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Tag Archives: Mental Health

Am I am… is I am?

23 May

££££-CHANTELLE HOUGHTON

Here we go with the same old shit

DamnIT, I thought I was done with it,

Tired again, and yet looking for more

From where or for what? I am not sure.

Once again my ideas are cloudy and shaded

my love of everything has somewhat faded,

This manic thinking draws out the stress

there’s no worse feeling than that, of a total mess.

Just when you think everything is all in its place

that neat package of bullshit blows up in your face.

I underestimate how manipulative and strikingly strong

why bother fighting? Much easier to just play along,

The more I try to control those big voices inside

the more they resist, defy and begin to collide.

A complete waste of time, is building a defense

made up of lies and a cocktail of antidepressants,

As much as I attempt to change who I am,

I am reminded that I am, who I am, and that’s all I am really am…. huh?

 

 
12 Comments

Posted by on May 23, 2018 in Mental Health, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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Hey Doc, Help?

10 Apr

insomnia-treatment_880x

One med

Two med

Red med

Blue med

Now I need

another

just to help me

get to bed.

“Doc, I feel like someone else”

“Well then take one of these.

Just make sure to leave your co-pay

with the receptionist, before you leave.”

Up all night, wondering what to say

I cannot get to sleep and I’m tired all day.

One med

Two med

Red med

Blue med

Now I need

another

just to help me

get to bed.

“Hey Doc! I can’t sleep!”

“Well than take one of these.

Remember to stop by the front desk

so I can make payroll Please”

Have to get up, and go to work today,

couldn’t fall sleep if I stayed home anyway.

One med

Two med

Red med

Blue med

Now I need

another

just to help me

get to bed.

“Yo DOC!!!

F@#K YOU bro!”

 
31 Comments

Posted by on April 10, 2018 in Mental Health, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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Satan called me spineless

31 Mar

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Hypnotized by the alluring midnight black flowing hair

mimicking the curtains blowing in the ocean’s breath,

I’ve never had such a beautiful image of Satan

as I do right now, as I compose the symphony of my death.

I’m not someone who fancies the ideologies of satanism,

though he is who lurks when I am looking for a friend,

why wouldn’t you want to talk to someone with expertise

in constructing a scene as melodramatic as your end?

It’s not like I have a poor sense of direction or imagination,

it’s just that I get so fixated on the methods that I do NOT like,

for instance, stoning or drowning in a pool filled with sharks,

not fond of guns, asphyxiation or stabbing with a spike.

I tend to obsess over the things that I don’t want to happen

instead of making happen the dreams that I wish,

I’d just hate to have to come to grips with growing soft inside

I wouldn’t want to be remembered as a spineless jellyfish.

 

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 
15 Comments

Posted by on March 31, 2018 in Mental Health, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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Rooms 12 and 13

26 Mar

Straight black hair with uneven self-cut bangs

large red-rimmed glasses too big for your face,

red lipstick a shade lighter, painted high on your lip

dark pink scars on your wrist, elegantly wrapped in lace.

Visible circles around your eyes show signs of stress

many nights you stay up crying, hardly ever sleep,

desperately praying for it to all be over, in exchange

the lord may take away and have your soul to keep.

Is it a cry for help because of your failure to succeed?

Or are you just trying it on, to see if it fits you well?

I personally understand as I have been there before,

after anonymously giving a false name at a roadside motel.

I laid in a tub, knife in hand unknowing of these feelings,

in the adjacent room you sit crying, I now wish I knew,

I could have invited you over to have a drink with me,

together we could have helped the other, follow through.

Drowning02

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 

 

 
14 Comments

Posted by on March 26, 2018 in Mental Health, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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The Used Bookstore

25 Mar

pexels-photo-264635

So seductively, books piled up sky high to the ceiling,

it being the only cause for their ascending limitation.

Methodically placed and balanced just so each one acting,

as the cornerstone of its strikingly sturdy foundation.

The unmistakable specific smell of old paper and leather,

in a strange unpredictable way brings welling to my eyes,

flooding in had come the memories of being a volunteer

at my township local library, when I was a youth, arise.

Dreaming of then, a simpler time I reminisce and recall

spending my summer afternoons there with my cousin,

I am suddenly washed over with confusion, wondering

how can such an innocent time in life, now seem so sullen?

As the room gets colder it starts to appear much darker

the light that had sparkled in my mind begins to smolder,

the depths of my self-hating uninvited friend depression

interrupted by the used bookstore owners tap on my shoulder.

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 

 
38 Comments

Posted by on March 25, 2018 in art, Mental Health, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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Hello. It’s you again.

22 Mar

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Knock, knock! Well hello there, it’s just me again,

thought I’d stop by to see how you have been.

You didn’t think that I’d be gone forever now?

As if I could just wander off or vanish somehow?

So you withheld me from your Doctor, of mental health?

it doesn’t negate the fact that you talk to yourself.

So they don’t know that I exist at the worst of times?

When all sobriety did was suppress some of the signs.

But eventually, they’ll see us talking and ask what is wrong,

only so many times can we say that we’re mumbling a song.

We envy those who can depict what is real and what is made up,

always on the edge of our seat ready to apologize for a mix-up.

Was this all a dream? Or did that really happen?

A back and forth game of ping pong, I am constantly trapped in.

Is this all too much for you? Since you thought I was absent?

a lot like your heart, there is no possibility for our detachment.

You may think I was created from too much Lysergic acid diethylamide,

Truth being, I’ve always been here and will always be by your side…

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 
19 Comments

Posted by on March 22, 2018 in Mental Health, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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You can’t keep it down

20 Mar

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You cannot just hurl your problems down river,

not like someone else will take claim to them.

You cannot just lock the vexation away in immure,

it’s just not viable to have, your shame condemned.

They will softly flow downstream nearing a waterfall,

it’ll seem like this verse has reached its denouement,

it’ll be free for a moments time before it crashes below

until its tumbled and pummeled in sadistic enslavement.

Even after all the torture, it has submissively endured,

the inevitable motion makes the effort seem worthless,

as there is no use in fighting the mighty force of buoyancy,

behind the cowardice, you can’t hide, as it comes to the surface.

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 
26 Comments

Posted by on March 20, 2018 in Mental Health, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

 

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