Smile it's infectious
I'm on my arse I don't want to be I have no control over my thoughts my time, my day. I can't escape or even choose a medium to feel better I'm also adjusting to a new drug; more promises I'm tired and no one is getting the best of me even more sadly for… Continue reading On my Arse
I had forgotten all about you How has life been for you? It’s all coming back to me now It never quite worked out somehow But I’m happy to see you again. We were meant to spend time We were supposed to share a bottle of wine I’m glad it all worked out for… Continue reading Missed Opportunities
I don’t know which way to turn I don’t know what books to burn I don’t know anything at all Don’t place me in a society I have to work on my sobriety I have to stop taking drugs at all I don’t have the key to the door I didn’t want to start a… Continue reading Society
I arrived at seven and was home by ten thirty Didn’t know it yet I’d soon feel lost deranged and dirty The demon allowed me to sleep til 3 Then roared and flung up the mattress and me I was dying I’ve been dying for a year and a half My night of hell and… Continue reading My Night of the Long Knives
Who is speaking to you? The words leave my lips but who formed them? Don't presume it's me and if you can't begin to understand that perhaps I need not talk to you anymore There are three of me all battling for the floor It is deeper than a mood change I have no control… Continue reading Show’s Over
You will never get near stigma's end if we don't include those who are on the receiving end. No more empty gestures that tick boxes Asking me where my stress ends and my diagnosis begins is proof that stigma is alive or well. Like a rainbow of hell in a storm
exhausted difficult to see a change feel my age feel mentally falling away no control over anything unable to catch the day and physically I'm on a twenty four hours rollercoaster. The fun has gone after 5 minutes the rest is hell
I fall in love with you all over again the delicate fabric holds perfectly, every inch of you that I hold dear Had I stopped seeing it? I think not. Yet it screamed at me as you negotiated the two buttons that guard underneath you. A special place The garment accentuates your beauty you hold… Continue reading Lingerie
The man attempts to make sense of his forty-odd years of graft in 18 black bin bags. Type without the yellow drawstring. A deliberate last act of 'fuck you' because they are so hard to carry. Every emotion the man ever had are evident in those bags. Long decisions at clothes rails in department stores… Continue reading Survival of a disappointed Life pt. 2
Sometimes I wonder how much life can throw at you in one day Covid, a stroke, a relationship break up and another trip to hospital for your 15 month daughter.l Life’s arrow-mum, dad and two daughters I can’t process this whilst negotiating my lithium and the rest One ball knocked all my loved ones down
Mark Lyth 