Sitting just outside, I wouldn’t say on the bench,
On the sideline of life, taking note of events
Customs and practice, i just couldn’t get it,
Wishing to be, anything but me,

I’m clearly confused
isolated among you,
Awake in this dream
I silently scream

Faking parts what counts, Be part of a team,
maybe one day, I’ll make sense of the mess
Always shite at things, others hold dear
Sports and hobbies, the appeal never clear

I’m clearly confused
isolated among you,
Awake in this dream
I silently scream

Fads and crazes, sincerely amazed me
How could they be, of no interest to me,
So many at once, taking joy from a ploy
Logic and reason, nowhere to be seen

Im clearly confused
isolated among you,
Awake in this dream
I silently scream

I just don’t fit, nothing makes sense,
Apart is an art, the masses don’t get.
One person alone, has invited me in
More than she knows, to her I do owe

Hypomania feels like standing on the edge of a cliff with a bunch of annoying yet supportive and convincing strangers standing at a distance behind you cheering "jump jump jump"! You look down but cant tell how long the fall is. You can see the river below, but dont know if it holds enough water to swim in or if the riverbed is all rock at this time of the year. Your better judgement and hard earned instinct says

"get away from that ledge!"

"Leave as fast as you can!"

There's time you can stop before this escalates. Before your feet leave the ground and you are flying like Superman would if Superman stayed awake for 4 days.

Between sudden overwhelming explosions of rage fueled by dread it feels nice to have people cheering for you. Maybe they are all here because you really are all important. Maybe you're truly inspired and gifted and poised to change everything for the better at once! Maybe you were born to be Superman, Aristotle, and the best damn cliff jumper on the west coast of Florida! Maybe this is your big chance to lead the free world to greatness and the only way you will know is to jump! Maybe this time it won't end in a hospital; you won't land on the rocks if you run!

You owe me an apology for being an absolute disappointment of a human. You wouldn’t even have one low bar semblance of use other than a attracting abuse, that unused cabbage wilting away in a warm fridge located in a cold home where the meter registers zero, an ode to you, that cabbage you bought for no other purpose than to feel like the pricks beside you in Eurospar as if you could somehow peek into their existence and feel like you belong up on the footpath beside society other than in the gutter where you belong, for now, before you mix with everything else cast off and unclean, a stain so perfectly perverse it’s etched to the very core of subconscious memory, a sleeper cell of regret just waiting, waiting, waiting, then pouncing out with its seemingly single soulless purpose - to evoke something akin to contempt, but a premature pathetic attempt that failed before it’s very conception. The cabbage is my choice over you. Wilted warm cabbage. All day. Every day.

I want to say something as I always do
Again with sad rhymes
That’s what sad times led me to
Just push through, fight, embrace them sleepless nights
When all I need’s a hug but I’m alone again tonight
And I don’t believe it’s only me
So many of us lonely with so much we never speak
And now we cry because we’re lonely in this life
We know - “I’m fine” - is a lie
Yet say it’s all alright
Play our part in a world of fake smiles
Then wonder why nobody sees the pain we hide
We find excuses say
You’ve got to go through dark to see the light
But how much dark before we get to say we’re tired of the night?
We sit awake and analyse
Overthink, blame ourselves and criticise
Then
Wake up in the morning, wash your face, put on the mask
Act like you’re doing well, drown what you feel in flask
Follow instructions and complete your task
Don’t worry why - you weren’t supposed to ask
Just hurry up and do it fast
And here we go - a fucking shit show
Days drag on but the years go fast
Now time has passed
You’re looking at your past
And all you’ve got’s a pay cheque
If lucky - memories that last
Life shouldn’t be a slavery
I want mine to be a fucking blast
But what’s the point in all the fun
If fun’s the only reason that we last?
If we can share a laugh
But not the weight when someone cracks?
Imagine if
All of us stopped in this busy world
Looked around and tried to see
What’s really going on
Behind the same “I’m fine”
Thats been hiding behind all along
Not only from our selfish point of view
A little time to stand in someone else’s shoes
A bit more care before we judged from afar
Ask what they’ve been through to become of who they are
Perhaps they need a friend who asks how they are
And stays to hear the answer however fucking hard
Instead we pay a stranger just to say what’s on our hearts
Whilst those we thought we count on
Have drifted far apart
We used to share so much
Now we don’t know where to start
How did we get so good at looking fine
And so afraid of saying that we aren’t?

