Fading Away

I don’t want to talk,
Don’t call me ‘brave’ or ‘resilient’,
I just want to fade, be numbed,
Feel a spiritual anaesthetic in my veins –
Don’t give me compliments,
Their falseness turns my stomach.

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The Hogwarts Tag

I first saw this tag over at My Bookish Dream and I thought that it looked really fun, especially considering that I am obsessed with everything magical and Harry Potter related! You can go over and read her post here.

1. Are you a Pure-Blood or Half-Blood?

According to the DoQuizzes quiz, I am a pure-blood. I don’t know whether to be happy about this or not but coming from a magical family sounds like an interesting childhood!

2. Which wand chose me?

According to Pottermore, it was an alder wood wand with a unicorn hair core, 10 inches long and quite bendy.

3. Did you take a cat, owl or toad with you?

This is a difficult question because I would love the company of a cat but I absolutely love writing and sending letters which would be an easier task with an owl. Also, leaving the owl to be looked after in the Owlery would be less responsibility than having to look after a cat yourself the whole time at school, plus Hedwig totally won me over and made me an owl fan. So, I think I would have taken an owl along with me.

4. Where did the Sorting Hat put you?

I am in Slytherin; the house of the most shrewd, cunning, resourceful and ambitious students!

5. What House did you want to be placed in?

I always had a sort of affinity with Slytherin, however I could see the merits in being in any of the four houses, so I wasn’t too desperately attached to the idea of being in either.

6. What lessons are your favourite and least favourite?

My favourite is Defence Against the Dark Arts because it is the most practical of the classes and involves learning a lot about every area of magic. My least favourite is divination because honestly Professor Trelawney gives me the creeps a bit and those lessons would get me easily bored I think.

7. What is your patronus?

My patronus is a buzzard which is quite cool considering that it is an animal which can fly.

8. What does your boggart look like?

Me in my old age having never undergone my gender transition and still feeling the same level of anxiety and sadness which I feel on a daily basis now. This is the most scary thing I can think of to be honest, if I let myself down and never make the progress I want to in life, I can’t imagine living in the same level of emotional pain which burdens me on a daily basis currently.

9. Do you partake in any magical hobbies or school sports?

It would be quite cool to use magic to do cool craft projects, like Mrs Weasley does with her self-knitting needles!

10. Where would you spend your spare time?

In the Slytherin common room probably or chilling-out at The Three Broomsticks!

11. What would you most likely get detention for?

Probably for being late to lessons because my sense of direction isn’t brilliant so I could easily end-up getting lost on my way to class.

12. What career do you want after graduating Hogwarts?

I would be an author of fiction books for witches and wizards and would hope that my stories would be common knowledge amongst magical families!

 

Anyone reading this who fancies doing this tag, I tag you!

If you want to read my daily ramblings, follow me on Twitter – @RyanBInNature.

Find some of my other Harry Potter posts below:

The Harry Potter Tag

The Wisdom of Rubeus Hagrid

5 Lessons I Learned From The Harry Potter Books

Is The Internet Poisoning My Mind?

Life takes on a different sense of touch
When my eyes are not grazed,
Or pricked by poisoned pixels
Invading my mind via osmosis
From a scarily familiar screen.

Expecting The Worst

I surprise myself
When my ink does not make me gag;
To enjoy an impression of my existence
Is a call to confidence,
Harking from deep inside my soul.

It’s strange how very menacing
A morsels is to consume
If it hails from the fibres
Of your own energised hands,
Bearing the weight of your fingerprints.

Scared To Write?!

Is it ironic to write about writers’ block? Probably, but it feels like the only way to exercise this frustration I am feeling with myself. I have a lot of blog post ideas rattling around in my head but I cannot muster-up the confidence to actually make them come to life on my computer screen. Sometimes I get as far as writing the title but then the image of unimpressed readers’ faces float before my eyes and I convince myself that no-one will be interested in what I have to say.

It’s frustrating, largely because I know that I should be writing for myself rather than trying to complete the impossible task of writing to please anyone and everyone who could possibly stumble across my post.

Without the release of writing on this blog, a build-up of emotions start to compile inside me which is difficult to navigate without an outlet.

A list of draft posts, all asking for my attention, are left unfinished to differing degrees. I cannot conjure the energy to conquer all of the voices telling me to give-up trying with my writing ideas, so I just leave the drafts to gather metaphorical dust.

All of the poems I have been posting recently, I wrote in one hour on a couple of days (largely when a measure of desperation had set-in and I knew that I had no other choice to write-out my distress otherwise it was going to eat me up inside). It’s hard to have confidence in what your mind is telling you to write when you are struggling to trust your own mind in the first place. So, I start and then all of my insecurities and worries come crashing back down into the forefront of mind – a weight of thoughts I do not always want to wade through.

Bear with me, if you will.

 

Finding Comfort In A Bottle – Part Two

I love the seizing ache
As it spreads across my chest,
Powerful and raw like wildfire;
It blazes a trail down my body
Resting in my stomach where it burns
As my whole body yearns towards it.

The longing to seize this power
And draw it down me never ends –
It’s a part of me –
The portion of my whole which craves
More destruction, the release
Coming from such sickly, manipulative liquid.

Despite the warnings, the stop signs,
Before it reaches my mouth,
The liquid release settles inside me anyway,
Leaving it’s mark burnt into my being
And caressing the lost parts of me
Which it makes a point to find and seek.

 

The first instalment of this poem can be found here: Finding Comfort In A Bottle

 

 

Flawed Hope

I might suck the vitamins from my tongue
Lame as a tamed, feral animal,
However, their colourful bottle fools me;
When promise comes in a capsule
Your ground has already slipped away.

Under The Puppeteer’s Control

Do you know what it is like,
The electric charge in my head?
It sends shockwaves to my fingers,
Vibrates the crux of my bones
And sends me skidding into the night.

As uncontrolled hands fly over my head –
My body a veritable war zone –
I look to my feet, scolding them,
Before I remember the puppeteer is above
So dominant, it kills my control.

My Anxious Chest

Anxiety has a smothering hug;
Like a mother bear who pretends to protect you
Whilst it goes about suffocating your existence,
To the point where your lungs are a cage
And the locked bars on your lips allow no escape.

Anxiety has the manipulative claws of a monster;
It pretends to protect you from potential
Doom, then goes about crushing your skull
With the pressure of an invading force
Which, guiltily, you let in in the first place.

Welded into a cage designed by your fears,
What lies outside the bars is always a threat,
Movements and sounds are menacing
When the sky cannot even by trusted
And your hope for a future comes crumbling down.

Survival Mode

I curl myself into a ball
To save myself –
Stave off the jeering knives,
Make them wait another day
For me to expose my tissue paper flesh.

I fall asleep on my hand
Because the yellow lights pull
My eyelids down,
So the veins, like crossroads,
Slither so narrow – they shut.

 

YOU CAN FIND ME HERE…

Twitter – @RyanBInNature

Instagram – @awalkwithnature00