Work in progress

I’m a work in progress,
I feel better,
I feel a lot of things,
I don’t tell people though.

Sometimes –
You don’t want to talk about it,
Your illness,
Or how you are tired.

I want to get rid of memories,
I want to start over from page one,
I hate the situations I get myself into,
I’ll carve my way out them by myself.

Intricate patterns,
And more colourful memories,
It’s never going to go away,
But I can make the best of it.

© Kirsty Young and My Place of Dreams, 2016. All rights reserved unless prior permission is given  by the author in question.

 

 

Yesterday

Today was one of my better days,
My life will always be like this,
Up one minute,
Down the next,
Up in the heights of heaven,
Then down in the pits of hell.

I like it,
Or well I make do with it,
People have so much to say,
However they don’t know what it’s like,
I’d like for them to be me,
Just for one day.

On second thoughts,
No I wouldn’t,
I wouldn’t have my life any other way,
I am what I am,
At least I can say I’m proud,
Can they?

I listen to music,
I write, I study,
I game, I love,
I laugh, I smile,
I feel, I’m alive,
Could I ask for more?

I like expressing myself,
Some of it is irrelevant,
Some of it is relevant,
Some of it is fantasy,
And on the other hand,
Some of it reality.

There is a fine line,
You know between real and fiction,
Fiction takes inspiration from the real,
Fabricates it and makes it pretty,
Don’t get caught up in a story,
As in the end it is make believe.

That doesn’t take away the experience,
Just lessens the pain,
As you know at the end,
Whatever the conclusion,
You moulded it and created it,
You were the one who wrote it.

You breathed the air into the characters,
You put your pen to paper,
You felt the characters emotions,
You researched the fact,
You loved the character arcs,
And the cliffhangers.

Fiction is wrapped tightly in reality,
Not as it is fact, but more,
That it is real as humans wrote it,
You took it from your mind,
If that doesn’t make it real,
Then is our imagination false?

Philosophy dictates that anything is possible,
There is no truth and no lies,
There is no real answer,
Accept that and thus accept the course of life,
Life is what we make it,
Whether that be fantasy or reality.

© Kirsty Young and My Place of Dreams. All rights reserved for this work, duplication is illegal unless prior permission provided by the author in question.

Transmission

The transmission,
The message,
The words,
The static,
The…
The…
The…
…
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
Except for the drumming of a pulse.
The whisper of the wind,
The patter of rain.

That is what it is.
Simply put.
Over and out.

(Inspired by a collection of David Bowie songs [Space Oddity, Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars and Heroes])

Looking forward to the future

Got a diagnosis today,
Never been more petrified,
Got through it,
Hate sifting through memories,
Picking at long dead scars.

I live in the present now,
Not in the past,
And certainly not fixed,
I am like the ocean,
I don’t have a specific mood.

I’m happy finally,
Doing what I want to do,
Pursuing a passion –
For writing and music,
Working on getting a job in that field.

I’m applying for prizes,
And all that interesting stuff,
Going to volunteer on radio,
And I’m excited,
I’m looking forward to what the future holds.

A poem to my Uncle

I finally got around to writing the poem for my Uncle who passed away suddenly a few weeks back. That is one of the main reasons behind me being absent from this blog, I have been running my Tumblr (mylittleplaceofthoughts.tumblr.com) as it is easier at this time. If you are intrigued it is a music blog, so you can have a look if you want.

I found it pretty hard to write this, as the funeral was today, but I thought this time was better than never. It had been a rough few weeks, and it didn’t really hit me until literally today. I don’t know, I guess I was pretending that it never happened, and he isn’t gone. With my current position, with my depression, I am having trouble processing specific things. I guess it will hit more fully soon.

It isn’t the longest poem, I might write another soon, but I guess we will see.

This was written to ‘Danny Boy’ the Elvis Presley cover which was played today.

