cold (spoken word)


“Resilience” used according to license from patrickdearteaga.com

“Wind Sound” by Mark DiAngelo on soundbible.com (http://soundbible.com/1810-Wind.html)

Poem and whispering in background by me!

Read the text of this poem by clicking on the word here. Find me on PatreonYouTubeInstagramWattpadTumblr, and on Twitter.

january 6th, 2020

paperthin doubts. crumbling bones. and don’t you dare try to give me anything resembling a compliment, because if you do i think i might explode.

tired eyes and weak bones. and i’m sorry for crying on your staircase at two in the morning i just feel so alone.  so trapped inside myself. and you’re allowed to take up space in a room, you know.

skeletal fingers and shadows in the night, slamming your eyes closed. because i’ve seen monsters, all right? i’ve been there, and i’ve done that, and nothing you throw at me could possibly compare to the villains that live in my head.

panic attack in the locker bay, mid-block all alone. and fake a smile, okay? say you’re fine when they say hello.

questioning reality. because you’ve never been in anyone’s mind but your own. and this could all just be a stimulation, or a game, or some kind of sick dream. you know?

a heart. cold as stone.


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november 27th, 2019

i’m losing control. i know i’m losing my control. and you’re inside of me now. swimming in my throat.

so get away from me. get away from me. because i’m going to explode.

because i’ve been hurt enough times that i am not going to take the risk of letting go. and don’t touch me. get off me. i don’t deserve your love, and in the end you’re only going to reject me. i don’t think i was made for this kind of reality.

so close your eyes, okay? say that you hate me until i beg you not to go, and gouge scars into my chest, right through my clothes. slam the door closed…


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avoidance strategies

if i don’t think about it, i won’t have to do anything about it, at least for tonight. and that’s enough for me, okay? just give me one more day, where i don’t have to be afraid of who i’ll become when i turn and face the light. 

if i don’t think about it, i’ll have just a little longer to hold the world in my hands, and let it stir in my chest. let it make me so scared it’s hard to breathe and did i ever not feel this exhausted?

and you see, my mind is feeling like an electric fence today. and every step forward i take is some kind of calamity, and today, my mind is endless pounding gravity, dragging me down, down, down, crushing hopes and dreams into a solid ball of matter until there’s nothing left i remember. 

today, my mind plays guard. and i am its prisoner.


Check out the spoken word version here. Find me on PatreonYouTubeInstagramWattpadTumblr, and on Twitter.

photo album

and in the photo album, it all looks so perfect. doesn’t it? hallmark smiles, and christmas card messages, and maybe if we keep going at this we can just pretend there’s nothing off about it.

in the photo album, i do not have mental illness. i am just a smiling little girl, with freckles on her cheeks, and the wind in her hair, and in the end, i am nothing more than a pretty face. sitting there.

in the photo album, maybe i am just being stupid. and dramatic. but i still can’t help but feel the fault lines wracking through me, except… maybe this isn’t really me. maybe this brain was never mine, and maybe i am out of place inside this body.

maybe i made it all up. maybe i don’t remember it correctly, because if i was so miserable how can i look so happy?


I went through all my old childhood pictures and videos and stuff on my laptop a couple days ago, and kind of broke down a little afterward. Not in a loud way. It just triggered this chain of denial inside me–like, I’m just lying, I don’t really have anxiety. I guess this was what I wrote to at least attempt to deal with those feelings.