Category: Self Reflection

04/12/2020 – Chicken Soup

Thank you, chicken, for your sacrifice,

You nice and warm, and taste nice.

First you get turned into soup,

and at the end of your journey through me, into poop.

But oh how your warmth is like a lover’s embrace,

Warming me up on these cold days.

You are so precious to me,

but sadly a good life was not guaranteed;

To you, my dear chicken,

when you bawked your last bok,

were you in pain? were you okay?

I can’t imagine the terrifying last moment,

It’s the last line, a terrible omen:

the sound of the machines and blades swinging.

So close to death you heard the angels singing.

But on cold days when nothing else will do,

I have to give up on my morals, and turn to you.

04/12/2020 – Welcoming Sadness

Oh how I missed you my old friend,

I hadn’t seen you for some time.

I knew I would see you again, in the end.

But till now, it seemed like I was fine.

How I’d simply focus on smiling,

and put on a brave façade.

I didn’t even realize I was dying.

I already found it quite odd.

How naturally these works were written,

About death and depression.

It turns out you were just hidden,

Until I could make this confession.

It was a truth I had to tell to myself.

That it was okay to see you, to cry.

It’s something I had to accept, to get help.

I saw you a few times after I said goodbye…

But then I just left you behind.

I hope that you can forgive me, my friend.

You were honest with me,

you were kind.

Never again,

will you be condemned.

Please watch “Inside Out”, as it inspired me to write this one. It’s okay to feel sad sometimes 🙂

14/02/2020 – Scattered thoughts

Oh, endless apathy;

Release me, let me be.

Just leave me,

Though you are already my sole ironic company.

It is times like these,

I would give up the world,

To breathe, to feel, anything.

To have a sign of life.

It is an unconvincing facade,

a disguise slowly deteriorating.

I see the sky,

I see the colours,

I see the birds fly.

But there is a blatant disconnection,

Between mind and soul.

My hands reach out and try to reach out to life,

But it leaves my hands burned, as it moves in a blur.

One day I’ll be me again,

On the day that I’m released.

This melancholic outpour is all deception,

a sad reflection.

I am aware,

I should not wait,

I should put my mind to it,

Get out there and…

do something.

But I can’t focus,

And my mind lags behind.

 

 

Just

One step at a time.

 

 

I’ll get there.

01/12/2019 – Orion

Three pale dots on the canvas that is the midnight sky.

To witness their beauty,

A moralising reminder of what has been.

Once I bore witness as I stood on the wooden deck of my home,

Though that was an eon ago already now.

A bitter-sweet memory,

Yet, the stars still dare to shine.

There exists no comprehension in my mind for their beauty.

Oh how I would treasure it,

To simply gaze upon them in awe together with you…

No greater gift could possibly exist.

09/10/2019 – Strings

Loneliness and lethargy,

Keeping me company on this chapter.

I longingly await the light,

Alas,

Rather in life than in death.

When the clouds may finally break open,

And release all this anguish.

Oh, when may I see this day?

An endless number of strings pull on my heart,

Threatening to tear apart the stitches, placed so many times.

Frail arms clutch tightly around my chest,

In a painfully hopeless attempt at composure.

Holding on,

Barely.

Strings of a full spectrum of colour,

Ironically pulling me further into darkness.

Memories of days when the sun’s warmth still registered,

Of when there was a satisfaction to life.

Oh Lord in the heavens above,

Is this all there is?

As if life is a faulty rollercoaster that knows only how to travel down.

My pitifully weak mind is not enough,

Torn apart and put back together so many times over now.

I beg for something,

For someone,

To give me life.

I speak these words but there is a painful awareness,

That I should reach out,

Independently achieve greatness.

Doing so would sacrifice this containment of my heart,

Allowing it to get ripped out of my chest.

Maybe this time,

The stitches won’t be necessary.

12/07/2019 – Wasteland

A frozen world.

And with shaking legs,

A fruitless scream.

The clouds hang lifelessly in the air,

The sun not providing its invaluable warmth.

An infertile wasteland of hopelessness.

The endless width of it seemingly unreachable,

As every handhold crumbles away.

They fly overhead,

The vultures of death.

Waiting for me to succumb to the nothingness.

Ironically an endless sound in the nothingness,

Telling me to stop.

It seems like the greatest sin,

To even consider surrender.

To become yet another bone carcass and leave my soul,

To then become dust once more,

And join the stars,

In an endless journey.

It’s all deception.

But if the truth can’t save me,

What can?

23/06/19 – Heart

If home is where the heart is,

I’ve lost my heart not so long ago.

I’m asked,

Does it feel like home yet?

And I wonder,

Can’t they see this bloody hole in my chest?

It hasn’t healed over,

There’s been no stitches,

Not even a disinfectant.

I can see the infection,

Gnawing away at raw flesh.

Some days there is restoration,

Some nights there is none.

No comfort,

Rest,

When all that keeps me awake is a deep longing.

Alas,

It’s a reason to live.

To be whole,

Grow a new heart.

20/06/19 – Grounded Thoughts

An instrumental paradox-like chaos.

Laws and logics,

But gravity fails at times.

My thoughts swirling through the clouds,

Thoughts of joy linger on the whites,

Sadness on the grey,

And in a thunderstorm all is consumed.

Each storm ends in ambiguity,

Will there be sunshine,

Rain,

Another day of winds,

Twists and turns?

To take the reigns of a horse,

Galloping at a frightening pace without a pauze.

To fly down to a peaceful place,

When the thoughts’ energy finally runs out,

And sleep embraces me.

Obsecure dreams,

Subconscious processing of the relevant and irrelevant,

Before my eyes open to a sunny day.

I will the winds to be still,

And so they are.

But there is a terrible wrongness about it all.

The leaves shouldn’t be eternally motionless.

They should wither,

Dry up,

Be blown away into oblivion by winds that shan’t remember them.

Then new leaves will grow,

Bear fruit and bloom for all to see;

Welcome the sun and its seemingly endless energy.

Whether it’s a day where the leaves are blown away,

Or where my thoughts have been led astray;

I know it will be okay,

At the end of the final sunny day.

Time Taken: 17 minutes

20/05/19 – Thunder In An Open Field

A rumble as mighty as the roar of an ancient god,

Approaching with giant haste in a quiet contrast.

A green open field,

Yellow flowers growing where they see fit,

As the sun still permits,

Before it too must give way.

The wind becomes a gale,

The swallow flies low,

And a lone tree calls for me.

To lay myself down in its cool shade,

Rest a tiresome body.

Let a storm blow over,

At the price of its eternal constant when giving in.

A rose-scented thought so tempting,

But alas,

I stand on two feet that are not my own.

Flowers shrink away,

A mighty choreography of harsh winds and freezing rain,

As thunder strikes!

Flaming white bolts of fatal fire crash down around me,

Mighty explosions crash through enormous mountains.

Split in half and made anew,

And the storm finds its satisfaction in the chaos.

It now moves,

Blows away,

Over the oceans,

Dissipates,

Its purpose fulfilled.

The flowers show their face,

And a warm sun appears once more.

It feels kinder

than before.

Time Taken: 26 minutes