I'm trying to remember how I felt when I was well, the choices I wanted to make and how strange it is to recognise that I was actually well once, briefly after the lockdown lifted the refresh and gained perspective I thought at the time these are just the choices you make when you get older but now I know I made them in stability with my head above the clouds. I'm trying to remember and imitate that person hoping this will trick me back to clarity Into a brighter reality but even now I'm sipping water wishing it was beer wishing it was a hip flask in my pocket instead of cream for eyes dried up the curse of springtime comes as clockwork and its strange to me how I've shed more tears for hay-fever than the recent dead I'm guessing that's a wall I haven't hit yet. The only place I know to look is In the bottom of bottles and my body's screaming for me to act on the doubles so I cling to an image of when I was better having conquered the disastrous past.


And now after 20 years my excema is back I guess without knowing I'm holding a lot in and this is how it has to come out through the skin blistering with words kept within
Feels like all excuses are wearing thin covering me just enough to brace against the wind to shelter me from comments made by those out on a limb
No one has a solid base
An image which to form their face
Just Rehearsed reactions
Token supportive actions
Well meant but mostly distractions
Well i need Less escapism, more extraction
There such things that go unnoticed
An item out of place within a fridge
How much milk your putting in
The light on in the middle of the day
The body's slow decay
A tiny switch clicked in the brain
But nothing immediate changed
At least that's how it seemed
And now I fear I've had this dictating over me
For months now
I would never have known if not for a glorious sunset, the kind that lifts and makes day
I stared at it emotionless, I caught myself
This sunset made It dawn on me that I've been racing through life numb
The skin now so thick from past that it didn't even hit me. My protective machine mind has been working me for months and I haven't watched one sunrise or sunset, wrote anything down instead the creative expression converts to aging on my face it's clear now that my favourite beer is missing from the fridge because I haven't bothered to buy it, machines don't taste, machine don't waste on frivolity. Machines don't tire, don't stop to appreciate beauty.



I'm forcing down the water
I'm taking scenic routes
Trying to remember healthy parts of me that liked to read books
Trying to give myself a minute
Take a breath to clear my head
Surrounding it with nature
Put the machine mind to bed
Trying to control my sense of being
Trying to find a better me
My nature is a wrecking ball
I'm trying not to set it free