Surreal and unknown

Bordering the mystical

You’re so far away.

There are a few very simple rules

If you should want to be creative

Firstly you should be left-handed

For everyone knows left handers are more creative

More artsy

In touch with their abstract side

It’s in the genes.

Second - Synesthesia.

A strong form too

For the reasons you create

Will have much more ‘soul’

As proven in real scientific studies.

And last, most importantly,

Depression! A must have

For nothing is ever meaningful

If it weren’t telling the ugly side

The darker nature.

Who wants those lighthearted

Sickeningly sweet production

For they’re sure to be fake.

And there it is

If you fit those criteria,

Be free, express yourself!

But if not,

Save us all the embarrassment - 

You’re sure to fail anyway.

I realise that I take bleeding too literally

Yet how can I see it any other way?

A small change

All that it takes

And I’m there in my dark place again.

Wondering when this happened

How I’ve accepted it

The need for approval.

Is it your right to tell me

What to do with my body?

When you take what you want

And leave me in pieces, hurt

And you say I can’t do that to myself.

How can you dictate

What is right and what is wrong?

I am just an intermediate species,

Everchanging,

Unrecognisable

From the beginning.

I am the step toward

A better me

Stronger

Fitter.

I am a defected mutation

Disastrous

Deletrious

A rare but fatal mistake.

I am what evolution fears

A standby parasite

With no desire for life.

I am separate

A plucked flower

Life lost

But no outward signs (as of yet)

Still a hint of perfume

Surrounding me

But dress me up

I’ll be the prettiest little thing (for a while)

For you to show off

“Beautiful!”, “Marvelous!” They’ll say

As if there was any talent

Until I am released

One day too late

Unceremoniously dumped

Slowly disintegrate

And forgotten.

Lace me up so tight

That I can’t breathe and my bones break

Maybe a different kind of suffering

Will suffice.

For what is my own

Compared to that of yours?

And I cringe at the thought

Of my words being seen

(In eyes trained as yours)

Trying to pass it off

Each unfinished piece of art.

They’re all in the past

Where they’ll only fade away

Heart does not forget

There’s a kind of sadness

That dwells deep in the heart

It leaves you happy on the surface

But ever-present is the darkness

Rising up whenever it can

To consume the mind

In one fell swoop

Where is the escape? I cannot see

The fear and tension blinding

And the alluring, seductress

Whispering all my hopes and dreams

To the way it was before

So suggestive

Why am I refusing?

My clouded mind wonders

Why do I suffer when it’s all so easy to fix?