The Kelp Manifesto

Loose Ends

When did life decide to throw up so many loose ends?

Where are your friends?

They've gone every which way, forgotten relationships you don't have the time or desire to mend,

you feel twangs of sadness but its lingering leaves no trend,

you think of messages to send,

but why you're doing it you can't comprehend.

People come and go,

such a chain of dead weight can't be kept in tow,

but realisation dawns that the dead weight is you,

therefore you keep strong bonds with the few,

they claim they believe in you and will always stay with you,

but how can it be believed when you can't even believe enough to break your own barriers through.

There was always a next step,

goals in the mind that formed structure and concept,

but one day it's gone and you feel like for years and years you've slept,

tied in an iron coil accumulating debt and the worry turns to crippling fret,

for what? And to what end?

You feel there is nothing to which your skills can put out an aiding hand.

The establishment doesn't want you,

there is no merit to you,

those close to you tell you don't believe it, it's not true,

you know this but it still doesn't get through,

doubts brew and hatred of yourself sprouts, strengthens and starts anew,

you want to vent and moan, but it all comes back to you.

Who knew? The person who had control was the one who's mind you occupy,

occupy because you feel that in your true body you do not lie,

the real you is somewhere else, getting by,

but maybe that is one huge lie,

why should it all come together? The doubts don't have to subside,

with self-pity you become tied and with an anti-establishment attitude you become solely occupied.

You're alone and this only lowers the tone,

people don't have to answer the phone,

they are only ever there with you as a disposable loan,

they will never belong to you, they have their own problems to own,

you can't occupy their entire zone,

as much as you may believe it, the world is not yours to dictate and own.

Blows come at times you didn't think possible,

loss looms over you, a beast colossal,

perspective only adds bitterness, you cannot mope when life is not total,

you have your health, you're young, you have all reasons to be hopeful,

but your life isn't even in front of you in note form,

the page is torn, the book deformed, hope forlorn.

As time passes and phases end, loved ones go with it,

this person could not dwell in this verse of your life's sonnet,

you dwell on it, tears are shed on it,

perhaps it serves as a line to not step back across and retrace on it,

yet another reason to push forth and battle through it,

to sulk would be an insult to your namesake who you will always carry through it.

Rest easy, play freely,

that creativity I will never replicate truly,

but I will try to harness that disregard for convention in my own creativity,

I'm just trying to find my way right now, things feel unruly,

Like a messy head of hair, I will harness the comb and eradicate the unruly,

Like you, it will all be breezy.

You left us unwillingly and for others that have, these loose ends will be tied,

those that have left me through choice will be shoved aside,

tears for them I have cried,

I've been deceived and told lies,

I've seen the deception in their eyes,

there will be plenty of reminders of what they have lost, what their own hurt has denied.

They know who they are,

I wish them happiness, they are the ones who have to live with the scars,

the scars I hope plague them and make them question who they are,

what is dealt out will linger immensely far,

it sticks and coats like tar,

when they look at themselves in the mirror, I hope what looks back is worthy of the past harm.

Perhaps these blows are all a test,

am I strong enough to rise to the top of the nest, above the rest?

for now it is all a mess,

I would say from my path I digress,

but never has the path seemed more distorted, its clarity less,

Never have I felt less fresh.

Give me something, anything,

am I to be left with nothing?

must I take everything for myself, stealing?

stealing what I am owed whilst busy grieving,

it appears there is no time for healing,

my mind cannot switch off, it cannot ever stop believing.

Like the path in front of us these lines are an amalgamation of feelings, some for you and some for me, a shambles,

ideas in handfuls, but in structure there are no bundles,

doubt, like thunder, rumbles,

on and on and on, motivation only crumbles,

aspiration tumbles,

I just hope in this heap of nothing comes an opening in the trees, if so, into it we will stumble.