Psyched

Fucking fob

Fucking fob…

The little yellow thing

you’re supposed to wear around your neck

to let you in your room.

The irony of this

is you forget everything

My memory is fucked

And everything sucks

Life on earth is the little green gates

Which I slumber next to

But people keep me awake

The fob.

Your only key to privacy

‘Knock, knock!’

‘I’m in the loo!’

FFS.

More than likely doing a …

The fob.

Your only key to privacy

‘Knock knock’

Meds.

‘Oh really?’

‘But I’m still in bed :(‘

‘Knock knock’

‘Are you ok?’

‘Fine I say’

but I’ve been crying all day

The staff are so, so kind

But ‘I can see, I can see, I can see I’m going Blind!’

RRRAAAAHHH

‘PRN?’

And sometimes I can’t cry at all

I squeeze my eyes

hoping for something to come out

Maybe I’ve ran out of tears?

Or am I just shell shocked by fear?

I’m waiting for a diagnosis

‘More than likely it’s psychosis’

Fucking fob

Now where is my phone? My card?

Dear God, where is my lighter!?

FFS. 8 times a day.

My little light shines bright.

Burn.

Don’t get me started on the nicotine

Two cigarettes in the morning

The day is dawning

And I’m in mourning…

I forgive myself…

8 cigarettes a day

Fucking fob.

Starbucks.

The end.

Sun, Stars and Skin

Soft sun on my skin

Reminds me of my youth.

A visit from kin,

Brings me joy and growth.

Love and excitement seem far away

But a visit from the Dr. brightened my day.

I know I’m not well and have a lot to learn,

But holding hope in my heart makes me less concerned.

Soft sun on my skin,

It’s the little things in life

That I hold on to to hold back strife

When the sun goes down I look at the stars

And it reminds me of sunlight,

A star like ours.