Its a poem and will be spoken word at some point, but its about me and what's up with me, then this generation and people and things. It does a final edit and stuff but yeah! Read please :)
I cannot claim naivety to the boy I am,
Because I am that boy you were warned about,
The one that runs at a hit of seriousness,
I have that quick smile,
And a glint in my eye,
I will make you believe that there is some good inside this bad boy,
Then leave you,
On the side of the street,
Cursing the day you met me.
But there is a plot twist to this story,
I never meant to hurt you,
Any of you,
All of you,
I am cursed with a heart that,
Wants to help,
Wants to protect,
Wants to keep you away from the horrors this world has to offer,
Now I know,
All too late,
That I am the horrors this world has to offer,
I am the one endangering your self esteem,
Never the cure.
So now I will rip myself from your life,
Tearing each part of my memory from your chest,
Again open and exposed to the infection,
Waiting to pounce,
Manifesting in young boys wanting to play with porcelain dolls,
Boys wearing the suits of men,
Playing with everything they want but cannot have.
And you bystander,
The ‘best friend’
You cannot tell me how much I have hurt them,
Trust me I know,
I was there,
When the innocence was smashed,
And the naivety replaced with so much pain,
And now you believe,
All the love poems,
All the memories,
All the stories, whispered over steaming cups of coffee and hot chocolate,
in the cold winter nights,
Back when summer was gracing us with promises of a beautiful spring,
Now you think all that was for nothing.
And now that nagging voice in my head,
The one I told you about,
And now that nagging voice,
Is a nagging scream,
A rash cry inside my head,
Begging for daylight, wanting to get at the world
To control me like a freakish puppeteer
Each one of your little
Yes, jokes that are lined with truth, the kind you just laugh off
Cause they were ‘only joking’
Each one of those crawls inside my mind into the barren wasteland of my self esteem
And somehow manages to twist and contort,
The desert into a tsunami,
Erupting with all the hate and bullying,
All the dark nights,
And dark thoughts of suicide,
All the almost moments
The almost undressing my wrists
Showing the world the dark red river flowing beneath the tender skin.
Now I have all the bad luck in the world ‘cause
I smash each mirror that shows this perception of a broken man,
a broken boy.
But I will hide my self away,
Stich a smile to face that will never faultier,
Because you can fuck off if you ever think I will ever let you know you have beaten me
I will lie to the world of bystanders if I have to,
Lie and throw my fake happiness in their faces,
Smearing the shit that I call a mask,
Into each orifice I can find in their fucked little smug faces.
No matter how bad the screams get,
I cannot let anyone in to nurse the depression
Riddling me like a shot gun victim,
I can taste the cold metal of the bug shot,
As it seeps through my body
But tonight, tonight something feels different
I can’t explain it, but tonight I do not feel like I am drowning alone,
Its just a feeling but you never know
Maybe we can overcome,
I mean we,
all of us,
any of us,
I feel like I stand
not alone but together
I will summon the weirdos!
I will rally the freaks!
I will remember the forgotten!
I will stand with the alone!
We can take up arms against the mental diseases!
And we will shout at the bystanders!
The ones sitting back enjoying the show
We will shout!
“Depression isn’t just self-harm!
Anxiety isn’t just being shy!
OCD isn’t just aligning spoons!
Bipolar isn’t just up and down!
Anorexia isn’t just to hit the next dress size down!
Metal illness doesn’t just happen in movies!
Suicide doesn’t just happen on TV!
Self-harm isn’t just as simple as a razor and a towel – to mop up the emotions we can’t keep inside our skin.
Hurt comes in any form,
Scars come in any form,
Pain comes in any form,
Sadness comes in any form!!
YOU CANNOT INGORE US!”
And they will be scared; they will run like run away like we tried to do once.
But trust me when I say,
We are the strong ones,
We are the lucky ones,
We have been tried and tested and we are still here to fight another round.
We are the saviours to this dying world.
Pens and paper,
Pencils and sketch pads,
Paintbrushes and canvas,
Spray-paint and walls,
Voices and microphones,
Instruments and Amps,
Cameras and Film
And so much more.
We have tools to change the world and for the love of god we can do it,
Because they believe we can’t.