With you by my side, i’ll be OK…

Please don’t be weary,
I’m more of a danger to myself,
Than anyone else.
I’ve got ill mental health,
It’s not completely contagious,
So please don’t leave me on the shelf,
I want to be amongst,
I need to be amongst everyone else.
Excluding me
Because of my disability,
Is highly unfair,
All I want is to be involved,
Surely society has evolved,
Just enough to know not to lock me away,
Because with you by my side,
Chances are i’ll be ok.

Great Britain isn’t Great for all!

Great Britain is not so great close up. What do I know? After all I am Black British, not just British straight up and certainly not the top of the crop; White British! Should I be greatful to have British in my tittle at all? That would be naive. Should I beg for all of man kind to open their eyes but close their prejudice, close their racist and just see and hear me, no preconceptions, no mask, no makeup no autosound. I’m lost, I have no identity because the truth is unravelling and I realise that I have been blind, I have misheard and struggled with understanding my entire life! I thought most of racism (at leat in the so-called developed country that I have only ever known as my home) washed out with the abolishment of slavery. My ancestors took lashings and so generations to come could be free. My beloved grandparents basically came to this country in receipt of an invitation, an opportunity to better themselves, to walk the golden patched streets of Great Britain, to be close to their Queen, to start a fresh and be the very best, but there was no mention of hardship, ungratefulness, social and racial disparity, brutality, beatings and rushes uncalled for, “No Black’s, No Dogs, No Irish”. My family took it, for the likes of me and the youngers and in my eyes, there was vast room for improvement still but The beautiful family orientated Christmas Sainsbury’s advert 2020; Diversity (dance group) BGT 2020 dance interpretation of the pandemic and murder of Mr George Floyd has opened up a war of complaints, hidden behind letters and computer screens, those cowards and trolls are catapulting society backwards. This was not Martin Luther Kings dream and it is not mine. My heads been in the clouds. I cannot handle the truth, I wish it was still there!
Black, Brown, Women of colour praying their babies will be a shade lighter to ensure their children have a better future, that is what it has come to!
So my black ass explains why I’m a failure, riddled with mental illness because all of the rejection and abandonment that I have endured/received/encountered. Turns out most of which was out of my control. My fate was sealed from conception. Two black parents. Ontop I was as dark as can be. So people have thought themselves better, me not good enough, I just could not think why, it appears I missed the obvious. I’m tuned in now, I feel the weight, I feel the pain. I am too crushed to fly the flag, ignite the torch and fight.
A few marches this year, does not cut it. A few news reports when nothing is resolved and the full truth is held back, undisclosed. An apology to me. There is an awful lot of work to be done to make things fair. We don’t want glitz and glamour, elaborate attempts of showing change. We just want it to happen, to be accepted as fellow mankind, out and proud and behibd closed doors too,but I’m personally loosing faith, not because it is too late but perhaps because it was never truely possible at all!

Step Ladder Outa Hell…

I don’t believe that you are unwell,
You just keep putting yourself through some kind of hell,
Professing to be crazy,
When you are actually just lazy.
For absolutely no reason,
You’ve committed a self sabotage treason,
Putting your self in hell,
So you can just constantly dwell,
Taking it upon yourself you are just giving up,
Handed yourself over like an inanimat object,
An empty cup,
That they just continuously pour medication into,
To stop you from being you,
Because you claim to be ill.
I wish that you wasn’t so ignorant and so you could take away your pride,
And see the divide now between us,
You could have helped me,
You still can,
But you refuse to believe that I need it,
You refuse to accept what I have been diagnosed with,
And seem to think it all inside my head,
Although professionals themselves have said,
I do have have borderline personality disorder,
And it means my life is not in the same order,
I can no longer dream the same dreams,
At least for now,
Or accomplish the same things,
But I am still human!
More than anything I’m able to love and wish for love in return,
But my pain,
My suffering,
Has caused you pain,
I know,
And you suffering,
For this I am sorry,
That is why you are on auto pilot,
Which warrants your denial,
But you are no longer by my side,
I try to take it in my stride,
But it isn’t easy,
As I don’t want to make you feel any other way than love towards me,
But at the very least respect,
And belief.
I do not just make things up,
I am not just giving up,
Attention is not what I seek,
I want after healing.
I am unwell,
I don’t want to be,
If you could come to terms with this as well,
That will be my step ladder out of this hell!!!

