Shut that fucking bird up
it's 4 am.
sitting at the head of my dining table,
eating beans out of the can,
and wearing nothing.
Like the nuclear war started or something.
Christ, imagine if I lost all my skin.
And that annoying, buzzing light
So yellow, makes me think of..air raid shelters.
All huddled together hoping not to be blow to bits.
And just me, all alone
naked
With the sharp edge of the can.
And where the fuck did the spoon go?
I'm not going under the table.
Listening to sad songs, to feel better - why do we do that?
Turning it up doesn't change what's inside.
Surrounded by baby pictures, of young eyes
And those little button mouths.
I was born naked, wasn't I?
And I wasn't alone, Mum and Dad were there.
I came from bits of them - so
Technically, I was 2 bits, alive, formed into one, that made "me".
Can I swap one half?
Can I just sleep now?
Can you stop talking for a while?
And when I see people around, can they stop
touching, if they don't have permission.
Don't touch, you don't no if it'll hurt.
And I didn't say that YOU could,
I don't want you on my skin, on me all the time,
You have no right.
No right to make me feel so cheep and so suffocated.
The only bit still breathing is my skin.
The chair is good on my skin, it doesn't live.
It doesn't hurt to be touched by something dead.
Can you be dead if you never lived?
Do you have to die?
Did I live?
If I die, I wonder what people will say.
I want lilies at my funeral.
And music.
And my friends at the front, and only a DECENT picture of me.
And for fuck sake don't bury me.
And don't watch me burn, go and get pissed.
And keep your hands off my lover - I'll still be watching.
And I want candles.
And only loving words.
And a fucking explanation why i had to die to start living.
And an end, to everything.
I don't want you to sing
I don't need you to cry.
I want you to believe in God,
But I'll have sinned, and maybe, just maybe,
It'll be better to go to nothing, than to go to Hell.
And when I wake up, I would love to be someone else.
Or me again, or just - capable.
I have to sleep to wake.
Where the fuck IS that spoon?
You brought me shells once, didn't you?
And i put them in a brown box.
Yes, with letters. Love letters.
Jesus, such open, raw love.
I love like a child.
I still think like a child, want to be looked after.
I want to die in my sleep.
After eating these Beans.
And be found in the sunlight.
Its not all about anger - anger comes from sadness.
It's not all about shouting.
Its not always about cutting.
Its these quiet moments of clarity
The quiet moments of internal distraction
The painted smile.
The need to let go.
The terrifying moment of release when I know
This is it.
Sudden Death Syndrome -
{dead on the inside.
Letting it seep out.
While I'm not expecting it.}
The sudden feeling of not being here
And not needing to feel alive.
And the bird stopped signing.
And that's it.
Author notes
Sudden death syndrome
A.k.a. giving in.
Written May 12th, 2006
In a list
A contest entry
- I want to feel so sad, Gimme what'cha got... by PoEtS-bLeEd-InK.
300 points, ended June 20, 2006, 21 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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You're an amazing poet.xxxx
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wow this was good, I almost cried...good luck
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i did yes
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Dis you ever find your spoon within all the manic madness?
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wow, i can't explain to you just how much these comments mean to me. Honestly, I am touched beyond words. I hope that you never writing things like this from experience, as I have. I will make an effort to read more of your work. ITs the least I can do.
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Wow, this is amazing, you're an amazing poet, I just can't say it enough, I love your work, the psychological ones especially, your very good at expressing declining sanity and pain. I also love how you kept it still in the moment "where the fuck IS that spoon" It was a wonderful work of poetry. If I ever get half as good as you at writing, I'll be ecstatic.
Kissing
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i hope u never give in hun..no matter how hard it gets..u r so much stronger...
amazing line - The only bit still breathing is my skin.
its fantastic
luv u - loz x -
no it wasnt about war, but i am glad that you took your own interpretation from it
ty for reading -
excellent
hey i read all of the and I think that is really good. It is almost sad to read. The war is a bad thing. You are talking about some war right? Hey keep up the good work -
perfection
It has the same kind of feel as somnambulist- the stream of consciousness edge.. Yet this one feels a lot less frantic, and reflects the more sombre, hopeless, resigned mood? Again, the repeated phrases show an increasing sense of almost desperation.. yet it somehow reveals so much more.. It sort of has a Tony harrison feel to it. Devestatingly perfect. I just cant say any more. xxxx -
The Best
Wow. Amazing. Like the person above me said this feels to personal and to beautiful to make any critical remarks. Just thank you for sharing. -
Again, a really personal poem- but Jesus, so good. i don't ever feel it's right to critically maul something so intimate but just let it be enough that its awesome
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holy shit. LONG But worth it. wow... I love it.
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