i drift

---

This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

Thoughts Intrude

Thoughts intrude,
Like a hammer’s blow,
Destroying the peace
I’ve cultivated.

Thoughts intrude,
Like a siren’s scream,
Stealing the attention
I’ve promised.

Thoughts intrude,
Like a threatening word,
Forcing the action
I’ve avoided.

Thoughts intrude,
Like a funeral march,
Revealing the emotions
I’ve suppressed.

Thoughts intrude,
Like a bird’s call,
Highlighting the beauty
I’ve missed.

Thoughts intrude,
Like a child’s smile,
Connecting the reality
I’ve lost.

---

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