Three Poems

By Devon Webb

GIFTED KID BURNOUT

My brain is a page of poetry

floating on the surface of a

bath I cannot drain

ink swirling into the grey

paper congealing & losing shape

I have so much to say

& never enough time &

not enough stability

I’m a story that needs telling & telling

& is never quite told

consistently half-finished

endings into beginnings &

back again so you never quite know

where you started

I know there was a girl,

she’s still here

but there’s also a mess

there’s also this tiredness

tugging at my shoulder-blades

every second of those

days where you can’t quite get out of bed

but you have to,

because you’re a gifted kid &

gifted kids don’t sleep only

skirt that nearby heat

the borderline temptation of burning out

what an idea – a final flash

before stillness, submersion

what a concept but I

cannot stop only

catch my breath

catch my feelings

in never-ending ink on infinite pages

a gift that keeps on

giving & giving

& burning & burning

till the smoke’s just part of the scene.

ALL MY VARIOUS ISSUES

I am dancing a waltz

with my substance addiction issues

I am stuck in an ADHD loop

of deeply ingrained repeating patterns

I am fighting against the rain

to feel like doing something today

I am a mess of toothache

& empty beer bottles & lost sleep

I am sick

sometimes it feels like I’ve been sick for

as long as I can remember

I collect obscure eating disorders

& physical eccentricities

like properties in monopoly

I fight to get better be better but

some days it all weighs down on me

like all my various issues are colliding

like my endometriosis, IBS & addictive personality

are hosting a dinner party in my tummy

& I don’t get a choice about being invited

imagine if my body could feel normal for like one day

imagine if my brain could actually concentrate

on my knees begging the overloaded mental health system for a diagnosis

so I don’t have to self-medicate… unsustainably

drinking so I’ve got energy smoking weed so I can sleep

one day I’m gonna hack this puzzle

& then they’ll see what I can be.

WHAT AN AUTISTIC MELTDOWN FEELS LIKE

It feels like a big scream

with a body like a snake uncoiling

it feels like a storm inside

& your throat a window shattering

It feels like sitting in the backseat

of your parents’ car age seven

in your head pulling up

every street lamp you see

by the roots

It feels like I am a tiny Godzilla

It feels like the elemental blast spell in

Skyrim & accidentally killing your follower

It feels like I could devastate the world

but what world then left for me

It feels like Quinni tearing her

pictures from her bedroom walls

It feels like Will Byers breaking his castle

It feels like all the replies on Twitter

being bigots with blue ticks

It feels like noise you can’t shut off

It feels like bees in your head

like the Beast in The Magicians

pulling out Dean Fogg’s eyes

only the Beast is you & this is the

first season of a whole five

It feels like losing control & having

nothing to show for it but hurt

like self-destruction drawn out

like being possessed by your worst self

like setting everything you love on fire

just so you know why it burns.