I feel
Like the jagged edges
Of my innermost sensitivities
Are bare for all to see,
Broken psychological bone,
Piercing emotional skin,
Leaving me raw, so raw,
That, to let just anyone in, is a
Risk I cannot take, I cannot even
Stand the nitpicking details of
Minor misfortune or irritation –
If it claws at the very centre of me –
Cracking the core of who I am
Meant to be, as if each iterative jibe
Tears at the very fabric of my reality,
Cracks in the ice of my dark sanity,
Leaving me staring down into oblivion;
Knowledge that the world I live in
Is not as it is written on the tin,
But rather an illusory reference
To something even more silk-thin –
That I am on the edge, all of the time,
The edge of me, the edge of all I am,
The edge of all I will ever be, and
That’s just fine, as long as I don’t
Let anyone push me over that line,
For if I allow the core child inside
To be bashed back down even as
I try to unhide, I will be broken for all time –
This is no melodrama; as mortally injured
Know they are going to die, or as I knew,
Falling naked through late London
Afternoon sky, this very precipice
On which I sit is the outer edge of what
I can permit, and, in the immortal words
Of that bulging forearm’d Popeye, that’s
All I can stands, and I can’t stands
No more!
So that’s where I am,
For now, hopefully not forever,
For it leaves me balanced like a car
At cliff’s edge, waiting to tip and tumble
Into the rocky ravine, ending in an explosive
Scene, at the slightest touch of the lightest
Feather, and whether this is all overplay,
Or real, does not matter, for it’s how I feel,
And if I do not protect that emerging child
Inside, he will only dive back down and
Hide, biding his time until the end of mine,
And I cannot allow that, so whether minor
Punitive petty repetitive snipe at work,
Or my own family making me out to be
A jerk, playing the same old punishment
On my own internal tuning fork, humming
Uncomfortably in my chest, asking me to
Dance, once more, to age old guilt-ridden
Jig, I can only say, ‘no more,’ and,
If pushed so far down to that dark, frozen,
Cracking ice floor, scream back “fuck off,”
Because my very core is under attack,
Even if they can’t see that, they should
Know better – I’ve tried to say it nicely
Enough times so far, to no avail, leaving me
With only a primal scream of pain, for them
To get off me, take their forever weight
Away, because I have neither the room,
Nor the energy, to continue the lifelong
Games that we all play, for I am too raw,
Forever and a day, and now’s not the
Fucking time to push me down, or mess
Me around, cause I’m fighting for my
Very life with every breath, and you’re
Blind flailing ignorance of my state
Is more than I can take on my already
Overflowing plate, so if you will either
Treat me with love, compassion, and an
Open heart, or, at the very least, try not
To treat me as evil, as if I fit the part,
That’d be very nice, thank you, and if
That is something you have neither the
Inclination nor situational awareness to do,
Then happily go away and leave me alone,
Cause I’ve got enough to deal with on my
Own, sitting in my dark living room,
Tinnitus ringing in my ears, in tune with
The humming projector hanging in stasis,
Cheeks drying with tears, joints aching,
Stomach bloated, brain creaking, as I type
This on my phone, so, please, either see
And treat me as the person that I am, or
Leave me the fuck alone.