Cocoons hang
Caterpillars crawl
Butterflies have wings
Yet I’m floor bound
I’m forced to walk
Jamie curves words like they’re baseballs
They’re coming faster than gale force nine
Ladies and gentlemen
Distressed Butterfly presents his rhymes
Runnin on crooked tracks, I went off the rails
I’m struggling to get back on course
With tremendous torque
Distressed Butterfly drops rhymes
From high up he sees scenes
Another life irony cos I’m floor bound
What goes around comes round
I was drowning in no sound
Its like I was trying to wisper in a loud crowd
I’m ground down, yet I want to float like clouds
Up high, may Distressed Butterfly rise
I won’t quietly die, thats why I write my lines
I’m lookin for my right course, my true north
So Distressed Butterfly slams rhymes
Like her majesty’s finest slam steel doors
And like I’ve said before
Distressed Butterfly flutters but can’t fly
With mushroom clouds in his eyes
He walks, talks & spits in an apocalypse.


As our feet walk the earth
Our minds flaw
So we slam our rhymes SOLID
Like they’re prison doors
Our heads gyratin’
Sanity ailing & frailing
Arms waving wildly whilst drowning
Mentally flailing


Alone I sit. Me, myself and the night. A deep, empty silence. Everything is here, except the light. Don’t know what to do with myself, so I’ll rant some poetical lines. To try to get rid of, the agony in my mind. But I don’t know where to start, with this knotted ball of string. I wish I could soar like a bird, but I’ve got these broken wings. I want so much to be free, fly like a bird. So many voices trapped inside from days gone by, that were simply never heard. So I’m stuck on the ground, I’m afraid to say. But I live in hope, to be free one day.

Jamie Gibbons is a writer, poet, verbalizer and photographer. He has ongoing and lifelong severe mental health difficulties. His arts keep his head above water in what feels like a terrible sea with high stress waves coming in from 360 degrees. His pseudonym is, Distressed Butterfly.