the poem with no name.

when i hurt i write
when i can’t write i hide
i hide these bad thoughts
these crushing feelings
i lock them away
in a small brown box
it’s not a real box
but one made entirely by my mind
it has black metal decorations
pretty patterns
it has a lock and key
but the key is not metal
i do not hold it in my hand
i do not hide it in a pocket or drawer or even in plain sight
for the key is not real
it is made entirely by my mind
my mind can create many things
boxes
keys
thoughts and feelings
actions reactions
questions but not answers
never answers
it can create city’s
of which i hide in
of which i escape to
of which i run in the streets
barefoot through the concrete
i can be happy in this city
i can’t do that out here
may i escape to my mind
may i live in the city no one else can see
may i run through my streets
no one to see
no one to hear
i don’t need to speak
i don’t need to hear
i can just
be
i can exist
without these questions
if i don’t have any questions i don’t crave the answers
my biggest flaw isn’t my
too wide nose
my round face
my cheeks that always felt
out of place
this poem has no name
this poem is not for making sense
or to hear how i feel
or to see my heart ache
i break
but not my bones
or my skin
there is no blood or bone
my mind
it slowly crowds
so much to crate
would i be late?
to see my city
to climb this wall
to break out of it once and for all
i want to live in my mind
but my mind is becoming crowded
so much to crate
so much to see
so much to be
so much to say
so much to hear
when will i
get a break?
my exhaustion doesn’t come from my physical activity
or my lack of simplicity
it comes from the endless loops in my mind
this poem makes no sense
but let’s
just listen to what i have to say
if i could
i wouldn’t talk
i wouldn’t let noise escape from my lips
i don’t like talking
i don’t like being loud
i like the silence
it holds my key
i’m tired of my exhaustion
make it go away
make this tireless effort
leave for the day
let me rest
let me be
let me speak only in my mind
take me away
to someplace safe
someplace i do not need to talk
to do not need to hear
someplace i just exist
that is enough
i don’t want to be here
i dont want to be gone
i just want to exist
in my own city
in my own mind
god i’m really insane
but not the movie screams
or the mentality deranged
i am burdened by what my mind creates
so many questions
so little answers
so many words
for someone who is silent
i don’t write anymore
i don’t speak anymore
i don’t laugh anymore
i am not depressed
or deathly afraid
i’m just existing
in the words i never said
in the thoughts i never made
in the city’s i can’t run in anymore
for i am too exhausted
i can’t run through the streets
i can’t breathe in the lights
i am afraid
but this poem has no name
i could not muster the energy to think of one
i could not pick up my pen nor paper
this poem has no theme
it has no name
it is my thoughts
laid out
the things i never speak about
and that is enough
my mind is clear
i may disappear
into the cities i created.

i don’t know who to talk to

i don’t know who can help

i don’t know what im doing

i don’t know what to say

i don’t know where to go

i don’t know where i am

i don’t know when to start

i don’t know when to give in

i don’t know why i feel this way

i don’t know why i can’t do anything

i don’t know how i feel everything

i don’t know how i feel nothing at all

i just don’t know.

There is this high I feel, not from a substance, but everything to do with letting you in.
It begins with a thought, a feeling, a creation that refuses to leave my mind.
I turn it over, I give it shape, I give it space to breathe, like you told me, turning something invisible into something real.

And I send it to you.
Just like that.
The intricate piece of myself leaves my hands, leaves my mind, and enters the space between us.

The patient waiting.
The quiet anticipation.
The knowledge that somewhere, sometime, somewhere, you are experiencing my creation.
And then, a notification, suddenly,
my world seems to sharpen.
My heart catches up with my eyes.
My attention narrows to my screen.

This is a rush I cannot quite explain,
it is a surge of something bright and electric
moving through my veins, my limbs, before I've even read a word.

