Once upon a time Before the clock flew by and fun was had. Before the madness and sadness choked away the glad Before the mind cried mad and caved to the bad I was whole. A perfect godlike being. Godlike as in pure and innocent with no blemish nor imperfection. Apart from the anger, the inability to walk correctly and the lazy eye. Then the tock of clocks knocking on the walls of my mind. As events called life chipped and chiselled a baby worth breaking into a boy worth making. As the anger surfaced and became the only emotion i knew how to express. Product of environment. Bullied and berated, tortured and hated by reflections Nature cruel like cradles as adults bickered about a boy not quite right. Again ticking tackled the twisting of the teenager. As danger became a diagnosis a thill is sought and words of venom spoke. Serpent unrelenting, chaos equals venting and hate now renting space behind this face of fear and… I catch myself as I fall to pieces. Reinvent. Renew rebuild a better me. I count 3 so far and its a charm that 4th strike became an adult. Irresponsible forced to become responsible I don’t respond to it all but often flit between the rage and hate to the anger. To the pity of the before mes and seeing their graves pissed on like a promise kept left in a trauma of words that should never be spoken. The dust settled and yet again like a china doll dropped by a careless carrier i shatter among the stains of tears and accompany the former losses of my sanity, my personas, my lives. I must be cat. At the least I have spent 4 and now I stand here. Glue in hand. Made from the broken pieces of past selves. Its not so bad. I learned how to be human. I found out what made me mad. A crazy. The cuckoo of the clock sat firmly in the family tree. Asperger’s. So they say. All I know is that I have lost a lot. I’ve been broken, But I am still here. Bigger. Better But made. From Pieces.
By John Sean Mannix