All over the TV

This girl can bare the character of many faces, Believe me she’s going places, On the right path she’s going to the top,
She ain’t never gonna stop.
Her big dream,
Achievable,
Not a fantasy,
Reality,
This is her destiny.
All the bumps fuel the pumps of ignition,
She’s wound up and ready to go, Despite many attempts of ruining her flow,
You supported her she needed that,
But now all is lost,
To the debt of a mighty cost, Once proud now ashamed and distant practically lost.
I never meant to embarrass you, I never meant to let you down,
I never took away all the air,
I never wanted to drown.
Now so many have surpassed me,
I see them all over TV,
Whilst I stay back suffering from mental fragility,
I know the top is a place,
A place that has no room or space for a loser like me,
Mentally fit and positively different I wish it could be, I’ll be the one on the box for all to see,
I’ll be the one making you proud cashing in the money,
And because I’m not,
You’ve forgotten how to love me,
I never needed you back then when I was independent and strong,
I was on the right path on the right track and knew where I belong,
Out of everything that I’ve lost what saddens me the most is losing you,
I’m truly sorry for any pain or torture I put you through,
I wish you understood that my mental instability is not not a path that I would have chosen for me or to hurt you,
BPD is not what I ever believed I had,
Would ruin me,
Ouch this path pains me,
More than it does you,
It’s true,
And no matter what though,
I love you.

Blood Is Thick

Tis fact that you are familiar with ill fortune,
Your ears have heard the tale of many woes,
Perhaps weakening your compassion,
Pained details becoming a fashion,
That by duty you must hear and impartially adhere to,
So much so that you perceive my grumblings as petulance,
Detached you are,
This is apparent from your facetious and needless remarks,
That you have barked,
Despite my fragility.
You harbour no emotion,
It is all innocent and guilty,
When it comes to my commotion,
Because we share no blood.
Occasionally fond of me,
But only love would enable you to hear and see,
The true pitty,
Wich is my history,
Evoking such misery,
So much so that it obliterated my destiny.
Now on a new path,
I do not forget,
Still waiting for you to love me,
But I no longer threat.
I ask for nothing from you,
And am therefor not disappointed,
You are happy with our distance,
And so it is kept.
Thinking I meant more to you,
Sums me up more than what you do,
Or don’t truly think.
You compared me to them,
That’s when I knew when,
You are detached,
And I cannot change that,
We need not walk on eggshells,
Nor tango,
Waltz,
Two Step around it,
Different blood we have,
Completely different roots,
I’ve seen the apple in your eye,
Your dedication to the princess and the glass slipper,
So made of stone you are not,
I’m just the old boot,
But a boot I am,
And I must be greatful for that,
Blood is thick,
Wine is devine,
But we all need water from time to time.

Loneliness Insomnia

Sleep is my hobby and escape,
A personal skill of perfection to the nine,
From which I acquired so naturally,
From the get go,
And yet tonight,
Despite being dosed up on my sanity medication,
Being fully prepared to escape reality and ill mentality,
I hoped to dream of unicorns and cotton candy,
Blissfully bobbing along on my all inclusive Mr Sandmans lullaby vacation,
Alas love is a powerful creation,
That has stirred something within,
My need to escape has shrunk,
As everyday has been a holiday,
But now you’ve gone away,
And the bitter side affect is insomnia,
Sleep deprivation,
As tonight my lover lies with me not,
And loneliness has returned,
A feeling I had unknowingly forgot.

