The Doodlebug

The Doodlebug has doodle hands,
Doodle feet and does a Doodle dance,
Doodle doodle goes the Doodlebug,
On the walls and on the rug,
The Doodlebug doodles for all,
For everyone, big or small,
The Doodlebug is a part of you,
A part of me and the neighbor too,
She wiggles and waggles,
And jiggles all over,
She doodles and dawdles,
And dances moreover,
She just wants to remind you,
And me, for that matter,
That doodles and drawbooks,
Should never dust gather,
So pick up those pencils,
Or crayons or pens,
And let’s all go back,
To doodling again!

Talk me down

Talk me down

From the ledge, the edge of existence

About to jump, just talk me down 

From this craziness in my brain, 

This infinite insanity, just wont let go of me

Surround me with arms and eyes 

Tell me you’ll watch over me

Soul sister, soul mate, friend, father, 

Mother maybe, just a sole connection

That could be just all I need to fill

This emptiness within,

This walking talking shell I’ve become 

Never had any control

Or maybe I did and I just didn’t know

That I could say no, 

To the voices screaming in my head

Telling me I’m not perfect, that I must be

Just the way I’m expected to be

Strong yet soft, thoughtful yet bold

A goddess and a whore

A beacon of joy and yet serene

Sometimes not heard just seen

What does it even mean?

Just that I’m not enough maybe

And that this was always where 

I would end up,

This ledge, the edge of my existence

In your own head

Sometimes you need to have hope

Hope in the midst of the prison

You put yourself in

It’s all that’s keeping you afloat

In the sea of your own despair

Drowning, drowning, always drowning

Grasping for air

And for a hand, a branch, 

Even a leaf that’ll hold you there,

Keep you from being pulled away

By the strength of these currents 

But they are of your own making

These voices in your head

These raging rapids of failure of self doubt

The years of telling yourself you’re not good enough

Your size, your height, your colour, your race 

Hell, even just the lines on your face

They say it’s just not good enough

When will it stop? 

Mirror mirror on the wall

Who really is the sanest of all

Is there even such a thing as sanity

Or is it just pride masquerading as vanity

Is it just me up here in my head

But then who am I when I’m writing in bed

Alone at night when the world is asleep

Pseudo intellectual and I try to dig deep

This is all I have, all of myself

Not good enough, maybe but then again

Just this once something takes root

And I tell myself I’ll try this one too