it is over the fun depleted - back down to Earth with a smack - gravity it was always going to bring us to reality reality - deny heart and happiness emotionally they take up too much room to keep other people content - do as they wish for love, for peace for knowing there is little else that can be afforded your well-ordered world could be thrown into chaos and for fear of change, opening a wound recoil and stay silent. Kate (C)
from behind glass – detached – small interactions – shops, pub, coffee shop etc. alone, slow tears – writer – essays – memories – neighbours – noises – trying to avoid contact
I don’t know if this was intended to be a poem or a story outline.
The egg dried onto the metal of the frying pan. It sat in the sink, capturing the drips of the tap. It seemed to sum up her depression so. Every time she thought about cleaning, she could only stand at the sink and join in with the tap’s weeping.
i have always lost the friends i made - lost, as if they were like socks or ballpoint pens was it me, i would ask am i so bad at being a friend i am not worthy of that others seem to attach, assimilate into groups without any effort seem to fit in and i would be so conscious of saying the wrong thing, of staring too long or not making eye contact like an exam i am learning that it was never because i was weird / too much / not enough / just ‘cuz some kids don’t know any better
I often wonder if I had known I was autistic much earlier, if I grew up in a world where differences were respected and didn’t carry so much stigma and weight, if I hadn’t felt that this was normal and I simply had to toughen up (it’s a lot, I know) Would I loathe myself so much less, would I be a happier and healthier adult? Would I feel less like an imposter and more like me?
the shopping centre is being assembled - filled with brands - restaurants and chain stores that will not feed or clothe - nor welcome the rough sleepers that are nestled in the shop doorways around this building ‘they’re all addicts’ ‘they make more money in a day than we do in a week’ they haven’t anywhere to call home we all have our vices yours you are able to hide behind a front door
Wrote this during NANOWRIMO a year, 2 years ago maybe? Not sure about the last lines. But the sentiment remains.
If you are able to Shelter Centrepoint and Crisis are charities that help people who are struggling and welcome donations.
Poetic Insights