Poetry

This is the general category of fuckery that goes on and on and doesn’t seem interested in stopping.

  • I don’t feel safe

    My brother with his anger, for no reason, as if the world abandoned him when he’s had meals every day and a roof over his head and all the luxuries he wants

    And my dad who doesn’t hear a word I say

    It’s like speaking into a microphone that absorbs sound

    It’s like someone punching the wall nearby

    Fuck this

    Screw that

    Kill yourself

    I had a place where I felt at peace

    And it’s gone now

    All I have left is shutting my mouth so my Christian father doesn’t kick me out

    And hearing abuse spoken by my brother that I swear the Universe means for me

    I’m here

    Unemployed so I can’t escape

    I’ve begged every time I could wish

    But I guess it wouldn’t change anything

    I’d still be sleeping with a powderkeg in the next room

    Haven’t been sleeping

    Can’t stay asleep

    And I’m so over tired and my dad has been yelling at his computer and my brother has been yelling at his computer

    And I just want to buy something

    I just want to bandaid this stress and this fear and this uncertainty with buying things

    Can’t

    That whole, not having a job I keep begging the Universe for

    And it’s so gross?

    Because I’m being made to be grateful for this

    Thank god I could move back into this house how lucky I am

    I feel so alone

    I have a friend

    But she’s on the other side of the country and I’m on the back porch crying

    What’s she supposed to do?

    I feel so stuck

    And like I’m moving backward

    I finally knew who I was at home

    Back to masking to appease my family

    It all feels so pointless

    Everything I did for the past fifteen years

    I’m right back here

    Right back where I started with no power, no control

    Afraid of an angry man

    Afraid of losing my home if I misspeak

    I wanted to go home

    I want to go home

    Just don’t ask me where it is

    I don’t know anymore

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  • One of the things that really bothers me that they teach in school

    Is that if someone does something to you, you’re not allowed to “retaliate”

    Retaliate

    It has such a nasty connotation doesn’t it?

    Retaliate

    Not self defense

    Not correcting the behaviour

    Retaliate

    For instance a boy snaps a girl’s bra and she slaps him

    She goes to the principal’s office for “retaliation”

    The boy gets a finger waggled at them

    I brought a stuffy to school in one of my first years in public school

    I really didn’t get it

    That public schools were a literal mad house of children exploiting exhausted adults

    I didn’t expect the boys would take my stuffy and run with it

    And when I chased them to get it back I ended up in the principal’s office for being “aggressive” and told it was my fault for bringing the stuffy in the first place

    When I’d been doing home school since grade 2, never went to kindergarten, and had no idea that wasn’t allowed

    Retaliate

    Against comes next

    Against

    Right? That’s an aggressive stance

    An attack

    Not self defense

    It’s bad and you shouldn’t do it

    They were so wrong

    They didn’t teach these children how to retaliate

    How to utilise your tools to right wrongs that were done against you

    And you know what? If someone is sexually or physically assaulting you physically fighting back is always acceptable

    But they didn’t teach that

    They taught us to accept the bad things done to us and if we were lucky an adult would come in and help

    Without ever warning us that that possible adult would disappear

    That when you’re out on your own, at your job, in your life

    There’s no teacher and the police will be here in half an hour

    They didn’t teach us how to stand up to bullies they told us to ignore them

    They didn’t prepare us for a world where we would be able to fight for ourselves

    Instead they prepared millions of people who would meekly accept most harassment and bullying because that’s what they’d been told to do

    Companies and billionaires can do anything because no one knows how to stand up for the things than matter

    They told us protesting was legal

    Did they ever teach us how to protest?

    Did they ever teach us how to stand up for ourselves?

    No, because they wanted cattle, not foxes

    They wanted swaths of yes men and push overs

    They weren’t preparing children for university.

    We had to be retaught how to write an essay in English 101

    Most 101 classes were reteaching what primary and secondary school fucked up

    And, of course, I now know what they knew but never said outloud

    Most of those kids won’t finish secondary school,

    They weren’t readying us for higher learning

    They were readying us to be good, compliant, minimum wage workers

    Your cities are run by kids who were told they were getting more out of life than they did

    They were told they would be something and now Donna with the bitch cut tells them their place in society because she feels shitty about her life

    It’s that whole sick “turn the other cheek” mentality

    All Jesus proved with that is that doing so will result in you being tortured and then put on a cross

    Dumbest philosophy in all of fucking history

    No, no

    If someone pushes you?

