and i am so confused

is it possible for a brain to cannibalize itself / blood sweat tears i gave you everything i had left / so here i am / in an empty hallway / waving softly, and watching as you go / and do you ever just want to give up / i don’t know / want to watch as you crash / and burn / and crash / and burn / and your bones start to melt / and your hair turns gold / and i guess nothing matters anymore / so i will give you / my heart and my soul and i will put it on a silver platter just for you / and i will watch as you let go / and i hate you more than anything so / please just leave here / in the cold / because it’s a little lonely / but i don’t want you to love me / and i think right now… i just need to be alone 

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cold (spoken word)

“Resilience” used according to license from

“Wind Sound” by Mark DiAngelo on (

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.

defining myself based on my success

harsh metal edges and the tired, empty thoughts, echoing around my head.

so say you’re proud of me. say this time, i’ve really done it and i’ll smile shyly at the ground like a goofy little kid and bask in the thought for just a couple minutes that after all this time i did it. i did it. 

despite all the odds stacked up against me. despite all the reasons to not.  i did it. i stood up, and i fought.

so say you love me. and i’ll try to let the words wash over me. let them wrap around my shoulders like medicine. and i’ll try to let it sink in but honestly, it’s hard to believe… any of this.

because how can this be real? how can this make sense? 

don’t you know i’m worthless?

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building castles, only to tear them down and start all over again. because it’s never perfect as it is in my head.

building kingdoms. sculpting blood, sweat, and tears, into the most beautiful portrait.  but no matter how hard i try, there’s always going to be something wrong with it.

and i’m so scared of messing up, that honestly to this day when faced with the possibility trying i would still rather stay in my room, hiding. because maybe you miss 100% of the goals you don’t shoot, but the rage of self-hatred i will give myself for failing is far worse of the vague guilt of sitting there and doing nothing.

and you’ll tell me you’re so proud of me, with tears in your eyes. and you’ll wrap your arms around me. and i won’t feel anything, except maybe in the most hidden corners of my mind.

but i’ll smile. and i’ll get up on stage, and wave at the crowd, ignoring the voices in my head even though they’re so fucking loud. and i’ll give this my everything. i’ll keep going through the storm… until i can’t do this anymore.

Check out the spoken word version here.

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just a little unsteady

shaking hands. paranoid thoughts. and i think there’s something wrong. because i can’t breathe. can’t think clearly. spent the entire morning just trying to get over my anxiety. 

pounding heart, and i think i’m alone in the world, and someone please acknowledge me.

and of course you’ll try to talk me out of it. you’ll grab onto my hand, and tell me you love me. tell me you love me. tell me you love me…

but it never sinks in. not properly. i can’t feel the floor or my mind or the vague sensation of gravity, could someone please tell me what’s happening to me.

and if there’s a pill i could take. a magic spell i could say. or, i don’t know, something to squirm through the plot holes of my mind and make it all go away that would be great thanks. good bye. ok.

i am ok. i am ok. i am ok. animated motions, watching myself from far far away. and you know, this is the thing about anxiety: there are days when it’s honestly ok. days when my mind is deep, dark lake and yeah it’s a little scary, and cold, and generally shitty but… i don’t know, maybe in the right light maybe we could still call it pretty. 

and then there are days like this. when my mind is a tsunami. when the dark thoughts bear down upon me, and there’s nothing i can do. nothing i can say. and at this point, it’s out of my control. ok?

I keep having really bad panic attacks at school–so I guess this was my best attempt at writing it out. I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure this poem was penned at a city bus stop while I was waiting for the bus to come take me home from school, but not entirely sure about that. Anyway, if you’re going through the same thing as I am right now–if you’re in the same, dark, shitty place where everything feels like it’s encompassed by a mental illness, I just want to say that you’re valid. And it’s hard. It’s so hard. But you are never the only one who feels like this. And I know we’ll get through it. ❤

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