Dreamworlds cease and consciousness washes over
Pen ink loose, hands cold, time is open and I'm finally sober.
Hangers are screeching,
Makes me think of the time I was inconsolable at the train platform and the priest started preaching
or praying, for me.
His way of helping, you see
'Cause I was crying uncontrollably.
Something changed, can't put my finger on it.
Doesn't matter anymore,
I'm no longer stuck pretty sure,
weeping, cradled, dying on the floor.
Pretty sure, yeah, I've closed that door.
Falling for yourself is a funny sort of feeling
I catch myself crooked smiling at my own train of thought
Sometimes even laughing a lot
A memory that tastes so good and feels so sweet
It's a form of healing
I remember being so afraid of myself
Entrenched in a hopeless bitter mood
Typing a message internally then
Alt, Ctrl, Delete.
But now pieces of thought sit comfortably on the chair of my brain
A mind so calm, I find it pretty relaxing,
a tedious task, seemingly mundane.
See, my mind once was a battlefield
on a plain white background
Wars lost, won and in-between
So stark in contrast
yet still, I never felt seen.
Looking at the years ahead, filled with anxiety, fear,
just utter fucking dread.
But shit do change
and I say that with my chest
I wish I had the answer, the elixir
the cheats to this test
But what I can advise is to gather yourself
No need for that business acumen bullshit
Lives lived just to be a cut above the rest
It's an unforgiving, relentless and pointless (if I'm being honest)
When you start to deep your life
at the ripe old age of 25
Purpose gets put into perspective
You fantasise shunning habits, thoughts and ways
that are maladaptive
Saying bye to that person who was once so reactive.
Smiling at the birds who wake me in bed
Telling myself I look good in yellow, purple,
Knowing, I am that bitch when I walk in a room
Even if I'm disassociating
on a silly little zoom.
See now my dreams get bigger and colours more vivid
I have no desire to change the insipid.
No longer breaking my back,
Trying to change poisoned forces that don't yield to me,
No matter how sad their history
They're focused on lack
Helping those who don't want it can no longer be my prerogative
Nor is alienating the truth
or speaking in derogatives.
No judgement or jury will relieve that inner turmoil,
anguish or fury.
I know this now.
Comparing your being muddies the self,
Fraying the integrity of your seamless edges, your core, your health.
So it's fair to say
Continue choosing every day
As a new opportunity, finding a way,
to do things more authentically
Just to feel a little more like me
So here I am, back again
Head titled, spine hunched
Admiring the vintage shop carpet stains
Never thinking it would feel this good to be
Untangling metal chains.