So the Cycle Continues

Twisted and torn is the page that read;
I don’t belong- 
at least I thought my family felt that way.

Turn the page and tear it away;
now tattered 
is the page that read I’ve got no stability.

What do you know about mental health anyway?

It took ten years to heal, and more than half of them
didn’t even know what healing was yet.

See, you helped me with none of that.

I remember the first day depression hit me-
it was more than the school bully tugging on my hair.

I remember my first feeling of complete hopelessness
 as I first felt what death was.

Nine years old and it’s still the only thought 
that ever screamed to me so loudly in my life, 

“What’s the point in anything?” 
I said to myself so loudly with fear, 
“I’m going to die anyway. . .

 So die.” 

-I told myself to;

and my first attempt at self harm, 
before I even knew what I was it was; 

Depression came,
straightened out the end of an old metal coat hanger,
and scraped my skin until it welted over.

Swollen, tender and red but no blood
-only nine years old.

Somehow it just felt better. . .

and of course it escalated later to further self harm of all different forms, 
but the worst kinds were the ones of the mind; 

Always poking and prodding, 
tearing me down 
when all I was trying to do is 

survive. 

I wanted to thrive, 
sure I could go out, 
feel good with friends, 
but then when left alone again, 
here comes the thought; 

“What’s the point?”

And so, suddenly, 
I'm dying again. 

Nostalgia Bites

Sinking into the past
seems to be all I ever do,

sometimes there's nothing

left to think about

but the comfort of a few

good times gone by.

Quickly they become crowded

by the feeling of nothing left

to look forward to,

then flood in the memories amiss.

I don't miss anymore;
I don't look at our photos,

I don't read the memoirs,
I don't search for you
like you do me.

I remember different from you;

where you remember happy,

I remember angst and uneasiness,

where you remember love,

I remember babble and hearsay,

where you remember friendship,

I remember a spiteful and evil eye.

My future and today are all I have,
they're the only friends I need

that haven't been here since square one.

Instant Gratification

It's a thing that luck grants you
and while certain things comes easily,
and quickly to some.

Certain things become
harder and harder to earn,
to see in others;

common sense,
common decency,
common courtesy.

It's important to remember yourself
through the thick of getting
what you want out of life,

before becoming prone
to being devoured
by your newly found fortune.

Let Go of My Arm

You were possessive, aggressive, obsessive,

and I was so clearly sixteen,

apprehensive, perceptive, susceptive.

I'll demonize you if I want to,

you went in for the hug

I never wanted. . .

I pull as far away as possible

because they warned me about you.

Yet you don't take the hint

and grab me anyway

pulling me into an

incredibly uncomfortable embrace.

So, as I walked away so clearly upset

you take my arm as if it's yours

and so quickly try to clear the air.

You're not making yourself look good to me,

or anyone else around us,

so please stop trying,

and leave me alone.

I’ve Been there Before

No matter how loud you speak

some will never listen

and usually they're the ones closest to you.

Too busy listening to the one

with the anus made of gold,

but it doesn't matter what it's made of

it's not pretty no matter how you dress it up.

Sometimes you need to look outside yourself

and just be okay with living in the shadow,

pride is a powerful thing

but don't let it lead you to the same level

that led you in the shadow in the first place.

Your character is worth more

than you give it credit for

despite the indignant, sad, sullen, soul.

Be careful because your bitterness

just might bite you in the end.

Remember the shadow isn't a bad place to be,

it's relatable,
it's a place so many have seen.

Yes, it Actually Happened

When I was alone,

I heard you speak to me

in every song the hospital radio played.

I've done the best I can,

I won't be here tomorrow,

sometimes goodbye is a second chance.

It wasn't ours,

it was a goodbye

to a set of circumstances

that grew old.

I honestly thought my life was over,

just a whisper in my ear,

all I could remember was trying to take my life.

I didn't even realize I was still alive,

so imagine not knowing your spirit still thrives

in your, living, breathing body.

I mourned myself,

became someone else,

first afraid, then bitter,

and every kind of person imaginable

but eventually stronger.

I wanted to go, needed to go

sick of swimming against the current;

letting my delusions drown me with fear,

anxiety, depression,

the feeling of being trapped in myself,

the surreal version of the world I saw,

and still see sometimes today.

Let's bring back some bad memories

of actions with no explanations,

was I just dreaming?

I couldn't sleep,

I could never sleep. 

So, how could that be?

No Matter How Deep You Dig

Grandma removed her face

last night before she went to bed.

It may have been a dream,

but she took it off as naturally

as she would her dentures

or hearing aids.

What was beneath the skin?

Nothing frightening,

but something I found

somewhat beautiful instead.

I found myself asking her

to take it off in an attempt

to better know what was underneath.

Raw and vulnerable to the elements,

with the ability to become dry and cracked.

Everything under that mask of skin
had become too familiar

with the seasons of this world

and the people in it.

The lesson learned;
at some point it's too late to
get to know a person.

Smaller than my Own Pinky

When I was still a single digit,

one summer my father found

a baby bird fallen

out of an evergreen.

My failed attempt to rescue

the tiny bird,

smaller than my pinky

is still an emotional upset

I do my best to make up for

with every life I save;

a dog at one end of my couch,

a mischief at the other,

a rabbit down the hall

beyond the kitchen

at the end of the stairway

where my basement belongs.

All at one point,

smaller than my pinky

but each a life worth saving, 
because even I once was.

Transience

You pour your soul
into a world that someday
won't remember you.

You come
sing your song
and dance
your job is done.

Live your life to disappear
but enjoy it while you're here.

Take a deep breath
and some day
let your life go in a
dizzying sigh.

Something Like a Sonata

Listening to the crackling dust on a record

has me wishing I could have composed

a waterfall of keys that tap the strings

aggressively,

sadly,

sometimes even peacefully.