promise

Add a heading(1)promise myself i’ll practice. as in, promise myself i’ll stitch my broken heartstrings back together and make them into something like a tapestry. something coherent. something that will make others marvel at its beauty.  promise myself i’ll do this. promise i’ll get to it tomorrow. because i need to get to it tomorrow. because i need to stop being afraid by tomorrow, because by tomorrow, everything will have changed but god, did you think anyone would care about what it’s like inside your echoing bombshell of a brain? because there are people who have it worse than i do, and maybe i am just another piece of shrapnel cast away from the scene of the crime. promise myself i’ll fight. promise myself tomorrow i’ll wake up and i will climb up from the abyss and i will pretend to be all right. but i will not be all right. i will not know what i mean anymore when i write poetry because i know that it’s something but i’m not sure what it is. and i guess i’m still a little scared of letting this feeling out when i’m not sure what this monster even is, but it’s mine, and doesn’t that mean it’s my responsibility to make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone other than myself this time? and i’m not sure what’s true and what’s just my head. but i’m afraid to look at myself in the mirror because i can’t stand the fact that i still can’t fix my head. that i’m still the kind of client my therapist has to convince their life is worth it. that i’m the kid, curled up in the back of the class, getting perfect grades. faking a smile. pretending they understand the better half of this. pretending they’re all right. pretending they’re all right because if i tell you, i’ll have to tell myself too. and i’m standing at the edge and i know someday, i’m going to do this. someday, i’m going to become everything i thought i never could be and i’m going to make something from the ashes. i’m just scared it won’t be beautiful.


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when i laughed

trigger warning: numbness, suicidal thoughts

i mean i’m scared of the depths of these feelings i mean / you make me so happy / and i am so scared you are not telling the truth / and i am so scared you’ll go / and more than that / i’m scared that i’ll fall / i’m scared i’ll let you fall because / i’m sleepless tonight and where the hell did all the colours and potential and hope of this day go and / for some reason i can only write when i’m about to fall asleep / like emotions are too scary to be felt until my brain is at the edge of being numbed out and maybe / i can understand / why people try alcohol as a way of dulling their emotions / because if there’s nothing else we can do to make ourselves feel like nothing / i mean maybe that’s no so unreasonable / i mean oh my god where are these thoughts coming from / i mean i’m scared / i mean you can tell i’m having a bad day when i spend my free time changing my tumblr theme for no apparent reason / rather than you know writing and trying my best to work through these feelings / my heart is empty and i kind of miss when the empty was all i knew / because when the empty was all i knew / there was nothing i could do about it / because when the empty was all i knew / i still had the time to take care of myself / and i know that’s stupid it’s just / when i laughed / i meant my feelings are a black hole i dance around and every word both makes it better and brings me closer / i mean i’ve gotten to the point with my writing where in order to be all right i kind of need my words to be loved by someone else / and i just want to escape / and i can’t stop thinking about the fight / the fight / the fight / and i’ve gotten to the point / with my writing / where i can’t do this without a timer / a timer / practically cradling reminding me that every day i wake up in the hospital of my body / and all the lights are blinking sirens of my heart / and my heart is telling you to let go now and / you don’t let go now / and i don’t know how to tell you how much you mean to me / and i don’t know what you would think if i told you how much you mean to me / and honestly / when i smash the keyboard / what i really mean is that / there’s a traffic jam of words / and all of them are kind of trying / to run out / and they have hurt me before / and they have made mistakes before / and i don’t really trust them / but / i need to use them / anyway / and / that scares me / and i’m naked / emotionally / trapped inside / this mind / and how can that not make someone want to die / i don’t understand please don’t see me falling apart / please don’t tell me this is the end


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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.


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the cold

trigger warning: numbness, anxiety, low self-esteem, feeling like your life/emotions do not matter.

note: where there are asterisks, it’s me censoring my name, so i can still kinda use my name in poems and still maintain my anonymous blogger mystique. 😉


these days / i am so numb / that even speaking / feels like something’s wrong / feels like something i shouldn’t be doing my lips / are post-it notes pressed together / i can pry them open if i want to / but i don’t / speak in simple answers / yes or no / walk quiet footsteps / say yes more than no / wait to explode / i am / so cold that the rain no longer touches me / these days i am so numb and / i hate this person and / this person is / who you want me to become / these days / i am so numb that my brain is filled with the thrumming static you get when there’s no radio signal / and you’re trapped in the middle of nowhere and / all you want to know about is the fucking weather forecast so you’ll be able to mark it on a calendar / when you’ll stop feeling like this because / it is snowing now / the kind of snow you don’t realize can give you frostbite / because at first / it’s so soft / like time has stopped right in front of you / my whole body is an ice sculpture i am frozen mid sentence just begging for tomorrow to get there because tomorrow i can pretend that everything will be different / tomorrow / it won’t feel like i have sticks and stones and broken bones where my heart used to be / mouth moving without thinking / a part of me holding protest rallies explaining / all the logical reasons why we should not stop breathing / snap out of it ***** / your feelings do matter / except i am not doing anything / i am freezing and when i was little / i liked “let it go” / before i knew that was cliché / as in the song from the movie / liked that / it covered all my feelings / scared / sad / numb / angry / trapped / lonely / i don’t think anyone else felt that way / felt blizzards inside themselves / gentle enough to stop long enough to make you stay but / angry enough to freeze you to death after / ***** snap out of it we have things to be doing / i am an iceberg and i am melting / i am an iceberg and you don’t know half of me / i don’t know half of me / where is my heart / where is the part of me /  that felt things