We…

At the bottom of my left arm, Which I usually cover up entirely,
For the sake of those around me,
To avoid judgement,
When I have been unstable and unable to fight,
Come near to the end,
My scars are proof,
That I cannot ignore,
Nor pretend,
They do exist,
And remain permanently,
They lead you through my history,
That I should not be shy for you to see,
As they are a huge part of me.
Now lies a ring that shines like all the stars have been lit up in the galaxy,
To guide me through my destiny,
After all the rejection and neglect,
I have now found the man who sees no challenge,
Whom loves me unconditionally with pride and not an ounce of regret.
Alas we must make it down the Isle yet,
But he loves me,
Come what may,
The challenges I must endure in recovery,
Shall not break me,
Break we,
Strength,
Loyalty,
Happiness,
That is a destination we shall triumph to excel and success.

Glorious…

Somewhere beyond the grave, Beyond the clouds,
Beyond the stars,
Beyond the galaxies,
There is a place that so far I can only dream of.
A place where only the good may roam.
I cannot see it,
I cannot hear it,
But I can taste it,
I can feel it,
I believe in it.
This is the place where we are all destined to go,
Yet how we conduct ourselves in this lifetime may stop us from reaching.
Whether we all make it,
All my loved ones and I,
I do not yet know,
But some secrets are to be kept,
As we are unable to fully comprehend them as yet.
I trust in it,
And hopefully one day I will see it,
Make it,
Reach it,
Meet all of my loved ones there,
From the past,
My future,
And present,
And spread my wings.
It will be glorious.

Imperfections;

If you asked me to write a list of all my perfections,
I’ll be honest with you,
That would be something I would find very hard to do.
But if you asked me to write a list of all my imperfections, I’d say how honest do you want me to be with you?
As the list will go on for days and days,
And it’s frustrating because in many ways my weaknesses gives me strength,
But they also keep me down.
I can’t tell you how many doors have been shut in my face,
Because I have been unable to keep up with the pace,
Be the winner,
Knocking everyone out of the race,
First place!
I’m used to loosing now,
Not placing at all,
But I know deep down I’ve not given up,
I still can feel it,
Nothing can destroy all of that,
And as a reminder
the blisters on my fingers show that I’m a fighter,
I’ve just had to change lanes.
We all fall,
But we don’t all get back up.
Judge me from a far,
Once destined to be a star,
You now may think of me as a looser,
That I have been dropped out,
That I have given up,
But you’re wrong to doubt me,
I’m still standing,
I’m just leaning,
Got my crutch whilst I’m healing,
It’s more of a feeling,
Like how longs a piece of string,
Or the distance from the floor to the ceiling,
Then a measurement of time that can be reeled in.
So delicate,
Yet still strong,
I want to prove the ignorant wrong,
But that is not where my strength comes from,
At my lowest,
When all those around me had given up,
You stood up to give me a chance,
It sounds sickly to say that I have been saved by romance,
But all I ever needed was to feel unconditionally loved for the longest time,
As long as me memory serves me,
My history,
So many have left me permanently,
Not hot and cold,
My sensitivities persieve that as bitter,
I need continuity,
Consistency,
Not inconsistency,
Blinding me,
Leaving me in now way too familiar territory,
I once thought my only hope was a magical remedy,
To give me credibility,
To get back on the right tracks of my journey,
To get back to being strong,
But we were all wrong,
The super glue I need to keep things together,
In order to get better,
Even on rainy days,
Misty and blue,
Was always you,
I was destined to meet you,
You let me hold onto you and you hold onto me too.
You’re my one true perfection,
So that’s one for that list,
With your help I am slowly administrating personal correction,
And under your protection,
Just like this imperfection list in question,
I know some day,
I’m going to make it through,
Change lanes,
And all those closed doors,
I’m gonna burst right through!
It is hard to be me,
Hard to be with me gauging by history,
You’re making it look easy,
One more positivity,
You,
You make me happy to be me,
Confident to know that I will one day gather more control of BPD,
Feel less heavy from all the pain,
Be able to manage and restrain,
And hopefully be free,
Feeling lighter,
With a higher ratio of positivity,
Enabling my rehabilitation to be the best me.