The Countdown

I know it ain’t supposed to be. But I hurt the ones who get close to me

I ask that you pity not this deflated soul.

For when this lonely world has taken its toll

I will return to a starlight that shines bright in the night sky

Or maybe a madman shilling my own luxuries to all passers-by

I shall return to orange brown and grey like a cold winter’s day

Or to a summer breeze, cooling a flushed red cheek

I account, that beauty surrounds me with each aching breath

Yet when I embrace the morning sun

All that I am, is awaiting death

I must confess another sin,

I fear my friends are blowing in the wind,

As the tree sap dries I hold on to the lies

The fear the anger the hurt the pain

I remained trapped in my broken heart

And fear that forever, I will remain, the same

Note: This poem was first published in Admissions: Voices within Mental Health (Upswell Publishing, 2022)