howl

lighting in my belly / and the sky starts to bend / as i raise my hands / and i just want to make it all stop for a second / and maybe i am not human / and maybe i am just playing pretend / and i will slowly walk towards the edge / and there is no moon / and there is no sun / and there is only darkness / and my head / and the scars i’m tired of wearing / and a number i am fucking fed up of bearing / and i just want to be alone for a second / and i just want to forget / forget / forget / but i can’t forget / forget / forget / and i just want the silence to ring through my ears / and for peace to exist / because i’m tired of being at war with this / this constant buzzing anxiety / and it’s not cute / it’s not trendy / it’s stealing my last ounces of control away from me / and i’ll call out / because i want to get out / i want to get out / i want to get out of this cage / this place / and i’m tired of being sick / i am so tired of being sick / and i’ll scream out / because i can’t handle being alone / and i’ll dig my nails into my arms / trying to get it out / trying to twist it out / trying to stop hurting / this loud / but it won’t really help / and there will be no escape / and i will bang at my skull / trying to get out / because i don’t want to be sick / because i am tired of being sick / and i will grab onto you like a lifeboat / and i don’t know / and on days like this / all i want is to run toward the storm / and let go


pretty sure one of the first poems i ever posted here was called “howl”? so consider this a vaguely sentimental comparison poem and please no one find my old writing and read it! also, i know this is really heavy, so… just in case, 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

september 15th, 2019

trigger warning: self-harm

and i’m sure you don’t want to talk to me. and i’m sure you don’t want to see me. and i’m sure you fucking hate being anywhere near me. and the words flow out of me way too quickly. and it all just feels… so… heavy. and so don’t breathe. and so lock yourself in the dark, and the news hits like a bomb, and i am the city. i am always the city. i am always the arm reaching out from the abyss, trying my best to fight the urge to just pull you into this emptiness, because god does it get lonely. and the more you say the faster the state of my mental health degrades, and the more i’ll pretend to be falling apart and redefine it as okay. and i’m sure i deserve this, even though i don’t deserve this. and scissors will hit the skin, and the sharp numbness will finally set in. and i’ll hide my face. and i’ll pretend i don’t exist. because it’s just poetry. it’s not that good. no one really knows about me. and what is this ever going to lead to, in the end? really.


it’s been a really bad month in terms of anxiety. sometimes i can’t even breathe walking down a hallway.  i don’t recognize this person i’m turning into.


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 night with no stars

because it’s foggy, now. and every time i go out, it’s freezing cold, and i don’t remember when the sky fell. and i don’t get it. where my mental illness starts, and where i end. and where my mental illness ends me, and where i end it. and if i can ever really end it. and if i can ever really think like a normal person, or something like that. and i am a puppet. and i can’t breathe. and it’s foggy, and you’ve never felt further away from me. and so i try to run away but the dark just sort of keeps following me, and if i’m being honest some days i don’t want to bother fighting it. because i can’t even see the sky above me. can’t fucking stop taking myself so seriously. and making mountains out of molehills, and somethings out of nothings. because that’s pretty much what it means to have anxiety. and so i’ll call myself anxiety so i can look into the mirror and not have to see myself anymore. and you’ll find me lying there on the floor. begging for help as my ribcage starts to crumple and my soul catches fire. even though i have all the help i ever could have asked for. even though i know no one can save me from myself. but i can’t feel my chest. and my hands have gone numb. and it’s so cold out. and i don’t know how to do that. and i don’t know who the old me was. and i don’t know if she could have handled this or not. but i can’t see myself in her anymore.


a sort-of sequel poem to “a night spent looking at the stars.” (which you can read by clicking here.) because… i don’t know. i use that line a lot in this poem, because it reslly represents where i’m at right now. i thought i was doing better. i really thought i was doing better. i thought i was going to be all right, for a while. i don’t know what it is exactly, but i don’t feel that way anymore. just in case you need it, my mental health resources post is 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

september 20th, 2019

trigger warning: self-harm, suicidal thoughts. please be safe while reading, and if you need to talk to anyone, my mental health resources post is here.

scissors. and the blade at my finger. and the bedroom light, and the silence, and the text messages gradually trickling through. but it’s all right, because these wounds that still won’t heal? i deserve it. i deserve to be in pieces on the floor. i deserve the water rising in my lungs, and the suicidal thoughts. and don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. because i’m too tired to be a mess again. and why am i so tired… and why can’t i stop running through the motions of this life, as every day goes by like sand in the wind and it’s coming too quick, and i take in a breath but there’s no time to let it out because there’s scissors, and the bedroom light, and my stomach flipping itself inside out and whispering good night. good night. good night. because it’s probably not healthy to stay up writing until way past midnight. and if only writing out the entire story of my life were as simple as sketching out an outline. because it all seemed so much simpler in the outline… and why is my mind just a pile of broken, flickering neon lights? and why am i a signpost on the side of a highway in the middle of nowhere, and i need to know where to go but the letters are blurred, and the power is out, and the shadows flicker across every decision i’ve ever made because it’s never too late to cast the past in doubt. and i can’t process any of this. so instead i’m sitting here. past midnight. slamming at a keyboard. like if i write hard enough, it’ll all drip out. out. out. and i’ll be able to meet someone’s eyes without having a breakdown, which is more than i can say right now. but if that actually works, why isn’t this mess in my head cleaned up by now?


of late existing in general has been really hard for me. i’m hanging in there, and i’m safe, but… it’s hard. if you follow my writing, that’s probably pretty easy to figure out. everything is so confusing right now. this spiral of not-knowing that feels sometimes like it’s just going to tighten, tighter and tighter. swallow me up completely. the end. that’s irrational, it might paralyze me, but confusion can’t kill me. this poem was written about a specific incident, on september 20th, 2019, when i just felt… like a horrible person. writing this was the only way i knew how to really deal with it.


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

may 10th, 2019

i am falling, i am falling, i am falling. and i know that i have the power to stop myself. i know that this is like a butterfly fearing that every time it goes to sleep, it’ll turn back into a caterpillar. and i’m not eleven anymore.  it’s just… it’s hard not to be scared, when every time you look back on your past, all you see is a prison. and when you can’t help but wonder… if maybe you were only ever made to be a broken record. or a history that can’t stop repeating itself. or a body hurled off the edge of a cliff. or just something else. i am falling. i am falling. i am falling. and it turns out that parachutes and false senses of security aren’t actually things that happen in reality. and my brain won’t stop screaming at me. and i am falling, and it’s scary, and it’s confusing and… it’s funny. how you can have studied for this moment a thousand times over, and still not know how to do anything. i. am. falling.


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