    You get up and push back.

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  • I have to be here to prove to others that they can be here

    Prove that your mind can be the darkest place and you can still persevere

    I keep seeing other people with my mental illnesses fall

    Retraumatised over the loss

    I always wonder why I was left here

    What right I have to be here over them

    Why there wasn’t a miracle for them

    Why I was able to take an entire bottle of naproxen and half a bottle of ibuprofen and live

    Why my overdose was just me passing out and a weird dream

    Why did cosmic timing not favour them?

    Why am I here?

    Well it was all about telling my story until I died but then I didn’t

    And I will shoulder their pain as they fall and keep proving that it’s terrifying and awful but we can do this

    That I’m a split in half being who barely comprehends this world

    Trapped in a body that hates me with a brain that tries to kill me

    But I can fucking do this

    This will not be a story that ends with a whimper in the darkness

    Even if no one sees it

    Even if probably there are AI out there reading it and stealing my style (who knows maybe that’s why they’re all deranged)

    But, damn it

    I want to persist

    I want to be a thorn in the side of every institution that tries to walk all over humanity

    Even if it never gets recognition

    Existing and being a voice of descent is still being a knob in their pudding

    Be a knob in their pudding

    Be a body of descent

    You never know I bet you someone over history has had a knob in their pudding

    And didn’t like it

    Existing is sometimes painful

    And I’m not talking about the background of pain that just is my existence

    My emotions are painful

    They erupt from inside me

    I feel them so completely and it hurts

    Even joy

    It becomes too much for me

    Writing has been a good tool

    Typing furiously for a bit

    Spitting all the poison I wouldn’t actually say somewhere where I can say, yikes

    But it felt good to get it out

    I wonder how much I owe to that little intrusive thought

    Write through every panic attack

    I still remember it so clearly

    Nothing else about the moment but the words

    Just gotta hang in there however you can

    We are each of us a child of the gods, burning bright with the passion of a star who once shone

    It’s kind of like that book I never wrote

    About how the world was divided by emotional beings and less emotional beings

    Except in mine the emotional ones were the ones who had become corrupt and were oppressing the less emotional people

    And the world had to be saved by a gay mixed “race” couple that lived in the sewers

    But it’s similar

    The way people with strong emotions are demonized

    But, obviously, I recognise that it can go both ways

    This world needs balance like Christians need Jesus

    But we persist

    We must persist

    I don’t want to be a statistic

    I will not be a statistic

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  • Happenstance fuck you for a moment

    I’m trying to have a serious conversation here

    Life is hard

    We make it harder on eachother

    One second you feel safe somewhere and the next you don’t anymore

    When I feel emotions

    Sometimes it feels like I’m exploding from the inside

    But things like being safe

    They slip away so easily

    Just like that you’re just someone on the outside of it

    Reduced to nothing and no one again

    I’m rarely a first priority

    But the ease with which I slip out of spaces has always broken my own heart

    The difference between belong and don’t belong

    It’s so easily traversed

    I don’t want to be the person they want me to be

    And I am nothing again

    I wonder what it feels like to be right?

    What it feels like to fit in?

    Maybe they do understand

    Maybe that laugh was understanding and not derision

    Different from everyone else

    Just kind of came into existence

    I wonder why we’re here

    Does anyone else listen for you?

    Seek your touch?

    Sometimes I feel like my existence is an insistance on others

    I do not feel I fit in here even with my rage and my disappointment

    How could a god’s child ever find themselves here?

    Not good enough

    Not hard enough

    Where to fit?

