Happy 100 followers!!

So, guess what? Today, goldfishandthemicrophone.com just hit its first 100 followers!

I’ve been working toward this for a long time. When I started this blog (please no one go back and look at my old posts!) I didn’t even really know how much I wanted to promote it, how much I cared if it was successful. It was just my little corner of the internet, my safe place. It was just for me–more than it was for anyone else.

As a writer and as a person I’ve come a long way since that day. I’ve refined my style into something clear that I can actually kind of define. I’ve developed my own unique voice. I’ve gotten braver, more willing to share my work and my feelings with the world. I’ve learned how to design graphics for the web, how to… I don’t know, at least attempt to market myself. I’ve gotten help, and… I’ve gotten better. I’m not going to say I’m doing great, but I have gotten better. I’ve grown more confident. I’ve gotten older. So much has changed.

So thank you so much, all of you, for your support–for reading the new posts and for liking and commenting and following. I really appreciate it, and I can’t wait to see how far this site will go in the future. ❤


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a responsibility i am so, so not ready for

a vague weight on my shoulders. can’t breathe. clock ticking on my shoulders. still can’t breathe. 

moonlight through the curtains makes me want to scream. iamaliveiamaliveiamalive. or something. i think.

sipping coffee too late at night. trying to keep the hunger away from my already drooping eyes. 

this is not to say i’m helpless. this is to say that right now, life is hard. and maybe i’m not the cute little kid i used to be anymore. 

sometimes, i look in the mirror and i just want to explode for all the things that are depending on me. i guess that’s anxiety. 

sometimes, i stare up at the ceiling late at night and wonder why i’m even trying.

sometimes, i get home from school and i just want to disappear. so i can never make mistakes. so i can never hurt anybody. so maybe, maybe, i don’t have to worry.

and it shouldn’t feel like a sign of failure that i can never find the heart to punish myself that way. it shouldn’t feel like a sign of failure that i am not perfect today. it shouldn’t feel like a sign of failure that sometimes, i just need to cry. okay?




let me tell you about anxiety

let me tell you about anxiety

let me tell you about a thudding heart, and a racing mind, and you spin around in circles trying to find a way out, but there’s nowhere to hide. not when the monster lives on the inside.

let me tell you about paralyzed behind school bookshelves, because it’s all too loud, and overwhelming, and they’re all probably looking at you, and they’re going to hurt you. it’s just a matter of time.

let me tell you about holding your breath, and counting to ten, and trying to numb out all the blinding colours as best as you can.

let me try to explain the way the fear taunts you, and torments you, and plays with your head until you’d do anything to make it stop. even just for a minute.

let me tell you how exhausting it is to be this afraid. every. single. day. and then still force yourself to hold on to a steady face, and pretend you’re ok, but you’re not ok. this isn’t ok.

let me tell you about wiping the symptoms off your skin, only you can’t do that, so the next best thing is to just cover it in concealer, and mask it in foundation, and fake a smile, and maybe no one will notice me if i just try to fit in. 

let me tell you about anxiety, and maybe this time you’ll get it. maybe this time, you won’t lecture me, or change the topic every time i try to explain it.

let me tell you about anxiety, and maybe this time, we won’t be alone in it. because maybe you have monsters too. maybe you’ve been through your own shit.

let me tell you everything. let me tell you how scared, and confused, and tired i am of all of this. let me fall apart in your arms, and promise that you won’t hate me afterward.

because i am so, so tired. because it’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok that it’s not ok. and i know it feels like the world is falling apart, but you’re going to be ok.

you are nothing less than human for feeling this way.

and on the bad days, i will repeat those words to myself through the scream of my thoughts until i can’t hear anything else. it’s gonna be ok.

This poem wasn’t written for anyone specifically, I don’t think. (Or if it was, I don’t know who that person is.) Maybe, like, the world as a whole? (Ugh, that sounds really grandiose.) Anyway, I hope it meant something to you. And if it did, feel free to drop me a comment/email via my contact form/leave a like. 🙂

the night wears on

fingers on the glass. it’s raining, again. and i want to throw up for no apparent reason.

and maybe this is what the future means. i don’t know.

i remember being ten. i remember when all of this felt so far off in the distance.  a vague cartoon of the world i live in. and maybe that’s horrible. but i still miss it.

i remember reading the news. and how it’s almost always bad. how some days, it just feels like the world is coming to an end.

how static whispers through my head. and i close my eyes. and i let myself drown in it.

I live in Canada, and I wrote this poem the night of our election–October 21st. I was feeling really anxious about it, and I guess–this helped a bit.


trigger warning: blood used as a metaphor

in my dreams, there is blood on my hands. there is blood all around me. and i think the world is going to end, but don’t worry. it’s just another tuesday.

in my dreams, we run around your yard singing songs from the lion king, and screaming from the top of bookshelves, and i miss you already. 

in my dreams, i stare into the void, but… i don’t mind, honestly. 

in my dreams, we make tea, and watch over the garden wall together. because halloween. and it’s scary, but in the end everything always turns out okay. i wish it could be that way in reality.

in my dreams, we look at the stars from your trampoline and i explain the multiverse theory. and in that moment, i have never felt more lucky to be here. with you. exactly as i am. it’s a really good feeling.

i wake up at 7. and both of you are still sleeping.  every time i glance over you, all i can see is you leaving.

When this poem talks about leaving, it’s not talking about suicide, or being abandoned by choice by a friend. It’s talking about death, and death being inevitable at some point. Which is something that’s really been bugging me of late. That… at some point, everyone I love is gonna die. Yeah.