To Be Consumed…


Some people know me as the one who says sorry too much
Apologizing for the sake of apologizing, because I’m sorry
but I can’t be the person you want me to be
I can’t be the one that follows you around and makes you feel safe
because I don’t always feel safe.

That’s not to say that I don’t want you to feel safe around me
Because I do.

But I can’t give someone something that I don’t myself have
I can’t securely give you security while I’m insecure
in the thought that I have what I need, that I’m living how I want, how I need.

I have needs too, and I’ve been frowned on and looked down on
and stepped on by those who wanted to get ahead of me
but I don’t hate them. I respect them.

Because they’re willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want in life
even if that means losing friends.
And maybe that’s because they have.
Maybe it’s because they’ve been hurt in the past and they,
they don’t let anyone in anymore because they’re afraid.

Afraid of being hurt again so they reach.
They reach for the only thing they have left to reach for.
And they can’t afford to stop to let someone in while on the way there.
or maybe, maybe they just won’t let anything hold them down.

but there’s a fatal flaw.
Whether you’ve been hurt in the past, or if you don’t want anyone to hold you down.
You’re still acting out of fear.

Fear of letting someone in.
Fear of being hurt again.
Fear of someone holding you down.

But trust me…I’ve seen these things before. Been on the outside looking in.

Been part of the audience at the circus of freaks.
But I’ve also been on stage.
I’ve been the main attraction.

The lion tamer, the bearded lady, the strong man.
The don’t hold a candle to me.

Because I’ve been consumed by fears.
I’ve watched it devour everything…
I’ve ever loved.

Then I watched it’s gaping jaws descend on me
And I’ve watched as my life was consumed by it.

The fear.

And I won’t let it consume anymore.

©2015 Alexander J Hicks

Alone, There He Sits

This poem is another rather dark piece and is on the topic suicide. Suicide is something very sensitive to me as my father committed suicide in November of 2014. Again, it is not how I feel about myself. If you or someone you love is having thoughts of suicide please please call the suicide prevention hotline.

Canada and the USA: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

A full list of suicide prevention hotlines around the world is available HERE.

A man sits alone
in the place he calls home
and he sits in his chair and he weeps

A tear in his seams
Has wounded his dreams
And upon him, slowly, death creeps

He’s not broken yet
But he can’t forget
How he pushed all of his loved ones away

And now he can tell
That in this living hell
That he’d wishes he’d just let them stay

Now see the blood drip
From his fingertips
As it pools at his feet on the floor.

He’s fought for so long
His defences are gone
And he can’t fight alone anymore

And the pieces he’s lost
That his choices have cost
Have torn his conscious to shreds

His own mind betrayed
Wants not to be saved
So now – there he sits – until dead.

©2015 Alexander Hicks

A Shard of Himself

This poem is a rather dark piece and is on the topic suicide. Suicide is something very sensitive to me as my father committed suicide in November of 2014. Although I wrote this poem with feeling, it is not how I feel about myself. If you or someone you love is having thoughts of suicide please please call the suicide prevention hotline.

Canada and the USA: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

A full list of suicide prevention hotlines around the world is available HERE.

He sits all alone in his room
Picking up what pieces he can
He can’t shake this feeling of doom
as he holds what is left in his hand

The shards have all fallen from him
Like glass from a fell picture frame
The pieces all fall from within
And no one remembers his name

No one remembers the tears
That glistened in his soft eyes
All he can see is the pain and the fear
And all those who told him the lies

He knows that he should regret
Hurting the ones who say that they care
Now waiting for deaths soft caress
Only now he admits that he’s scared

He thinks that he won’t be missed
No more chances, he can’t ask for help
Blood pours when he opens his wrist
With a jagged, sharp shard of himself.

©2015 Alexander Hicks

I will be okay…

Have you ever had someone you love
Take their own life?
Shock sets in first.

The feeling that reality is something that you left in the dust behind you.
And in the coming weeks, part of you will hold on to that.
Part of you will hold on to that so strongly that you will keep looking at the door every time it makes a noise expecting him to walk in, only to see that it’s another person – here to remind you that he’s dead and gone express their condolences – when all you want is to forget that this is real. The shock never goes away.

