Like the unforgivable night,


Like the dark thoughts running in my mind,


Like the bone chilling cold,


Like the last breath it stole,


Like the last chance to survive,


Like there is no other way to life,


Why does everything have to be this way?


Why can I not say what I want to say?


Why do I have to change to fit in? 


Why do I have to fight for freedom? 


Why won’t I have a chance at happiness? 


Why is is so difficult to feel less worthless? 


A Chain of Events

An estranged whimper escapes my tongue,
A street of strangers stares me down,
Some politely offer help,
I reject and deny again.
I appreciate your kindness but it could not accommodate me.
I run towards the only peace I know,
The bells sing an hour has gone.
I race up to the helping hands,
Only to be chased away by ants.
Next came the statue of peace,
Where dead soldier lies with liberty.
I can only think back to the time,
Where my friend and I sat discussing life.
Now I am here all alone,
Discussing life on my own.
An old man walks by twice,
Maybe the third time he would ask me why?
It turns my weak bladder control,
Sent me sprinting for toilet rolls.
A half hour left until it close,
A half hour for somewhere to go.

When seven came,
I went back home.
Scared and frightened,
More than before.

When nine came,
I walk in the dark,
An hour long,
All sixty minutes of luck.

When midnight came,
I wrote this down.
Hoping someday possibly one day,
I will never have to count.

A little too late…

It’s such a little thing,
You’ll whisper it in my ear.
You say you’re teaching me,
The ways of life,
And how to speak.
I must be respectful,
To friends and family.

I tell you I am respectful,
I’m welcomed among my peers.
I smiled and greet those strangers,
Whose names I know not yet.
I’ll stay and talk all day,
Until they bore and take their leave.
So I ask this time after time,
How do I disrespect?

You hit me over the head,
And tell me to shut up instead.
Don’t talk back you’ll say,
As tears stream down my cheeks.
This is what I call disrespect,
Picking on the weak.
So I shut up like you said,
Yet you keep bringing it up again.

You say I turn a small problem,
Into a chaotic mess.
But I am not the one,
Stirring up trouble,
Until you can win again.
You arbitrary lies may have convinced you,
But they’ll never distort my view.
You may imprison my body and soul,
But my mind will be free to think.

You say you have the right to abuse me,
And do whatever you please.
Because deep in your heart,
There is no joy or spark,
For the child you once cradled.
You drove me to my mental illness,
You left behind physical scars,
And to this day,
This very day,
You’ve never regretted a single part.

You were suppose to be the people,
Who should love me unconditionally.
The very place I should have received love,
You left me a countless number of scars.
If I had a choice about my birth,
I truly wish you me aborted,
If only I had died in your womb,
A single miscarriage or two.
The most heartbreaking thing I know is,
The painful truth of it all,
You would grief and love the unborn me,
More than you could ever love me.


The power of simplicity is absolutely magical. I wished I was a living version of that. To be honest, I’m quite the judgemental type despite my many flaws. I wish I could be simple and elegant, a piece of plain art with hidden talents. Perhaps if I had any talents it may have been possible. Perhaps.

Those who prove everyone wrong are my strongest inspirations. I aspire to be something of a similar kind. Hope continues to hold onto the belief I may achieve something not easily forgotten one day. One day. Perhaps.

I believe in all sorts of beliefs and at the same time, nothing at all. It is not something I desired to do. I just do. Do. One day. Perhaps.

It all starts out simple. An apple brought the laws of physics to Sir Isaac Newton (Ok, maybe a few billion more brain cells than the average human being helped). Everything starts of simple and evolved from the basis of simplicity. Upon the occurrences of failure, step back to simplicity. The start and basics. Start. Do. One day. Perhaps.

I wasn’t sure where I was going with this, I still don’t.
Keep it simple, don’t fog up the path, what lies ahead will eventually be clear. Simple. Start. Do. One day. Perhaps.

On an unrelated note, here’s a picture of my current journal/diary:


It’s also really late and my internal biological clock has spiralled out of control.
Until next time…

– FuturePresentsPast