hold you

i wish i could hold you. wish i could turn the pain into beauty, and lay flowers on your shoulders and slowly wind the clock forward to a time when cars fly, and the sky dances, and we’re no longer broken. and i know things wouldn’t be perfect, but i’m tired of stitching myself together, scar by scar. tired of looking at myself in the mirror and falling apart on the bathroom floor.

i wish i could suffer the blows with you, and wipe away your forestfire tears, for as long as you need me too.

i wish i could write you a happy ending, where you don’t have to deal with any of this. because i hope you know every single day how beautifully imperfect you are. how you are so much more than any wound or scar. 

i wish you knew how much i care about you. because maybe i don’t know your name, or maybe i do. but i do know that you’re human, and you’re worth it, okay? you’re worth the space you take up. you’re worth all your flaws, and bad days. and we need you here. so please.

stay.


Listen to the spoken word version here.

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. 🙂

when i was younger

trigger warning: suicidal thoughts, mention of blood, self-harm, and just some generally heavy topics. please be safe while reading, and if you need to talk to anybody, find a crisis line in our area here.

when i was younger, i used to smear blood on book pages. so whenever i read through my old copy of harry potter and the dealthy hallows, there’s still reddish stains to remind me of it. remind me what a mess i am. remind me that i don’t know why this happened, or who did this, and maybe it’s just genetics, but if it’s just genetics, i still don’t understand what did i do to deserve this? when i was younger, i used to think a lot about what other people thought. and sometimes, i would spend hours just imagining how much they hated me. how much of a burden i was. pushing myself down further and further, wondering how long it would take to turn to dust. and other things i still do, like aimless google searches, shouting out into oblivion. and crying after school. and hurting myself between answering emails and text messages. when i was younger, i used to slam my head against the wall with tears streaming down my cheeks just begging the world to make it over. when i was younger, there was a knot of feelings in my chest, and i didn’t know what to do with it. so i learned to crash and burn, and spark, and hiss, and go off, and maybe growing up turned me into some kind of bomb. and maybe i’m tired of constantly drifting through the danger zone. because i still do it. and then… i got older. and then i fell apart in so many different ways and clicked a couple puzzle pieces together. and listened to songs that made me sob my eyes out on the floor because all the emotions come on like a tsunami, and i’m not really sure what’s happening to me. and…  then i got older. and i tried to remember what hope felt like, and i’m still not entirely sure. and some days, it’s hard to believe i am not seven years old anymore. but i am not seven years old anymore. i am older. and braver. and smarter. and stronger. strong enough to admit that i’m fucked up. strong enough to try and deal with it. strong enough, in the way you become after years of trying to pick yourself up off the ground and finally sort of managing it. so much stronger. and maybe i can write myself a place where i’m ok. and maybe, maybe, someday i’ll get there.


keywords: poetry blogs, poetry blog sites, poetry blog wordpress, poetry blog websites, poetry on a blog, anonymous poetry blog, poetry blogs best, contemporary poetry blog, deep poetry blog, poetry blogs free, poetry blog sites free, poetry blog on wordpress, original poetry blog, poetry writing blog, poetry writers blog, poetry creative writing blog, mental health and poetry, poetry on mental health, writing poetry mental health, young female poets, young living poets, young modern poets, upcoming young poets, young writers high school, young writers in the world, young writers online, young writers of canada, young writers of canada 2019, young writers poetry, young writers quotes, young writers 2019

a recurring issue of mine

thoughts shift in and out focus / and i can’t quite make my mind understand this and i’m so tired / but it’s 1a.m. and i miss you for no apparent reason / and i’m getting sick again / but what does it matter because in general i think i’m just a fucking sick person / and my eyes slam closed / and closed / and then open / and everything is broken / and the words shift out / and out / and then into focus / and i keep writing / and i keep going / because i have to do this / i have to do this now / i have to get this over with / and i have to keep spinning like a broken record / and keep going / keep going keep going / and nothing makes sense / but everything makes sense / and / nothing is beautiful / but everything is beautiful / and maybe that’s the issue / and maybe that’s why / i just want to stop these thoughts / and stop these feelings / so i can breathe / or something / and get it off me / get it off me / get it off me / make it stop / flick every single light in this room / off / off / off me / and make my mind get / off / off / off me / and make me not feel like an alien in my own body / off / off / off  me / and where / is / my / gravity?


sleep is tough for me. i’m just gonna shove this here in case someone reading this needs it–if you need to talk to anybody, no matter what you’re going there, find a crisis line in your area here.


keywords: poetry blogs, poetry blog sites, poetry blog wordpress, poetry blog websites, poetry on a blog, anonymous poetry blog, poetry blogs best, contemporary poetry blog, deep poetry blog, poetry blogs free, poetry blog sites free, poetry blog on wordpress, original poetry blog, poetry writing blog, poetry writers blog, poetry creative writing blog, mental health and poetry, poetry on mental health, writing poetry mental health, young female poets, young living poets, young modern poets, upcoming young poets, young writers high school, young writers in the world, young writers online, young writers of canada, young writers of canada 2019, young writers poetry, young writers quotes, young writers 2019

sanity

trigger warning: depersonalization, self-hatred, numbness

songs i don’t even like flicker through me. disjointed thoughts. it all collapses way, way too quickly. and i’m so, so tired. but i did good, right? maybe? and can you just say that you’re proud of me so i can pretend to be happy, and is that going to be enough for me? i’m just not sure right now. what i’m supposed to do to make me happy. and i’m not sure, so mostly i just try to let my head to fall to the ground and the thought kind of overrun me. and i’m not sure who i’m supposed to be but i failed at being myself or it feels like it today and i’m really sleepy. the thoughts are ants, and they run over me. i don’t know how to be honest about my feelings without laughing and that scares me. that scares me. that the crows call, and it’s only a moment and i’ll grow back from it but right now i’m kinda drifting away from myself and i hate the expression on your face. and i hate how my feelings are always so complicated. and sometimes, i’m fine. but right now the fog is thick. and i can’t stand the lines of this world if they aren’t aesthetic. and sometimes i wish everyone who was like me could just stop existing so i could be the best at everything and there would be no competing and no feeling like i’m not good enough to consider this as a job but no one deserves to die for my insecurity. when i look at the old pictures of me, it’s hard to even comprehend how much time has passed but it has passed and it is passing and that’s kind of unfathomable to me and who will i become and what if i’m not what i want to be? what if it’s not all right to be tired and a little sleepy? what if i’m not the next child prodigy? i’m scared of the sunrise in my bedroom and the creaks just behind me. i’m scared of the echo of your laughter as it becomes a coat of leather enveloping me. and i’m so scared of being abandoned. and lonely.


keywords: alone, poetry about loneliness, empty, i feel so empty, i feel empty, i feel like nothing, i feel so worthless, i feel hopeless, mental health stories, mental health, mental illness battle, poetry blogs, mental health blogs, best poetry blogs, goldfish and the microphone, goldfish & the microphone, g&tm, G&TM, popular poetry blogs, long poetry, free write poetry, long poem, free write poem, my poetry, amazing poetry, beautiful poetry, emerging writers, emerging poet, talented poets, most talented poets, best poets, poetry about self-harm, poetry about compulsions, poetry about feeling hopeless, i feel hopeless, how do i overcome my compulsions, poetry about emotional ghosts, poetry about feeling scared, poetry about feeling alone, poetry about anxiety and depression, poetry about depersonalization, poetry about emptiness, i feel so empty, i feel like nothing matters, i feel like i’m drifting out of my body, i’m having suicidal thoughts, i don’t care about myself, help