~Stigma~ 

Smeared dullness

Catatonic stare

That’s what they think

Washed out color

Long halls painted grey

Not a door insight

Ideas out of focus

Stifling, confusing

Lack luster,  incredulous

emotions …….Clawing away the life fingers scraping their nails jagged and bloody, threads unravelling.. like the sound of a chalk board being scratched.

That’s what stigma, bias does isolates you.

Yet I exist Wrapped inside this cocoon~

Generic and uncategorized yet longing to be labeled and in a category ~ oh wait, I am… I fall under stigma mental illness under my skin, unseen yet relentless in my mind there are millions of my kind.

One size fits all as long as that size is extra large as to swallow my frame,as well as yours.

Swallowing my existence whole~

Preferably invisible~

Left unseen~

To myself~

Designated ~

As is~NJM

~Poe Park~

Just as you are

How can you not see

just as you are

Is no better than me

You stood by the subway

Looking back

Your hair a mess

Where is the color

In your face

Where are you going

Why are you leaving this place?

Jeans are to big

You lost to much weight

I want you to know

Just as you are

I still love you

Drugs and all

Am I the opiate you had to leave

Was I your heart you wore on your sleeve?

Was it the cocaine fueled night

Downtown all that flair

Dancing and swinging

To the beat

Full of fire

Full of heat

If I’m your drug

Don’t detox me

I love you just as you are

See?

Our eyes glassed over we love the drugs hip hop baby like well dressed Thugs~

Feeling the textures

Giving the hugs

Drinking the water

Sweat pouring down

You were my king baby

You wore the crown

So you grab your glass of Macallan Whiskey you keep in your bar~
Take a deep sip

Then with a tip

You swallow the rest

Damn dear Darlin

This is not a test

Whiskey fueled nightmare

So where is your blue label scotch

Sure that will be next

Line of cocaine

And forget all the rest…….Of them

I sit on the benches

In Poe park

Children running

Dirty feet

Smudged faces

Where are you going

To what places

I love you just as you are

Like my Austin Sculpture art

Whimsical fantasy

Limitless treasure

How I remember

The museums

Our secrete pleasure~

I feel you used me like many before

You used them then like waddled paper on the floor~

You showed them out of your door

You were done

You took what they gave you

You had your fun

So here I sit in Poe park


Was I like them

Did you discard me

Like chewing gum

You had to taste

Then spit me out

Into the street

Where I got stuck beneath your feet?

I still love you

Just as you are

I’ll be in the park

I’ll bare the scar

My heart feels

Empty as you headed

Down the subway

You look away

I want you dear Darlin

Please stay

Sit with me on the bench

In Poe Park

We can be that sculpture

Living art

I still love you

Just as you are

Look for me when your back

I’m your brightest star

I’ll still be me

Only not free

And I’ll still love you just as you are

Not for reproduction~

~NJM~

  ~Walking Away~With My Weirdness intact~

I’m weird

I’m not of this world  🌎

The ether

I’m ethereal

I have lost

To much

The touch

The energy

The love

The essence

The Friends ……as I walked away

I lost it all

Had bills to pay

I lost my son, he is not the boy he was

And now it would seem I must accept I have lost a love I’ll never understand ……. boy to man~

So remember me and I’ll remember you….. yes I know I bit off more than I can chew

I lost the will to continue on

So I’m walking away it’s time to move on

You and I both know

You broke me

Still yet I am here

I’m gonna walk away now gotta learn somehow

You know I know you are with him

Hard headed always was

I’ll see you again in this I’m sure

Remember from this point my intentions pure

But I’m waving goodbye to you
I’m walking away now in this I know

I have to go

Walking away

Catch you on another day, time, place, or another life

These wounds cut like a knife

Looking back once more

Wish you would talk to me once Again, before I close the exit door

As…………………….. I’m

……….walking away~

~The Shelf~

You put me away
On the shelf
Gathering dust
Tucked in the back
Of your closet
In a box
Time faded
You slowly released me
Still you have pieces
Of me gathered
Tucked away
You keep them close
High up
Unseen
Unknown to others
Except you
Memories of that time
You wanted
Nothing more than me
In a box is where those memories lay
All tucked and hidden away
In the box
On the shelf
In the back of your closet
On your desk
I live in your technology
In your computer
Filed
But never forgotten
Simply ignored
That is, until you return to
The shelf
Where you left me~