Part of you will always be in disbelief.

You will want to cry – but you won’t.
Because you can’t.
You can’t cry over what didn’t really happen right?

Then, you will.

The tears will come suddenly. You will not be able to stop them, nor will you want to.

Get used to it.
Every little thing that goes wrong – every little thing that goes right – will bring more tears.
You will cry for hours, days, weeks, maybe even months.

You’ll hate yourself for crying so much, you’ll start to think that all these people – none of these people…

None of these people understand

You’ll be angry at them – at yourself.


Not yet…

But I will be…

Goodbye dad…I miss you…

Happiness Comes to Those Who Wait

I’m broken
Shattered glass in a picture frame
But the pieces are all still there
In the frame.
And I keep lying to myself saying I’m not depressed
That I’m not anxious or lonely
“Happiness comes to those who wait.”
What bullshit. I’ve worked for happiness
I’ve worked to make my life okay
To make myself okay
But it never works
My heart beats to the sound
of a broken drum
It’s sound so lifeless
So quiet, so broken
But every single day I manage to hide it
Every single day I manage to lie
And I hate myself for it
But I can’t show weakness anymore
Because the world is a dangerous place
And to show weakness is to admit defeat
But what if, just what if,
What if Weakness is all I have left to show?
©2014 Alex Hicks

Never to See The Light of Day

So I wrote this poem on October 29th, 2012 and I swore to myself I would never post it. This was when I started to notice things going awry between myself and my former roommate. I realize now, I have no reason to hide it. So here you go:
Every comment is offensive
Every argument a fight
And every time I queston it
I am never right.
Socially an outsider
My writing is all I know
And when someone gets offended
Grief is what I’ll show.
Every time I speak
My comment I’ll retract
Because everything I say
comes out as an attack.
I’m sorry if I appear cold
But this is where it ends
I have no need for fakers
Who pretend to be my friends.
©2012-2013 Alex Hicks

(02/03/2013) Let The Darkness Win

I once had build walls ’round my heart
To protect it from the pain
But all that it served to do
Is let it hit me like a train.
I then tore down the walls
Because I thought I found a friend
But from that person, not as she seemed
I can no longer defend.
My heart is sore
My throat is dry
I can’t see the light
Through this darkened sky.
I’m rebuilding my walls
Not letting anyone in
And tonight may be the night
That I let the darkness win.
©2013 Alex Hicks


So I’ve been feeling incredibly depressed recently for various reasons that I won’t get into. I’m feeling a little bit better today, but my lack-of self esteem is still ever-present. I’m going to see a psychologist in about a week to talk about it.

My previous three poems were rather dark, covering what I carry, what I leave, and what I return with. But today marks the beginning of my journey of self-improvement. I’ve started this journey alone before but hopefully, with medical help, and what couple close friends I have left, I’ll be able to succeed this time…

Hopefully. (Oh look! a hint of positivity!)

Anyway, I made the three poem series into images. I personally really like the images. Let me know what you think.

White Rose

Red Rose

Black Rose

-Alex H.

(29/01/2013) Lost Again

I think I may be stepping back into depression. I spent the last few weeks letting my anger guide my decisions and now I can’t be angry anymore. I thought I was angry at a specific person (I won’t name who) for a time, then I decided I was angry at myself. Then I realized I wasn’t angry at anything specific; I was just angry.
That’s the worst kind of anger. The anger that has no direction, no target, no meaning; but is always there, looming over you like a gargoyle. Now, I feel like I have no direction. I’ve spent so long letting my anger blind me, that now that I can see again, the sun is far too bright.
I wrote a poem last night before I fell asleep. That’s why i didn’t post it yesterday. I’ve decided to hold off on videoes until I can figure out what I’m doing. I’ll still be doing audio recordings though. I’ll be putting them up on weekends.

(29/01/2013) Lost Again


I think I’m lost again
I don’t know where to go
All these years of planning
And I’ve hit a plateau.
Maybe I’m just out of place
The city’s not for me
I just feel I don’t belong
And it took 12 years to see.
It’s time I leave for good
Never to return
I’ll walk the road away from here
And I’ve got one last bridge to burn.
©2013 Alex Hicks