Memories are flicking through my mind,
like polaroid’s stacked up on a table,
of when I was a child,
and of conversations of days gone by.

I remember as a kid sitting in the local pub,
my Uncle was a fan of horse racing,
I used to help put his bets on,
I would pick the ones with the best coloured outfits.

I remember talking to him about my future,
him being a quiet man who knew a lot,
who had a tough life full of difficulties,
a problem with alcohol which was no secret.

He still smiled, still put effort into his life,
whatever got thrown his way,
I won’t forget him that is for certain,
he will live in my memories, and in that song forever more.

© My Place of Dreams and Kirsty Young, 2015. All rights reserved unless prior permission is given by the author.

A fresh start

It’s been a while. Sorry about that. Been recovering by myself. Getting the help and support I need is helping me out somewhat. I spoke to my friends and family, instead of living in the past, the future or even my mind I should instead be focusing on the present. My studies, my health and just being happy. This song is written to ‘Through Glass’ by Stone Sour. Firstly I am going to list my interpretation of the song because it has a massive impact on the poem I was writing, then I will actually post the poem.

The song to me describes struggles with mental health, and people or things battering down your armour. Cutting you and leaving scars which aren’t necessarily seen by the naked eye but which are hidden. Hidden by a façade, a mask you put on for the audience or the ‘stars’ and you live in a lie. That being alone is often comforting. Realistically this song means a lot to me for several reasons but this one is the most important.

Darkness, and lightness,
madness and calmness,
happiness and sadness.
Friends and family,
they have supported me,
and shown me I ament alone.

I was truly surprised by who
came out of the woodwork
to show their support, I didn’t expect
some of the help I found,
such a disastrous event, me becoming ill,
brought me closer to some.

I drown the thoughts out with music,
turned up to the highest volume,
until you can feel the beat in your temples,
I seek refuge in music and writing,
I don’t really have a reason for what I listen to,
I just listen to whatever takes my whim.

I am fine, I am doing good,
smiling and happy,
happier than I ever have been,
getting myself back on track,
having a fresh start, and I am trying my hardest
at my studies and wanting to pass this year.

I have a goal to work towards,
getting better, and looking after myself,
I am done with the whole tragedy scene,
I want to pursue a stronger story,
one where I can excel, and enjoy,
not one where I am always sad.

© Kirsty Young and My Place of Dreams. All rights reserved unless prior permission is given by the author.

Here I am again

Hey everyone, sorry I have been away. Not been feeling well. Been battling with several ongoing personal issues and a congregation of things got me in a really low mood. I am feeling a little better now so I wrote some poetry. I hope you all like it, and I am trying to get back into blogging so look out for it. This was written to ‘Throne’ by Bring Me The Horizon. This poem is set over the majority of my teenage years, and is an overall consensus of the past 7-8 years or so of my life.

Struggling for years does its damage,
it has destroyed many of my friendships,
it has marred my opinion in myself,
and at times made me paranoid.

I hate backstabbers, they shiv you in the back
and leave you bleeding on the ground,
they don’t ever apologise, or if they do,
you will be waiting a long time for one.

I can’t blame anyone in specific,
it has been a group of things
which has caused this eventual downfall
that is something only I truly know.

I just knew not long ago that I needed help,
and I am feeling much better now after seeking it,
I shouldn’t have thought I could battle this on my own,
that was a silly thing to do and I will reap the consequences.

© Kirsty Young and My Place of Dreams, 2015. All rights reserved unless prior permission is supplied by the author. Unsolicited duplication of these materials is breaching copyright.

The battle between light and dark

I have started personally to speak out about mental illness and those in society who may be struggling with personal issues which cause them to descend into a dark place. This poem is fiction, I do not do drugs and I rarely drink alcohol but I wanted to showcase what situations a lot of people find themselves in. I want to do my part in ending a stigma which surrounds mental illness in society and that is what I am aiming to do in my poetry for now on. If you like the sound of that keep an eye out.

