top of page

Compartmentalising

Separate, A divide, I am me of performance

I am me: real, brain fried



I don't like mixing professional and personal spaces, when presenting a partial image of me. Partial's fine, that's all that they need to see.

But, then when lines are crossed and a colleague brings real me conversations into the performance space, it wrecks my spirit, destroys my curve balls flowing

Errors flying, elbows trying

Pushing my ritualistic boxings

and not allowing me to own my rightful space



'Neurotic', catatonic

You noticed my neurodivergence

Makes me feel I blurred lines, whether or not

you want it

Inside I'm their tonic

but there needs to be elements, never even

truly, dishonest

Just gaps, spacings, manipulation

Keeping for me, mine, my time

Those that I want to know me

They know me when I'm in spaces

that can safely, disgracefully (!!)

rebelliously, be mine




Then, when we are in the work environment

You may know my soul

But, I'm spacing me gently


I'm curiosity

I'm just a little bit

All the time!



Let it out

in my own moments

If I can't compartmentalise

It voids my time

If you shed the layers of real, vulnerability

Not theirs

Trauma,

eyes beyond the shine





Compartmentalise


or slide

I am sweet poison

and we are the ride

In shapes of rigid

and undefined

I’m mysterious

Held inside

An image of maintenance

But you step inside

Merging two worlds

within earshot

and towards, myself inwards

unkind

If I can separate

Close the door at the end of

the day, regenerate

There should be a world where

there’s no need to layer

up, degrade me, silence

A controlled amount of me

on a teaspoon

but they feel it’s a plate

Answering questions

but saying nothing

Honest, I don’t denigrate

But, when I feel comfy one on one

Or overwhelmed and I emerge

The 'positives' of my ADHD

The strengths you’d never want to

live with

But observe -

You find them charming

In restrained, I’m your unreserved

You’re there with me

Don’t point at the drawing

and tell you where it hurts

Usurped

Because you take my casual

and you bring it into a space

And make that the world

Fingers unfurled

but I want them tight and safe

and performing

Your specific world

With fluorescent underneath

and wispy curls

I relish being me

but not in their earshot

Their world

I love knowing that I’m me underneath

How it should be

Bouncing, floating, footwork

On a pendulum

Your steps work

They make me click in with you

So, when you talk to me

with vultures all around you

The tanks, the iced boxes

not a level playing field

but a herd

I’m OK with that

But then you ask me questions

and I can’t be anything but me

I answer honestly

Drawn into my real world

The universe blown up for me

and by that, I mean in large

I squint to see the framed portraits

and acting ‘proper’ after dark

You ask me and I wish you hadn’t

because I can’t not use my heart

I either get obsessed with your needs

and emotions

Dedicated to trying to fix

In my one day, this last day, in your moment

your fight

But, everyday is that moment for you

and I missed being present

in trying

Not my job to make it alright

And you ask me questions

I open honestly, and you got

in

and now gates open too wide

You touched on topics in my

performance space

The stage show

I’m centred in

Vulnerability of mine

Why can’t I bring it up?

and then never do in earshot

of anyone else

I have to compartmentalise

I can’t give pieces of my truest self

Just go along with life

surrounded

Words created, only for spaces without

them ever

Or without the me, inside


It’s an extension of the me that they see

The digibox, the connector

The sharks swirm

They deny

and I have this mechanism

The always of many spaces

and lifebelts

When you ask me what I love

I’m honest

Once a week, or so,

But can’t be anything else

I’m fizzing over the tea party

and it just can’t

Just can’t, be helped

This is not about me

It’s not supposed to be that place

It’s chinking tea cups, sugar cubes

and the correct words

Tongue in cheek phrases

The glitter and the force field

that grips joy tight when you’re

from that place

She’d never use expletive’s

Except, when there’s passion

when she’s hers

I’m passion

but controlled passion

Their spouts and handles of decorations

A me

Deciding when she, even, wants to be heard

(Heard, listened, you're free)


I say words, you shift them

in pretty presentation

I hate myself for being blinder to the predators

in which you may not believe

This is not my space

It’s my time to give to you

and for your tranquil or excitement

to settle inside your cage

When I admit that I’m a human golden retriever

I became too much of an expert, open page

Closed-off, public desktop

On account of all my rage




We listen to Taylor Swift

The audience nod heads to Never

Getting Back Together

But you hear Would’ve Should’ve

The twisting of words

Leak, of my insides

But only in this place

Same person

I don’t raise it

I choose the place

You can't take my identity

and show it in 'your' time



....




people pleasing





tara star poet


..




Recent Posts

See All

コメント


bottom of page