Mute

Trapped within this withering shell,
Behind double glazed eyes,
My soul, tormented and silenced under this painted smile, Reassuring glances and waves of a drowning man,
Lost upon the thunderous oceans scream,
Pleas for help blown from this shore by trade winds of a tortured mind, My life an open book,
Written in code by a reclusive secrecy,
My own cipher locked within this clamouring,
For home is,
Where the hurt is,
This child inside,
Wails in turmoil as I rock to and fro,
Knees pull to my chin,
Gazing in to my oblivions grasp,
My code crudely scrawled on padded walls, A rainbow of crayon emblazoned inside, Misunderstood, maybe,
Cryptic, of course, Conundrum, of sorts,
But always an enigma, I baffle, bewilder and bemuse,
I confuse all who try to save this lost soul, Wrapped up within me, myself and I, Unable to escape this labyrinth of my own creation, My own jailer,
This mask of iron placed upon my own head, By these very hands that tremble before you, Songs and verse written from this heart, Never to see the light of this overcast day, Feelings lost and forgotten long ago,
As will this existence be one day,
Just dust and whispers lost on the breeze,
All that’s left,
As these memories die in the fading of my light, As I lived a life,
Mute.

Paduak Bowl

I spent a childhood more than comfortable in my own company, I had many friends, but too crippled with my own insecurities, they would always need to knock on my door to play, because I just could not handle the fear surrounding the rejection I would face had they said no. As a child this was something I was not able to articulate.

It would infuriate my parents every time they told me to go and knock for a friend to play, football, cricket or whatever and I would stubbornly refuse, my determination become ever more solid, the more the berated me for not doing so. I will not go in to how and why I was so insecure at such a young age, because this would be my Opus Magnus. I may in years to come write a book on why I am broken, or was, but not just yet.

I tried in the poem to describe the man that child grew up to be, never having left his childhood self in the past, still seeing himself as this frightened little child.

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