Tornado

I feel lost
Slightly b r ok e n inside
As if something’s been smashed to smithereens
Or the rock pumping my blood is slowly imploding

Yet there’s a burning sensation
A fickle yet encouraging ray of hope
Deceptive? Probably.
But not enough to stop me waiting for something ExtraOrdinary
Which will help break the barriers
I built around me

Hush the tears
Dry the screams
Stop the confusion!
Surrounding my crazy delusions

What am I waiting for to take me away?
Away from the disappointment, abuse, subordination, anxiety…
But this begs the question,
Why don’t I just leave?
Or do we have no fREe wILl in this society
And is even ‘nothing’ determined by everything else?

My hands are handcuffed
As three parallel rivers stream down my face
The invisible padlock against my lips feeling rigid and cold
And like a tornado
I lack any ounce of control I may have had
But that’s only because I lack

direction
Because I have no idea what or
where or who I should be

Expectations.
What will you achieve by reading this poem?
Not much, probably.
What do I achieve by existing?
Not much, probably.
Would I achieve anything by stopping though?
Not, much…probably?

I just want to find my destination
But I’m filled with anger and hesitation
So I can’t really enjoy the journey
Unless I use medication or attempt meditation

But what do I know?
It’s late and I’m irate
Feel like I’ve been locked up in a box
Squashed, moulded and cast by someone else
Then chucked into outer space
My mind has been sucked out but I’m left with a twisted soul.
Damaged goods, I am.

I don’t expect you to understand
But I’m sure some of you can relate,
If you’ve ever been a 17 year old
Feeling slightly out of

place.