Angels call for salvation,
devils call for redemption,
the wings of the fallen,
are destroyed by the fire
and the words of the heartbroken.

They all wonder what sin is
what care feels like and what the point is,
the tears of frustration,
and the arguments which stalk
those who have fallen beyond where they should be.

You ponder what the truth is in the lies,
what is hidden in the shadows of the dark,
the liquid liquor of alcohol,
the line of drugs,
the callings of the fallen.

Ponderings of what is being done by humanity,
by society to help the vulnerable,
the ones who have taken it on the chin for years,
and never complained but dealt with it themselves,
the ones who growl late at night in the theatre of their life.

The moans and groans of the pain gathered through years,
the ones who reckon for the attention of the world,
crazy red eyes which gleam throughout the dark,
for the reckoning and the help of the strong,
Satan’s wish and kiss all at the same time.

© Kirsty Young and My Place of Dreams, 2015. All rights are reserved unless prior permission is supplied by the author in question.

I am back

Sorry everyone, I haven’t really been feeling myself for the past week or so. I can’t really remember what I did, but I think it was bad, or maybe it was good. I don’t know. I guess we spend our life regretting or wanting to forget, but I think that is a load of rubbish. I am tired of putting on an act to appease others. I have got to the point in life where I don’t care what others think of me, I am myself and if you don’t like it, then fair enough. It is like the colour yellow isn’t everyone’s favourite. I wrote this to two songs: ‘Dreaming With Our Eyes Open’ by Witt Lowry and ‘Demons’ by Imagine Dragons.

She is underwater,
the water is pushing at her,
clawing at her,
dragging her down,
to the depths of the unknown.

She tries to scream,
call for help,
but the words don’t come,
she just keeps falling down,
and going further down.

She still feels the same,
as she always has,
but she is numb,
she smiles,
but she doesn’t feel the emotion,
she feels nothing.

She tries her best,
she tries to be there for others,
but it is hard,
she has to get herself together,
stitch herself back up.

She has to suit herself up in her armour,
and acknowledge that everything is ok,
and that nothing bad has truly happened,
that it is her who is stopping it,
but she can’t at the moment.

Demons live inside of her,
inside of others,
she can see them all,
she can hear them,
and she needs to exorcise them.

Other people give her advice,
everybody has a stance,
and she is the only one who knows herself,
she is the only one who knows the truth,
and she wants it to be that way.

She is all over the place, emotions bouncing off of walls,
and she is up and then down, underwater then not,
she can’t control it, and it is scary, but she gets used to it,
all she can do is hope everyone understands, and trusts,
that everything will be okay after she has things sorted.

© Kirsty Young and My Place of Dreams, all rights reserved unless prior permission has been provided by the author. Any duplication or distribution of this material is illegal under copyright laws.

Extend ourselves

I forgot what happy meant,
I don’t know where I have been
or what I have been doing, I find
it alarming that I have a
perfect memory for past years but I can’t remember
anything from January to July.

It is like a blank, I find that concerning,
and I have a funny feeling I know why,
that was when everything started to go wrong,
and now I can’t remember what happened, all I know
was that it was bad. Accusations, falling out with several close friends,
being alone, feeling like I just wanted to go away.

Now, I just can’t fill in that gap, I don’t know what,
I think that I was walking around and talking,
but I wasn’t taking in anything, I know what my issue was
I was spending too much energy. I was working weekends,
working the occasional evening during the weekdays, trying to read
at least four books a week and going to university every weekday.

I think I was doing too much.
I am not going to do that again.
I have learned that you have to pick
a specific few things, or people, and put
your energy into them rather than trying
to juggle tons of things and not have it work out.
I guess sometimes we need to extend ourselves too much
in order to realise what we are missing in our lives.

© Kirsty Young and My Place of Dreams, 2015. All rights reserved unless prior permission is given by the author.