Still

I throw/ scraps of myself/ into still waters/ hope/ that the ducks will come/ and be my friends/ cautiously/ they gather/ scrabbling at my discarded pieces/ in futile belief/ that they can make me/ whole/ but I am stuck/ in a dead end town/ where empty shops/ mirror/ its empty ignorant heart/ and my own heart/ weeps softly for release/ for something more/ than this place

And at night/ when the black dog growls and keeps me/ awake/ barking its contempt/ at my pathetic existence/ I choose to ignore/ and so try/ and win the fight/ so when finally/ the eggs hatch/ and I emerge/ not newborn/ born anew/ renewed/ the same as before/ but altered/ a patchwork quilt/ of who I am/ of who they need me to be

Your face/blurred/ once through tears/ now through time/ no longer matters/ serves only as an anecdote/ a tale of the man/ I used to be/ before I fed the ducks/ and stared into waters/ still/ running deep

Save Often

I watch
through layers of self doubt
and acres of trepidation
as the world passes me by.

As the planet hurtles
through space and time
I cling to my wasted life
and wonder whether
to get on or get off.

Time heals all wounds
but it can’t heal a mind
dead set on self destruction.

There is no instruction book
no on/off switch
There’s just me
and the twisted logic
of willpower.

Caught up in the epic
of trying to use a mind
against itself;
Change a mind.
Save a life.

Save a mind.
Change a life.