“Rest is best, such beneficial benediction. Resting from illness, resting from the world. I love to shut myself away, to rest my wounded heart. Yet it brings on a mouldy conditioning, decaying into my own lament. Sleep is always a release, yet sometimes I wake and cannot tell if I am waking or still dreaming. If I notice you are there, then I know it is a sweet dream. The kind that taste like chocolate in your mouth, a marshmallow in your heart. Sweet and delicious, I become addicted. It’s the nightmares that correct this headiness, stomping through my mind like a trampling dinosaur out for prey. I toss and turn, wrestling with the darkness, slipping in and out of something which I’m still unsure of.
Then the ringing began, buzzing through my skull like tap dancing crocodile teeth…..”
The mouse that roared
My mouth is full of blood, from biting my tongue so much.
The teeth are stained a crimson, like I’m a vampire.
What’s this now, be good, play nice? Do not shove the other kids in the park!
I never did, it was they who shoved me.
Colour inside the lines now, no need for flashy colours.
Subservient or spineless, which definition do you prefer?
You leave me here with a doormat face, ready for you to walk your muddy boots across my soul.
I am sorry, the end has come.
Do not be surprised by the mouse that roared, or the tiger that sprang from the jungle that you thought was never there.
You put it here, you did this.
I’m not going to apologise for being myself.
We cannot turn back the clock that ticks away annoyingly.
You cannot leave with this all over me.
Place me in the bell jar, the nut house, or the graveyard.
Tickle my bones with your superiority, and your need to be right.
Only god will judge me, and he’ll give me his chair to rest while I catch my breath.