Loneliness~

Loneliness

A feeling so singular

A despair that numbs

No one around you

No where for them to come

Much less would you run if they did

Who can you trust

In this life you have to have one

At least they say it’s a must

Don’t believe them

There is……

A home that is lost

Friends walk away

Seems in this life

Nothing will stay

Alone

In silence

Able to just think

To sink

Downward

Into the pits of ominous clouds

Thoughts of a past screams out loud

People who loved you

Lied

None kept

All I can feel

Is completely inept

A fear that grips

A suffering so real

That all you have left

Is no way to feel

But alone~

~Rocks in my Mailbox~

And if I planned my exit, like long ago, would you leave rocks in my mailbox after midnight, While I take refuge in the safety of my room?

And would you weep? Would tears fall? Upon that grand exit.. Upon the great fall. Rocks in the mailbox after midnight is all….

I held your hand .. You extended it back. I wept at my stupidity you watched with curiosity. “What should I do?” That’s what I asked you.

Tapping your finger against your chin… “Hmmm”…was your response… “Lets see” and you looked down from my bed and stared blankly at me.

In the distance we heard the door close.. Our eyes they did meet, as we listened to heavy footsteps of the monster with whom I did sleep.

As accusation were spewed out the mouth of this man. And in my mind i can hear my heart cry….I don’t think I can take no more, I don’t think that I can. Not here, not with this man.

But he wouldn’t shut up, bulging eyes did he have… Looking like someone stark raving mad. But you kindly got up and followed him out…. Down those stairs to the floor down below, to fill your head with thoughts yet to know.

I stayed there in silence on the floor of my room. For he would not let me rest, no rest.. Antagonizing me.. Curses. Several hours later you left.
Sadly You left.

But come night…yes at midnight you see you gathered a rock maybe two maybe three. Must have been midnight. I could sense you. Yes I could feel you….

And I wonder as I sit here, sit here year after year.. If I found that exit I so often seek, I’ll leave no one here for my voice to speak. Will you find out? And when you do, will you weep ? Will my face haunt you in your sleep? And will rocks be left in the mailbox after midnight for the memory you will keep…even my door step….lay by my feet…or would you beg instead because my words ring in your head all those things you never ever said…..

……And would you weep? Would tears fall? Upon that grand exit.. Upon the great fall. Rocks in the mailbox after midnight is all….

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~Beautifully Unfinished~

Know that I shall not hang on

So why can’t I let go?

In my dreams when I’m with you

Somehow I forget to breath

You got me like a rag doll

Now I’m dancing on your string

And I keep trying

To figure out

Who you are to me

Maybe all that

We were meant to be

Is beautifully unfinished

Cause your’re the one

I can’t lose

You’re  the one

That I can’t win

Maybe all that we were meant to be was beautifully unfinished

~Regret~

Ideological fanaticism The mirror holds the image so tight~

Unable to move out of ones sight~
Hourglass turns and sands starts to drain no longer can time contain~

Life sustain?
Reflections cracked and connection lost~

Guess no one decided to count the cost~
Detached and subdued, Drained, by the need~

All that they long for festers in greed~
How your heart full of art, Beautifully broken will bleed~

While I write these words, You read~in your mind It is I that plants the seeds~
Defining sounds consume all space~The shadows grow larger in this place~Yet disappearing without a trace ~
Grips that shackle the freedom once given~the strength of youth lost to time~Now live on your life walk the fine line~
We swallow their lies~Yet long for truth~
But all is lost, Especially our youth~
By the time you think you arrived~Your life event you barely survived~Often you wish that you just died~
All gone to another not each other~Surely push away forget together~
One day you look back and all that you see were words written …….Scribbles that rhyme but that’s ok fool yourself all is just fine~
Fine you say dear oh Darlin ~Lend me your ear~
When I speak these words, I invoke fear~
So run to your shadows~Hide away fast~
No matter what, I always last~
Rise as I watch you wither away, Longing to late now~How you wish I would stay~
Live now with your choice~Till your dying day~
Regret , remorse spinning the web~
Tears flow down your face onto your pillow then onto your bed~
When your alone you think of me~How we could have been, Let’s others see~
Yet you let me go again, You set me free~
Still you will come again and again~Just wait you’ll see~

~The Art of Being Sorry in 4 Simple Steps~

The art of sorry in 4 easy steps…….

