letters
from words
I’ve been thinking about giving up
Writing
What was once a refuge for my unacceptable thoughts
Is now a spectacle for anyone who wishes to change their idea of me
To come
To hate
To love
at a distance
I’m afraid I am insane
More insane than you can joke about
The kind that won’t let me go outside because
I might
Harm something that doesn’t fit
That I am looking for a fight
I don’t know where the words come from
But they do not stop at me
Or you
They show everyone my crazy
While everyone hides their own
But I do not know
If they have it
Or they don’t
I only have myself
One should be enough
It’s not just me in here
Because I don’t think of the words
They are like nagging voices
Scratch claw
Eat jaw
Inside
biting to be heard
I don’t know who needs them
But I’m afraid that I need them
And even stopping wouldn’t be enough
To save
Me
.
From,
Words
I want to write a letter
But letters do not get returned
They change, they turn into meaning for someone to change me
To make me something they have never heard
To make me someone they don’t remember
To make a message
One I could not deliver
The poems won’t leave me
Alone
When I am
Alone
I wish they would forget me
Find someone that could use me
For good
For more
Than making me more misunderstood
Could you make the letter form
Me
Into a method that is healthy
Into a man that feels wealthy
Who might live before his death
Instead
Of waiting on the word
To save
Me
.
From,
Letters
Someone told me that I should start a cult
That they would follow me beyond themself
That I could go anywhere and they would be there
That sounded nice
and also
It kinda seems like hell
To have someone reliant
That someone needs you to tell them
What
To do
All the time
Like a servant with no mind
But there’s a bubbling I feel
When I think about someone
Who would follow me into hell
And look at me
And want me
And say
Isn’t this swell
I get to have you
All to myself
I want that too
To be someone’s everything
To hold the leash to someone’s fate
And tug on it
Yell
Command them to my will
Sit
Speak
Follow me
We’re going on a walk today
No it is not time to eat
Be hungry for me
Crave a taste
Drool waiting
You can trust
The belief of us
Protect each other
.
From,
Anything
I fell in love with going crazy
I wish I could be myself
I fell down
Life is hazy
I don’t sleep so well
I wake up to a thought
I can’t hide from those
They told me to scribble down a dream
They told me to keep writing
They told me it would help
But they kept growing, fucking, making more
They won’t stop until I can’t stand
They won’t stop until I can’t think
But thinking never ends
I hope it’s not more thought
On the other side
I think a lot
Sometimes of suicide
But if when I finally lay my head to rest
And things turn off
I pray that then
When I die
It’s not more thought
Forever
Eternally
Waiting to escape
Back to this life afraid again
Running
.
From,
Everything
I’m tired
It’s like I spent a life of repressed creation and now that I’ve let that little trickle out the floodgate won’t stop to give me a breath and so I live riding on a wave of deadly overproduction. I can’t stop to think, I can’t think, they are overwhelming me, all the words. They aren’t inside me anymore. They’re spilling out
From,
Everywhere
Someone reminded me that I should stop torturing
Myself
With all the things that I enjoy
Every time I find something I like
Like playing with a rhyme
Or writing way past bedtime
Or making my tomorrow self so mad that I’m tired
Too tired to get to work on time
And how to laugh at people who get mad
And how to go mad and laugh at that
Or being me even though
It sometimes makes you angry
And stay me when you can’t stand me
But forget tomorrow and start again
Ask you how you’re doing
Make you my friend again
Convince everyone of quick forgiveness
And let me and you and all us fools
Have feelings
And let each other feel
Liked
Like it’s ok
To feel things
.
From,
A friend
This is amazing. As writers, we should all sometimes just let it out without controlling it. What comes out is art, no two ways about it. I have experienced this overproduction/gorgeous flow/fear of insanity you are talking about. A couple of months after joining substack, I realised I was living 90% of my day inside my writing, inside my head. One day, I had a bit of a weird episode, where I felt like everything sped up - possibly undiagnosed ADHD? I was jumping madly from one activity to the next (work email, read a page of that book, jot down idea, pick up phone, look out window, where am I?, back to work text). This ended with a panic attack. Then I talked about it in therapy and they were like, woh woh partner, maybe lay off the writing? That fucking stung. Because I was feeling so connected to the creative flow inside, more than ever in my life. I was sad that I had to reign it in, for my mental health. But after a few days, I saw they were right... nothing is as important as not losing my mind. If I lose my mind, there will be no writing, no relationship, no job, no take care of my kid, nothing. So I took a step back. I don't know why I'm telling you this, I think I see a kindred spirit. Anyway, the most important thing: this piece of writing is amazing.