Even things that aren’t real can be real,
as long as they’re real to you.
So when you lose them, mourn the empty space
they once owned in your heart,
and mourn them deeply.
No one can tell you you cannot cry.
Tag: mental health
maybe this time will be different
You think you’ve finally done it,
done it right and at the right time,
maybe this time it will be different.
No.
It’s the same as any other.
The pain from your mind, heart and uterus
submerges you in blood
until you emerge, days later.
The pain from the uterus may retreat
but from the mind and heart, does not.
It lingers
and grows
and swells for weeks
until next month, when again,
you’ll think you’ve finally done it
and then you wait
in hopeful optimism
that this time will be different.
give them a voice to leave you
Adorn your fears, your insecurities,
your uncertainties,
with vocality.
Give them a voice, give them sounds
so they can leave you
and live here, out in the open,
under the observation of perspectives
other than your own.
You cannot do this all on your own.
We are here to help you.
emotions from a wild mind
Taking control over me
they have climbed into the driver’s seat
to steer off in a new direction
deviating so far from where I was
and wanted to stay.
Emotions
turned free from a wild mind
to cause mayhem and disrupt the planned route,
pushing me to the cliff’s edge
without my feet ever touching the ground.
Too far to turn back around,
I cannot jump back on to the ledge
once I descend in air,
so I fall
and drag you with me.
If only I could take a firmer hold of the wheel
and stay in the lane,
I would.
feel the sun
Coming out the other side
of the tunnel, long and dark,
where I can feel the sun again.
Not completely through,
but further along than yesterday
and the day before.
Keep chasing the sun
until I can plant both feet
and leave a shadow behind.
engulf
All happiness is gone,
sucked and drained out of me
by a baster
that feels small, but powerful.
I see it transfer all it took from me
and walk far away into the distance
to somewhere and someone else.
I am left here,
this hollow, void shell of a body
with nothing inside.
I see other people
who have fought off these basters
or never encountered them at all,
and don’t want to be near them
for when comparisons start
and I pretend to be full like them
the void magnifies,
and engulfs me.
It engulfs me.
A wave crashes
A wave crashes into the sand,
the sand unmarked and smooth
with no footprint left of human or animal,
smooth.
A wave crashes into the sand,
obliterating any remnant peace or calm
once there,
leaving rough, disturbed rocks
strewn about haphazardly
as the water rescinds back into the ocean.
A wave crashes into the sand
like a monster rears his head,
with destruction looming
even while he waits, patiently,
to attack.
my face tells the story
My face often gives it away;
how I’m really feeling
without a need for accompanying words.
Lately,
it tells of inner turmoil,
expectations too high for me to reach
and overflowing from my plate,
excessive concern and worry
and wishing that things were different,
that I was different.
Raised, reddened bumps
with under-eye shadows
and a new crease or two I do not recall before;
they really tell the story.
buried treasure
Work it out,
like a tangled, tight knot
in the back of your neck
that when your fingers land on it
after searching across skin for miles,
it’s like finding buried treasure.
Flex the fingers,
open wide the treasure box
then dig deep, down,
until you find the bottom.
I find buried treasure all over
and throughout my body,
but this large box before me
was difficult to open.
My flexed fingers digging in deep
will show me what’s inside,
for everything is treasure
if viewed with an open mind.
how the trees let go
Just look at the trees,
look at their willingness to
embrace change,
let go of what they no longer need
and try again later,
when the Earth warms again in spring.
How easily they can let go
is how I, too, need to let go.
Dawning Words 