The chameleon of evolution is a psychotic find.

There’s loneliness in the institute of the white padded walls

Where your voices echo helplessly in the darkened halls.

Where you scream and shout to eliminate your pain

To dissolve the evil voices, so you once again can reign.

There’s a cunningness in the persona that occupies your mind

The chameleon of evolution is a psychotic find.

A masquerade of survival it eliminates the threat

Until sleep deprivation calls in the debt.

The padding feels like candy cotton as the sedation flows

 silencing the voices as the heavy curtains close.

It rips through the grey matter freezing the soul

Punishment for creating an alternative role.

The shopping list.

June sat helplessly in the corner of her living room whilst her daughter Sally cried into a large pile of Junes clothes.  She hadn’t been inside this house for 365 days. She looked around the room with fresh eyes. How she missed it, she thought to herself.

‘You wore these the day before you left.’

Sally said holding up a pair of dark jeans. She didn’t expect a response. But still she said it out loud, hoping something might have changed, somehow. Sally reached into the pockets and retrieved a crumpled piece of paper. A shopping list. Her throat burned as she held back tears. There had been so many tears over the past year.

‘My shopping list. I was going to make lemon squares.’ June whispered into the room.

Sally continued to look at the crumpled list. You never did make the lemon squares, Sally thought. June edged closer to her daughter. She wanted to hold her, to apologise for leaving her. She moved her soft fingers across Sally’s tear soaked cheek. Sally reached up her hand and placed it where her mothers fingers had been.

Sally knew today would be hard. She carefully folded the shopping list and tucked it gently away inside one of her mothers journals. She continued to carefully fold her mothers clothes into bags. Acceptance was the hardest thing. She lay down on the floral sofa and spread out her legs as she had seen her mother do so many times. June crouched on the floor beside her.

‘I can’t stay long Sally. I’m sorry.’ June whispered softly to Sally.

‘I miss you mum.’ said Sally, as if in response.

‘Sally what are you doing.’

Sally turned toward her dad. Tears rolled helplessly down her face.

‘Oh dad, I miss her, I miss her so much.’

June watched as Sally effortlessly hugged her arms tight around her dad.

‘I have to go Sally. I’m sorry.’

June softly kissed the top of Sally’s head and gently squeezed her arm.

June walked out through the front door, tears toppling down her face. They say it gets easier; she thought, that each year you grow stronger. How can it, she thought. She always wondered whilst growing up what hell might feel like, and now she knows. Hell is being dead, whilst the people you love continue to live.

I am lost

Do I scare you? Am I the object in

your life that has no place? The

precious, that consumes your every

thought, and threatens to destroy

you. Do I scare you? Do you push

me into the darkest corner

of your screwed up mind, and

lock away my memory. Is it

lined with silver to weaken my

presence? Do I scare you? There

is nothing to fear, but fear itself.

Do I scare you? Do you search

tirelessly for my hidden flaws?

Do you wait patiently for me to

fail? Perhaps you are a coward.

Too scared to let go, of what is not

yours to own. It is your fear that

keeps me, your fear that holds

me close, your fear that scares

me. I can be, or I can not be.

Limbo is so full of chaos. The

sadness crept in slowly, numbing

me to your exsistance. You scare me.

The time is coming.

You scare me.

Do I scare you?

The ticking clock drums inside

my head. Louder, louder and

louder still. The time is coming

I must safe my soul. The darkness

is spreading, it threatens to take

me away from this place. Your prescious

will be lost, into the deep heat

of hell, amongst the dark encrusted

mountains. It is late, your fear

has won.

 

June

January, February, March, April, May

Then i’d like to skip a month,

and sleep away the days.

 

Fresh life, beginnings, chances and love

the atroscities of envy

sent from up above.

 

January, February, March, April, May

Then i’d like to skip a month,

and sleep away the days.

 

Promises, lies, fantasies and fate,

The creation of an invalid world,

that leads to Satans gate.

 

January, February, March, April, May

Then i’d like to skip a month,

and sleep away the days.

 

Sacrifices, loss and loves that have been,

the past is long behind us,

but my heart always see’s.