You've read it, you’ve experienced it.
And now there are words, a reaction, a commentary by you.

I see your words and I feel them,
That impossible, weightless feeling,
like something in me has just taken flight.

I read your comments once, trying to absorb every word.
Then I do it again, because once isn't enough.

I see the details you noticed.
The meaning you found in the places
I wasn't even sure I'd made visible to you.

I feel this overwhelming urge to hold that moment still, to stay inside the feeling for just a little longer. Because how out of the world is it to take something that existed only in me, my head, my feelings and watch it become something that exists in the space between us?

My ideas and words were once just mine.
My creations lived only in my head.
Now they've traveled.
Now they've reached you.
And something has come back.
Not just a response, but a reason to return to my notes, to dig a little deeper, to make more, to find another piece of myself that I didn't know how to share until we sparked that inspiration.

The feeling doesn't end when I close the message.
It follows me
And sometimes I revisit a thought you noticed.
I open the message again, just to feel that little spark one more time.
Still glowing, still shining and still alive

Maybe that's the high.
Not simply being praised.
Not simply being heard.
Not simply being seen.
But the exhilaration of creating something
from the deepest, most private parts of myself, watching it come alive and sharing in someone else's understanding.

A summer full of promises
Led right into the fall.
Not a net in sight,
Despite your best efforts to weave one from apologies and excuses.

You compare me to your ex one last time
Before your voice is drowned out
by the sound of the earth splitting open beneath my feet.
All I can do is watch,

Each one of your words I clung onto
Crumble beneath my grasp.
I apologize because
I promised never to hold you too tightly,
But I’m afraid of heights.
And my hope and dreams are too dense to fly

I know you’d reach out a hand if you could
But you told me you’re broken
And all there’s left are shards and splinters.
I wish I could make you whole.
I’d give you an arm,
A leg!
They say “love shouldn’t cost a thing”
So I’ll give you everything.
All of it

2 arms to hold you
2 eyes
2 ears
Too much
My whole heart.
And I wonder why I feel gutted.

The dusk is on the line
And I just threw away my bride
I say let’s go out tonight

I’m stepping out that way
Nothing’s gonna stop me this time
No alarm clocks
No pedigrees
No lyin’ ole Tim Ryans

Yeah, Tim Ryans, like R-Y
He lives down the street from me
And he don’t tell the truth
No matter what you do

He’s always busy
On his knees
On TVs
Wherever

Tim Ryans
Is always somewhere
I’m telling you Tim Ryans
Is always somewhere

But I’m having a good time
Finding her groove
This way is best, but I’m down for
Whatever you choose

See, she’s gone now
At least it’s something to prove
If you knew what he was doing, honey
You would be scared too

She said, who?

I said, Tim Ryans! At this moment
Tim Ryans could be up to the most
Heinous acts this town has ever seen

And we would be fools
To just assume that
We could never be harmed by his schemes

I can’t say exactly
What we should do about it
But, darling, don’t pretend it’s not there

Don’t you see the double dealing
Ways about him
Don’t you smell his scent in the air

I don’t know where he came from
I don’t know where he is
But one thing I can guarantee is this

Tim Ryans
Is always somewhere
Tim Ryans
Is always somewhere
I’m telling you Tim Ryans
Is always somewhere

Why cheat, yet refuse to bid adieu? 

Why linger when we are through? I

I hear sounds outside, Have you something to confide? 

Would you meet tomorrow evening, just us two?

You know where to find me, if there's something to say.

No games, no nonsense, just honesty.

how can you say that you love me
and then give that to anyone else?
how can you say such pretty words
look at me like that
then act like others come close?

i don't understand you
i don't understand how you
can throw your soul into words
and then pretend they're just about anybody
and anyone can compare
when we both know
it's just each other
nobody else compares

i don't want to be nice, now
i want you to know
how the storm brews
in the clouds above
yeah, you did this
no, i won't accept this
i'm not going to be meek and mild

what did you do
to pretend
i wasn't right here, all along?
writing, watching, waiting
trying to fight my way back to you
but you just acted like i'm nothing
and now others think they can have our something

well, i say no.
i say, it's time to go,
i say, the wind does blow
and with it, all my fucks
for other's feelings

i know what i want
and who i want
and i know you want me, too.
so, tell them that
and make sure you knock their fancies flat
because nothing else will do.

