Stop Doing That

Before you read, this is a free-verse poem, so if you would rather listen to it or listen to it whilst reading to understand it from the spoken word, please feel free to use the following recording:

Stop Doing That

Stop doing that.

Doing what?

Doing that, all of that!

All of what?

All of everything!

But I didn’t do anything!

The same string of words coiling round my throat,

A noose that, who, exactly wrote?

Where I grapple and scrap just to keep afloat,

Even though I didn’t do anything unfair!

But really, who cares what’s wrong from right,

When easy avoids that fight.

And right when you believe you can no longer be deceived,

That’s when you hear the broken record play that ad nauseam leitmotiv:

“I’m sorry, you’re too much for me,

All that energy,

It’s overwhelming to be around,

I drown in dread from when you’ll snap.

A trap hand wrapped in yellow faux-naif.

So many emotions, it’s a toxic potion.

Bubbles and laughs hand-fast to stress and depress,

It’s all so messed,

A test, but walking on eggshells is utter hell!

It’s always intense cause you’re so damn sensitive.

This devil-may-care flare of an attention seeking narcissist,

I concede a lazy, reckless, feckless liar!

High strung liar, obtuse liar, cut loose footloose,

Liar liar pants on fire!

All the good memories we may have made,

The good times when you were my partner in crime,

It’s gone. All gone.

I can’t do this anymore. I’m done.

It’s no longer any fun.”

The same string of words coiling round my throat,

A noose that maybe, I also wrote,

And I’m sorry that me being me isn’t as easy as ABC,

But I can’t be free from being a late diagnosed ADHD.

So please understand that this isn’t an excuse,

Please believe me that I’ve not got a screw loose,

Please hear me when I say, I truly sincerely care.

Please! This just isn’t fair.

Give me a chance, a chance to change.

Just please, please, don’t leave me again.

I’m screaming, I’m shouting, I’m crying out all the time,

But my calls aren’t even worth a dime.

They say, ‘mother knows best’, ‘listen to the teacher,’

‘Adhere to the doctor’s orders,’:

Sit still and stop being manic.

Don’t panic! Just pay attention.

Fidget less, you’re such a mess.

Easier still, just stop being you!

So, I do.

I become an empty etch-a-sketch with ink of red,

For everyone else’s unprovoked careless spoken thoughts,

Disregard their works of art, the gnawing pain.

Rather, I scrub and scrub until my slain skin is raw.

But stains can’t go, and I can no longer ignore,

These patterns that I’m ashamed of,

Nor my own demonic claws,

Drowning in that red aphonic ink.

That demon is known as ADHD,

And it will always be a part of me.

That demon that’s inside of me,

It has always been my frenemy.

And that demon doesn’t just frighten me,

It frightens my friends and my family.

And in the end, they’ll always leave,

No matter the truths I spin and weave.

So, I really should stop doing that.

You know? That.

All of that.