“Lovely Psychosis” – directions for survival as a poem.

Posted on by meltingneurons
Boy, psychosis was one hell of a drug - courtesy of The Plaid Zebra.
All credit to The Plaid Zebra for this image.

Once there was optimism to see silver laced clouds
till the world shook on its axis and decidedly bowed.
Psychosis (they say) is to go quite insane,
lose touch with reality, but they never mention the pain.
When all that is true breaks at the seams,
life becomes survival, desperation and screams.
Mistrusting your judgement since all you see is false,
no more gut feelings to rely on, you’ve got to just halt.
Buried beneath the weight of taunting monsters and more,
the theories roll, there is no staunching it despite how you implore.
Eventually, the doctor will finally take note,
through terror laced tears you sought out help and hope.
The medicine works! That’s great, saves the day,
the 50lb weight gain, well at least you’re not in a grave.
Time will return that the world is no longer asunder,
blessed peace will come back, beautiful and quiet as thunder.
There isn’t much that the mind cannot do,
it a remarkable system when it runs smooth.
So if you find yourself in that darkest of nights,
keep hold of your love and never stop searching for light.
Psychosis is agony, there’s no hiding it,
vulnerability is the solution though surrendering seems amiss.
Give trust to those that care about you,
seeing through their eyes might keep you from the thorazine zoo.
Recognize, none of us perfection incarnate,
schizo or not we all have a life to live well and stories to make.

Day 11 (The Feel of Psychosis) – 30 Day Writing Challenge

Posted on by meltingneurons
Psychosis, when you’re a shadow of what you once were.

Hesitation on the edge of perfection while the wind whips back past the lips of despair and a trajectory that ends splatted on the rocks below. A momentary pause for God knows what reason, soliloquy rattling like unquenched armor inside a skull aching for reasons and meaning.

No jovial tone to be found other than the laughing hysteria that comes choked off with a seemingly endless parade of tears. Coughing, bawling, howling, begging, giggling into the yawning darkness and discontent of a reality set to dissolve beneath the weight of a mind misfiring badly.

The beautiful tableau awash in sunlight and a fucking million possibilities all riots against that creeping sensation that “all is not what it seems”. A centipede who can no longer walk because he thought about how he did it. Natural instinct sold out into chained slavery inside the boundaries of nothing and infinity. Conjured by poisons and released by fears it’s set loose as a hungry behemoth on the landscape of mind, the carvings of soul, the sculpture of heart.

Hesitation on the edge of perfection with the barest sliver of hope overcoming resignation. Nothing is ever as it seems, and the worst of the world today may become the most redeemed beauties of tomorrow. Shake off the terror and walk into the fire to be forged anew.

The edge of perfection recedes against hope. Time slips forward into the next scene.

Kickstarted

Posted on by meltingneurons
Expanded and unwound mind.

Deviation with a shame filled walk,

it’s plasma bubbles in a tank of thought,

where they merged and had my sanity trapped,

nuclear pendulum of massive dis-ease was the fact.

Now nebulous and scantily clad is my sight,

but I’ll find my way home though it be darkest of night.

Incredulous that it’s less real than a dream,

where logic ends, existence is black and cracks at the seams.

So pour me a round of that stuff they drink down,

that liquid ignition to confidence where rests a crown.

Smoldering with intent and delusions not realized,

kickstart your mind until it swims to the beat of life’s song.

Musings from the Borderlands (BPD)

Posted on by meltingneurons

Tuberculosis in those gasping fits of indulgent wheezes spraying the viscous life goo out in a spray. A misting of not so mild proportions even if the emotional fluid is less clingy initially than blood, it still latches on and shows up in the worst of spots.

The time you decided to gauge your ears and that a pen was the logical jump – pressure couldn’t hold back the infection, or the stable nutrient sludge from leaving a heavy velvet trail down the side of your neck.

Pressure can’t hold back everything, it builds on itself until there’s a raucous and feverish exhalation as the balance shifts and pop there goes the cap.

Just so with love in the quieter stages of a new relationship where urgency tears apart at your genitals, your heart, your mind, and all you want to do is sleep and talk and fuck and cuddle and touch and gaze and there’s a missing component sitting at the back of your mind whenever you’re not around the object of your infatuation soon to beget something more….

It’s an incredible array of emotions that comprise us as people in this world, so much so that the involuntary act of vomiting up a tempest of undigested feels and such onto another can be as easily described in the lead in as something detestable, rather than beautiful.

I know I like to think to that moment when the dam breaks and truest of joys radiates in a way that lets energy ripple its way across the lips and my skin seems to be afire with passionate rightness….love, or anger, sometimes they can be dual sides to the same ride, a peaceful lake to a jet boat ride or some such adrenaline rush.

But man, when I look into those eyes.

I still melt.

Prevarication

Posted on by meltingneurons
Lies and lies.

Populated pupils and dilated docility,

Give kindness your word beast won’t you?

If not for my sake then for saving humanity.

Complicating compilations adjusting advocations,

The linguistic touch of verbal salve,

Leads to mental second looks of doubt with postration.

Vivisect volumes while dancing delicately and deft,

Wounded wordsmith of untrusted breath.