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Trying to write out my pain

 

Trying to write out my pain

 

Trying to write out my pain

At least at last there’s some rain

I try to mouth in green

But colours are too pantone

I try to nose in tea with honey

But there’s chocolate inside my cup

I left out food for the birds

They help but I can’t really receive

I started off writing self consciously

With fixed rhymes

But I don’t like it anymore

It feel stilted & old hatted

Or maybe my internal rhythm

Is more instinctive like bebop

But I ache so I don’t want a constant rhythm in this

Rhythms move in different tempos

& time signatures

Like waves in the air

I feel in danger of drowning

In them

It’s just me here

& actually that’s good

It’s up to me to get myself out of this hole

The hole I’ve been in all my life

& the hole that’s in me

I have a friend who reckons

It’s not that I’m lonely

I just need to get laid

I’m not so sure

I mean yes sex is a basic need

But companionship is crucial

The West is living through the most isolating era in human history

This is the crux of it

& for people like myself with mental illness

Who are inevitably misunderstood

& receive much ire directed against them by the straights

It’s even lonelier

The rain is beautiful

I pray it sticks around

Because the country is parched & burning

I got assaulted yesterday by a friend

Because he perceived that I interrupted him

I didn’t grow up with ‘wait your turn to speak’

(I exclaimed one word in response to another friend)

Ordained as if on high by some self appointed arbiter

Of public standards

I used to like tolerance for different strokes

Anyway, we were talking (I thought we were friends)

& I was sitting relaxed

He quickly & unexpectedly came up behind me

& grabbed around the shoulders & neck

Pinning my arms

I was powerless & in shock

So I’m still shaken by it today

Strange people Australians

Very angry

About their privilege

I miss my Mauritian family

Where everyone talks at once

It’s marvellous fun

But Australians take themselves & their pronouncements very seriously

I’m feeling a bit beaten up

Over here

I’ve always had more luck

With people from other cultures

Than the middle class Anglo-Saxons

We just don’t click

Poles up their arses

As I say: angry

Bitter

Intolerant

Loving rules & regulations

Their clubs & societies

I’m a fish out of water here

Like Mersault I am an Outsider

I might have to get out of country living

Too many white people

I can’t pick em apart

I’ve made a few friends

But they’re all oddballs too

& like most Australians they’re fairweather

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

 

 

 

 

 


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