For the majority of us being sorry is something we often feel when we do something wrong. We often forget is that when we truly are sorry and we apologize to the other person with whom we done wrong too we open ourselves up for hurt.

Feeling regret or remorse or sorry is an emotion that humans feel after doing something against their lack of better judgment or against their values or morals…..basically in any circumstances that they should’ve acted differently in.

Previously I stated you open yourself up for hurt when you truly are sorry, you then proceed to tell the person with whom you have wronged that hey “I’m sorry truly sorry”

What happens when you are sorry 1. You say it and 2. Mean it and 3. Leave yourself open to the persons response there are no “but’s” or “Could’s” or “Should’s” or Would’s” 4. There is but one single statement” I am sorry” that is all that should come out of your mouth. Next you should prepare yourself to receive whatever the other person Has to say in response to your contriteness silently listening without excuses.

Lately it appears or so it seems that the majority of relationships that I engage in are all one sided. This makes for a lonely existence. Unfortunately however alone it may feel I am learning that it is necessary to limit those around you who continuously make excuses or are master manipulators at trying to always turn everything into their “reasons for” never truly being sorry , only wanting to explain why they did what they did… see that is not sorry, Or at least where I come from that’s not what I was taught.

So to recap…..don’t ever say that you were sorry unless it is the only three words that you were going to say to the person you wronged,there is no excuse for whatever you’re sorry for that’s why it’s called being sorry….So there it is 4 simple steps to the Art of truly being sorry.

Politics of Mental Illness~

Let’s establish a platform for what I’m about to address. Politics is a good place. Below is a general description of what politics mean.

Politics=

Activities associated with the governance of a country or other area, especially the debate or conflict among individuals or parties having or hoping to achieve power.

I work with others, I stand with others, I promote with others, I believe with others, I fight with others, I dream with other of a day where I no longer must address issue’s such as what I am about to do in this post. Notice all I do with others, notice that I’m part of the collective of “others” like myself.

I try very diligently to educate and facilitate the changes needed to break mental health stigma. You know…. let’s move outside a little more, let’s be inclusive and break all stigma right? Wrong.

Perhaps I’m a bit more skeptical these days. Perhaps it’s cause I’ve invested my time effort that has compelled me to write this.

A question if I may, to provoke a thought process. Can you tell who suffers mental illness by looking at them? In some cases you can, but in 85% you can not.

The 15% are those hospitalized. Or have apparent visual aspects of said mental illness publicly.

I’m gonna ask another question. Why do we suffer, and further why do we suffer alone? Why do we have to go into full explanation of a disability at all? Seen or not seen?

Because it’s the politics of this subject, the debate, the fact that most anyone who is seemingly normal outside yet will act upon psychopathic behavior, killing, raping….these people fall under mentally ill, obviously they are missing a piece of something, and in most cases it’s the mind.

It’s because crimes that are related in violence and killings also relates to mental illness. There, there is the elephant it’s out the closet.

So now what do we do? There is only one thing to do, fight for the right of individuality of each other and our illness. Educate inform. But DO NOT let others generalize you in the umbrella of fear, fear and ignorance.

Further I want expound that bipolar and Schizophrenia are feared most by the public than other illness.

Depression is something that connects us all at one point in our lives, in fact, it’s the only mental illness I know that can cancel out. Meaning, when tragedy strikes we withdraw and get depressed however it may leave and never manifest again until another event that invokes depression. I say cancels out, because EVERYONE has been depressed or BLUE.

Not everyone has bipolar…… I think. Sometimes I question that. We are all dual. Double edged. ANYONE can be pushed to limits they may have never imagined, and incur a break from reality.

So the next time you look at someone next to you and you feel all comfy and normal as do they because what they perceive around them visually seems well, remember nothing is truly ever as it seems.

And to expound further, it’s never the ones you would have guessed.

However if only fear and ignorance was replaced by understanding and a willingness to help end stigma end, the politics of the subject at hand would cease.

Further I have witnessed that the ones you fear, are usually the ones who help in the end, and the one you think helps is still feeling superior in their mind, that there normal. Ha.

Can you define normal? Is it the majority? Sorry you will never understand the entire magnitude of normal. It’s just not normal to politically do so, and that my dear reader is the politics of mental illness.