Bleaker

Written after reading Kevin Brooks' bleak but brilliant 2014 Carnegie Winner "The Bunker  Diary".  For those wondering after reading this piece, I'm doing fine on my meds.


More than my mirror
My bunker my life
My steel wall
Everything bolted down
Tables, beds, toilets
Everything the same
My subvergence
I wander my streets
Merging for me
Who I am
Poet breathes a large net
Dancer a different
Viewing my world
Complex
Real
More than I know more than I do
I am me and subject to change or
Stay the same
I am my own contradiction

The streets look back and nod
Until their no makes me dizzy
The streets say that's not enough
You're evading the question
Who
Are
You???
I am my fear
The unexplored skin peeled back
To my beating heart
I am molested
And I molest myself
The unexplained that half truth
Where emotion lies
I work to breathe but
Have no physical ailment
I am empathy and anger
That taut emotional string
I was well taut
Until I learned to cry
The cry of the untaut
Unwinding dad's DNA
That molestivous feel
Weaving rewoven
Becoming my own
Reach in pull out my heart
Fight the lie that it's not really there
Whining and twining
Who I am
More than my thought empathy connection
Depth flow undercurrent real
Drowning fear my bunker
Journal endless hopeless
Exploring bleak depth
Flat ugly fucked

The streets look back and nod where they lie
Nod
Lie
Disappear
Unweaving
Leaving...


Me



Denis Streeter   9/9/14