Poetry
Writing to, from, and about the parts within. Sharing to normalize the healing process.
Out Now: How To Write Evocative Poetry
Stop Rushing
Stop rushing.
Take a break.
You are not lazy.
Trust that you will get it done.
You always do.
To perform optimally,
You need to rest.
You need to recover.
You need to heal.
You need to take a breath.
So do so.
Give yourself permission.
Pour the cup of tea.
Feel its warmth.
Taste its subtly.
The world will still be there.
Your work will be waiting for you.
Return to it with fresh eyes.
Embrace it with new energy.
Attack the day.
The Fear of Imperfection
Atelophobia
The fear of imperfection.
The fear of not being good enough.
Crippling inaction.
Stuttered words.
No self-worth.
The fear of failure causing failure.
Not inability, talent or a lack of opportunity.
Just fear.
Just anxiety.
Just unattainable standards.
Standards put upon by myself.
Standards forced upon me by the world.
Others can fail.
Others can be imperfect.
Others can have fun.
Just stop.
Please don’t placate me.
I know ‘no one cares about that stuff’.
I know ‘we all make mistakes’.
I know ‘I’m only human’.
Reason doesn’t stop the thoughts.
By definition a phobia is illogical.
My only solace comes from the diagnosis.
Knowing that I am not alone.
Perfectly imperfect, together.
Creating A Monster
My mind creates this world.
How can you say I am not God?
Every character, every scene, every aspect;
All a variation of myself.
Created in my image, created in my mind.
Both with and without intention.
The universe forever expanding
Inwardly as it does outwardly.
Distortions of reality,
More elegant than any alternate world.
Why should I leave?
Here I am something,
Simultaneously at, in and above myself.
A beautiful story of consciousness,
Played in a theatre of dreams.
Time passes, I open my eyes.
My focus wanes and I begin to forget.
Only the feelings remain,
Glorious certainty, a guide to my higher self.
Fragments of my truth are written and told.
Just a mere representation, a lie.
Imagination takes hold,
Corrupting, corroding, filling the gaps.
Stop. Let me remember.
Let me feel again,
I want the unadulterated truth.
I want to be back there again,
Where I feel divine,
Where it feels right.
Where I don't feel like a character
In someone else's dream.
I want to be present,
Both creating and existing simultaneously.
Doubts creep in,
It was just a beautiful distortion of reality,
A test of faith. Nothing to see here,
Move along. I am awake. It's gone.
Caged Animal
Isolation.
Pacing.
Caged.
No hunt.
No kill.
No thrill.
Domesticated.
Trained.
Punished.
I want to run.
I want to fight.
I want to fuck.
Your protection wasn’t asked for.
Your protection isn’t needed.
Your protection is a slow death.
I am safe.
Trapped behind bars.
Never missing a meal.
Stuck in a comfortable rut.
Stuck in your routine.
Stuck and on display.
Nature sanitised.
Whitewashed reality.
A parody.
Just one slip.
Just one mistake.
And you’re mine.
Devoured.
Devoured screaming.
Devoured alive.
Your fault.
You caged me.
You attempted to tame me.
You put me here.
You put me on display.
You dropped your guard.
Lulled.
Hypnotised.
Dazed.
Cornered.
Primal.
Rage.
This is evolution.
This is inevitability.
This is life.