    I feel unknown

    And like it will always be that way

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  • I don’t particularly want to dislike people

    I’m feel no pleasure from not liking someone else’s actions

    I always end up feeling like I don’t fit in

    Every space has its own kind of cruelty

    If I had the option to exist without causing harm to anything ever

    I would do it

    Everything seems so innocent until it comes into contact with something else

    My something else is other humans

    I hate judging people

    It leaves a sick feeling in my stomach

    There’s always gossip though

    There’s always ridicule for no good reason

    And me not feeling comfortable in a space because there’s always a target

    It’s never consequential

    I don’t know why my comfort is never important

    I don’t know why they say these things about eachother in places the people being spoken about can’t defend themselves

    I started “lame” gossiping

    I just agree with whatever the person gossiping says and then don’t say it to anyone else and if anyone asks I just didn’t feel like starting a fight

    Because people dislike you if you won’t gossip with them and then will turn the gossip on you

    I’d prefer to talk about what we like about people

    And then go back to those people and tell them about the lovely conversation we were having about them

    Bravely tell them all the things we love about them that just came up in conversation

    Positive reinforcement is not just for non-human animals

    You’d think we’d be smart enough to see our own similarities amongst creatures we are related to

    Bah

    In this quiet place where I hide my contempt for this world

    And my love for the planet

    I am so good at judging humanity as one big blob

    But individuals are frequently so beautiful

    But our insides

    This place is as close to what it’s like inside my head as anything

    Frequently I write my initial feelings and then go on puzzling and change my mind

    Frequently my anger is its own thing and I don’t feel that prickly in person

    Is every human a different world inside themselves?

    Like I am?

    A shadow of myself in front of others for my own safety?

    Not all I suppose

    Some people feel safe on this planet

    I wish we spoke words as beautiful as the Earth is

    That we only quaked when it was needed

    I wish that we spoke love and not poison into existence

    I wish I still loved humanity

    It’s not hard to love individuals

    But I don’t know what hope we have when it’s been 2000+ years and we still speak so negatively all the time

    Animals have evolved traits that keep them alive in an increasingly difficult environment in that time

    We still pick hate over love over and over again

    I don’t know

    I just wish I found somewhere that I fit

    Where there isn’t toxic positivity nor toxic negativity

    Where we accept that sometimes stuff is shitty and we talk about the shitty stuff

    But we also don’t tear people down

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  • I have this fantasy where I run away

    Just away

    That everything goes right and I’m free

    I’m assuming all my disabilities just cease to exist for this to happen

    I just walk away

    But where always becomes a question

    Where is better than here?

    A tiny town where I’m the only queer person but at least there’s an actual forest nearby?

    Any number of cities where I wouldn’t fit as much as here

    Everything is so disgustingly predictable

    And I’m sick of seeing things coming from a mile away and screaming at the locals to run and being called insane

    But, thanks to the internet, the locals are everywhere

    Thousands of times I’ve said what will happen to be called crazy

    And this isn’t the psychic crap

    Psychic was predicting the wars happening, back in 2018, with no context

    I just see patterns

    It’s all so

    These events around me

    Why does it have to be so typical?

    Why can’t someone surprise me and actually do something?

    And when can I stop feeling like the someone is supposed to be me when I have no power?

    By the time I had wormed enough power to do enough to help I’d be one of them

    Why doesn’t anyone else have this sick sense in them like things should be different?

    I shouldn’t say anyone

    Why don’t enough anyones feel this way?

    Why is there a great wall of disinterest in anyone’s eye who could do anything?

    Why is there never a successful champion of those that need?

    And I don’t know how to be what you need me to be

    I want to run away and be someone new who doesn’t feel these responsibilities I cannot fulfill

    I feel like I’m standing before a great beast who expects me to overcome them to succeed

    If you wanted it a better way why is violence written in the path that brought humanity to realisation?

    Did you create us in your image and then want us to be different from you?

    Suffering isn’t written in your insides

    Struggle is

    Danger

    Violence

    Your potential is our potential

    Or do you wish us to be beyond you?

    Should we be your successors?

    Love

    I’m not sure you made it

    But you are made of it

    Like it just had to exist because of you

    I wish we could each be you

    As knowing and understanding

    I wish we had the compassion of a gentle breeze blowing by to touch your face so you’re not alone

    Knowing that in each body is a soul that feels

    Even if they’re not all the same

    Understanding that each person is a reaction to their life experience

    That those reactions are visceral and personal

    Understood that capacity is individual

    That a world with less harm would create more chances for joy

    And that hatred is wrong

    It’s hard

    I struggle with it when words are slicing through me

    I am nothing beside you

    And yet you almost go less noticed than I do

    Massive yet unseeable

    See-able but insufficient

    If I could run

    I wish I could run to a place where I could meet you face to face

    I wonder what face the faceless would have?

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