september 1st, 2019

and i’m walking home, just a little after sunset. and it’s the kind of day where i can’t help but think that maybe someday, i’ll be free of this. or maybe someday, i’ll at least know how to manage it. maybe someday i won’t have dreams, i’ll have goals, and goals will be real. and my thoughts will be known. and maybe someday i won’t feel like such an idiot for having hope. maybe i can do something in the world. and maybe someday, all of this will be distant. and my lungs will be clear. and… maybe someday, i’ll be able to really say that i’m happy. and even if every day in my life is only ever spent just working towards being all right like that, it will have been worth it. all this pain, and suffering, and stepping of shards of glass and nights spent crying alone. because it’s the kind of day where you try to breathe, but it’s so hard not to feel alone. the kind of day where you just want to run and hide from everything you’ve ever known. and every time you look ahead, the trail feels just a little longer. and the shadows just a little taller. and you can’t help but feel alone. and you can’t breathe, as the sky unfolds above you. but somehow, you find it in you to let go.


this took so ridiculously long to write and edit and stuff. im so glad it’s finished now.


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september 30th, 2019

i took you to town on our lunch hour. just the two of us. in the crisp autumn air, touring vintage shops and bookstores like typical high school students. with typical jansport backpacks. laughing, and looking at books and geeking out about things i bet no one else would even notice. and maybe this is what meeting your soulmate looks like. like finally finding someone who speaks your language. someone who lights up every room they’re in. because i took you to town, and showed you around, and… i was happy. for a moment. i was okay. i was the eye between the storms, and i was okay. and i know it’s such a small thing. but it meant the world to me. that day. i hope you know that. i hope you know how many of my favourite memories were made with you. and i hope you know that the falling leaves did not feel like death omens as long as i stayed there. beside you. and i hope you know how much i love you. because i do. i love you. like a sister i never got to have. like the first real friend i’ve ever had. like one of the best people i know. i love you. 


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i remember

i remember you. i remember bookshops and tea at midnight, and that the first time i used a debit card it was with you. i remember you. because maybe if i just focus hard enough on other people’s issues, i won’t have to remember that i have them too. i remember you. because maybe if i can hold you close enough in my mind, you won’t leave me. like they always said you’d leave me. because i’m nothing without the words i’ve spent half my life having drilled into me. and i remember you. who gave me love where i expected hate. who made me smile, and laugh. and feel safe. and i remember you, because i never tell you, how terrified i am of losing you. or hurting you. or being abandoned, like they always said i’d be by you. and i just never thought someone could know about the monsters in my chest and still want to be there. by my side. as my friend. because i remember the nights, when i look in the mirror, and it doesn’t even feel like i’m in there. and so i will remember the second when i realized that you have monsters too. and maybe i don’t have to be afraid anymore. maybe the past can be the past. maybe the past doesn’t have to be the future. and maybe we don’t have to be the losers, or the outcasts, or the victims anymore. and maybe we’re more than what anyone else ever bargained for. and maybe someday, we will write stories on blank pages, and we won’t need to make jigsaw puzzles out of our broken pieces. and the past will be the past. and the future will be the future.


i feel like this has a really terrible title, or at least a mildly uncreative one, but i’m just going to quietly ignore that until i can think of a better one.


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okay

trigger warning: suicidal thoughts (in the context of recovery)

i just want to write something to do justice to the small things. like watching avatar: the last airbender with your friends. and screaming when the episode ends. or like… writing in bed, curled up with your computer, listening to the soundtracks of musicals you’ve never actually seen before. and the moments where amid the storm, for the first time in a long time, you actually kind of feel warm. and when your organs are not made of lead, and when you do not want to die, and you are free to be whatever you like. and when you mind isn’t the end. and when, for one, precious moment… you’re not the property of your head.


everything is still really rough. at least, right now, as i edit this poem. it’s been a really rough night. it’s been a really rough couple of nights. i’m just so tired of being sick–i don’t want to be sick anymore. i just want to be all right. is that too much to ask? i just want to be all right. if you need any help, my mental health resources masterpost is here. i hope you’re all doing okay.


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