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the / graffiti

trigger warning: suicidal thoughts, detachment, disgust, mention of needles

i’m not sure what to call this.

when you think about it  your stomach is gonna feel like a tin can. like where-the-hell-did-my-heart-go-again. like metal. like slam against the wall after you’ve been running down a hill for a decade thinking there was no end in sight metal. i can’t believe you when you say i love you. metal. you’re not gonna be able to write so your fingers will feel like paper machê streamers dangling from your hands. like wind chimes, tinkling in the breeze, beautiful but useless dead skeletons we bury in our chests because they remind us too much of the things that used to be.  your brain is going to freeze. your brain is gonna empty out like a teapot that didn’t realize what it means to have nothing left until this moment this moment it’s been chasing after its whole lifetime. your brain is gonna feel like a cardboard box flattened on the side of the curb with the drawings still on it. the drawings we did. you’re gonna be feeling your heart thump in your chest a little louder than before. just a little. somehow reminds you of all the times you let every shadow under your eyes every bone in your body stick out on end. you let in all the thoughts in like wolves that had been at the door telling you have to dinner for a long time. you let them inject lies into you needle after needle until you feel like you’ve been bathing in bleach in order to get all the colour out of you and you hate your mind for being this way for ripping down walls like they can just be rebuilt in a minute they can be rebuilt but it’s not that easy. all the eerie details are gonna file into your head like suspects for a crime except i don’t remember what the crime was so i’m standing here realizing. i’m a failure. by eerie details i mean things like how do you know you’re real? how do i know other people see the same colours i do? why should i care i don’t have to? most of the world will feel like it’s melting in your hands. and everything flickers, on. off. on. off. black. white. black. white. the letters are really just strange squiggles. and the pictures of the stars on your bedroom walls are just paintings of little white pixels it’s meaningless. you’re going to realize that all the highways we trample over every single day are just a disguise for pain and you either become the side that says stop and the side that says grow up or the side that runs away. you’re going to realize that time is a current, sweeping you away scouring all the paint off your skin that you wore just because you wanted to feel different and now whatever’s left—whatever this is—it’s quiet, for a moment. and it’s alive but it’s alive in a way that makes all the bones in your body ache. it’s alive in the way a haunted house is, rustling with the ghosts that tell you everything you don’t want to hear about yourself and then say the truth hurts so therefore this is the truth. so therefore it’s not anything. so therefore you should walk on the pieces of broken glass that don’t have to hurt and keep going. your heart is going to scream no and you’ll say yes anyhow because you are a machine today and in this second all you know is how to go and your heart feels like a cauldron where they make poison starting to bubble over this is nothing this is where the numbness seeps in. the kind of numbness where the layers of your personality attack each other until i don’t completely recognize who i am in the mirror. you’re going to want to cast all of this away. you’re going to want to scratch at the scars scattered across you like they can just be ripped away like they’re just dollar store stickers you plastered yourself with because you’re lovable this way. living feels disgusting when it touches you. resting feels disgusting when it touches you. your skin feels disgusting when it touches you. love feels disgusting when it touched you.  everything feels disgusting when it touches you. i want to run away. and why does life even get the right to touch you anymore when it’s hurt you a thousand times in a row a thousand little blows a monster laughing as it sets me on fire only to blow me out like a birthday candle and kiss me goodnight flicking off the light why does life get to get away with murder? why does my life matter? why do my feelings matter?  why can’t i just not care anymore? you’re going to stare at the ceiling your face slack like a rope about to let them fall. this is when i tell you to carry on. even though i feel like a feather slipping out of my own palm. you’re going to spend an hour staring at the dirt in your front yard kicking up the dust until you can’t breathe anymore. you’re going to wobble on shaky legs around the living room this hard fog rising up in your throat and nothing they’ve said can reach you. i am driving myself off this deep end i think it’s because i don’t know what else to do. the thing about nightmares most people forget is that sometimes, they do come true, and when they do, that’s when i hate you. my body feels like a candy wrapper i can just toss away. you won’t have a bathing suit on when you jump. when you fall into the cold your cotton clothes dragging behind you. and you’re not gonna be sure, but you think maybe if you dive down far enough down into the coral and the black hole, you’ll find your heart. your stomach. your lungs. your soul.


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