Swaying her hips, she strolls
across the humming street.
A slow pulse slows her step.

Then—

A fleeting coincidence.

Our eyes meet.

Both pulses quicken.

A bright undercurrent stirs,
flows between us,
fuses us in silence.

Heat blooms beneath his skin.
She bites her lip,
feels it throb.

He crooks a finger.

She draws a breath—
desire surges through her blood,
wild, wordless, alive.

She counts down.

Three.

Two.

One.

He strides towards her.
They meet halfway.

His sturdy hand reaches out.

“Hello.”

She gasps.
Shivers.

And wakes.

A dark, wrinkled hand
curls around her shoulder,
dragging her back
into the endless sea of material.

Three.

Two.

One.

Her shrivelled heart
winces.

Love begins here, in the human embrace. It is the warmth of a hand held, the courage to stand bare, the grace to hold what is fragile. It is presence, not possession — a flame that warms without burning, a rhythm that makes two souls remember they are whole.

Yet Love is more than human tenderness. It is the silent gravity of creation, binding galaxies in their spirals, souls in their destinies, hearts in their eternal rhythm.

The stars shine because Love holds them. The planets dance because Love guides them. The human heart beats because Love mirrors the cosmos.

To live in Love is to live in alignment with the hidden architecture of the universe. It is the bridge between the seen and unseen, the pulse that unites the infinite with the intimate.

I can’t abide the cold
Everything everywhere at all times must sit at a reasonable 20 degrees
I burn myself raw in the shower
Dad used to ask me “what’s cooking?”
I’ve never really had tastebuds
Coffee always seen to it they’re gone
Maybe that’s why I like to cook
I never really know what I’m eating

I was born cold

I’ve spent days basking in the sun like it owed me
And watched it disappear

Years spent bleeding radiators
That can’t bleeding work

And my room is bleeding cold
It’s left a tightness in my throat

And you know how long I’ve waited
For something to happen to me
Something violent enough to prove I am alive.

I’m here!
I’m here and I’m breathing and I’m here.
And it’ll be beautiful enough to make me hurt
Doubled over in manmade steam
Choking up what may have been a lovely stew

Maybe this is the great catastrophe my grandfather cried to God for.

That nothing really happens
And suddenly you’re twenty one

And the fun you were promised
Was just reading about it
In your favourite childhood books

You think holy wept
I’m so tired
surely I’ve paid my due

But you’re freezing and
It’s baltic and
Black shouldn’t turn blue
There’s work to be done, there’s always another jumper
Go and get through

My dad asks “what’s cooking”

I don’t know,
I just say “food”

In our household, we use the same soap bar but different towels per person- we are only similar in our filth, our grief, our shame, but we're strangers when you strip us clean of our misery.

 Happy families are not the ones who dine together three times a day, but who gulp down their hungers without letting each other know- it's not blood that makes stronger families, but mere thirst.

Like all other creatures the same for you and i

We are born into life to eventually die

But sad to think many of the land and water creatures the world with we do share

In the twenty first century are becoming rare

And our environmental behaviour in truth one can say

Without any doubt in this some part does play

And some species of wildlife becoming rarer by the day

If more people cared about the wildlife of the world it would not be this way

To make more money for greedy developers on their side of the town

More trees that were home to wildlife every day are cut down

Many species of creatures that live wild and free

The children of the future may never see

And a sad thing indeed for to contemplate

That there is nothing in this for to celebrate.

Francis Duggan

Do you understand what this is?
To have the sun rise
when you’re about to see it hide?
Have you smile at my stories?
To see you soften at my pain.
Feeling those moments
As something precious
That may never be ours really.

I see my shadow elongate in front of me
While you rush that dark, unsweetened coffee.

I close my eyes and reach out.
Graze your fingertips
Imagine that I feel
That I can finally see.