Mental Burden (Spoken Word)

Society has this stigma
That tells us to be quiet
We are confined to our own minds
and inside them we will riot

We will tear down the walls
till we fall to our knees,
and hope that somebody
will answer our pleas.

If we speak they call us liars,
if we act they seem surprised,
if we think and think and think again
our mind is paralysed.

We are locked inside a nightmare
with a monster called Despair.
No hope of finding peace of mind
Or somebody who cares.

Or someone who will listen,
like the pillow hears our cries.
Like the bed carries our burden
as our minds destabilise.

We are not what we believe
but we need a helping hand
we just need a friend to comfort
and a friend to understand.

We can tell them with our words
if they would only stop to hear
if society stopped silencing
perhaps we would not fear

speaking out when we are broken
giving voices to the weak
as we find the strength to be the ones
to fight for what we seek.

This may be our mental burden
but we must know we’re not alone
there are those who wish to help us
those who’ve fought it and have grown

We come face to face with demons,
all those who undermine us
but together we’re united,
we will not let them define us

~ Andrew
I’m going to be doing some more Spoken Word pieces over the next few months hopefully (time permitting). This one in particular I hold very close to my heart. Today is time to change day 2017. It’s about overcoming the stigma against Mental Illness.
I could go on for hours about this topic but I feel the less I say the better. If you’re reading this and you’re struggling there are many helpful sources which I will list a few of below

Suicide Hotlines: 

Samaritans in particular has a special place in my heart for helping me a few years ago:
116 123 is the number to call from all UK mobiles/landlines or email:


The Wounds You Never Saw

I came home,
with bruises I hid like lies
rather than say,
here’s one they made earlier.

I smile,
because at least at home,
I’m a little less intimate with walls.
A little less familiar with brickwork
from an inch away.

And in the medicine cupboard,
there are no plasters
to stitch up my fractured confidence,
no pain killers to kill the pain
of facing society
and feigning bliss.

This is the wound
you never saw.

This is the tear soaked table
head in hands
unable to smile.

This is the concrete kissing
grazed arms and ego
Battered boy you watched fall.

This is the one missed call.

The dial tone beeping,
late nights sleeping alone
the echoing voices
the words that were thrown

the bullets that bullies,
could fire at will,
the gaps in affection
that hatred would fill

This is the wound
that never surfaced.

Because thick skin
and a grin
is enough to sell a lie.

Because even when you try
to scream
your voice is muffled
by sorrow’s stream

and choking tears
sung lullabies,
as pillows heard
the muffled cries.

This is the scar
that I’m still wearing
and to this day
the world is staring

~ Andrew
I felt inspired to write this to reflect on the bullying that I experienced because no matter how much stronger I become there is still a mark on my past that follows me day by day.