Oh magnanimous ruler of poetic plights
Giveth me thine strength to write
With such diction that I'll have two words to each line.
Oh how verbose is my mind
on the page
When I try with all might
To delay my short sight
But you! My magnificent master
No man dare find rhyme faster than thee
All I see
Is the artful complexity
That blesses the page
And I rage!
One word
One line
All 26 characters utilized
I need not surmise
That this is the stage
Of your grandest play
And my demise
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
To make a long story short
When I woke up next to you
Your face just a few inches from mine
I realized I had never felt anything like this in my life
Something so peaceful
Something so...whole
Something that made me stop looking for home
Because I'd found it
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 8:57 PM UTC
Time passes me by and I realize I'm so much bigger and yet so much smaller than I hoped to be.
I don't watch good films. I don't read enough or write enough. I don't think enough.
I don't play guitar; a couple chords is all I know, I'm afraid that's as far as I'll ever go.
I don't sit and write songs on paper, I type them out and forget about them ten minutes later.
I don't have people I can call friends; at least not anymore.
I've distanced myself from everything and everyone I ever loved.
I don't speak spanish, french or romanian. I've never seen the ocean or been kissed on the lips.
I only know a couple words in italian.
I don't go to parties. I don't have a job or a good credit score.
I don't have pretty handwriting. My mom doesn't like me; she might love me sometimes, but she doesn't like me.
My father doesn't know me,
I'm afraid by now he forgot how to pronounce my name.
I spin in circles and dream of a life of happiness, love and fame.
I dream of picking my own wall paint and moving my furniture around the place.
I dream of saying I own this house and everything inside,
myself included.
I can close my eyes and enjoy some expensive wine,
I earned it.
I dream of a lover who understands that I might be happy but no amount of love could ever ease the pain or heal the hole in my brain.
I let the good thoughts escape,
the bad ones remain.
I dream of someday being able to look at my left hand and not see the purple-hued bruise that my mother left behind when she pushed to the floor that one time; it's not the first time she hits me or steals me from my dignity,
I should be used to it.
I close my eyes and I allow myself to feel the pain.
My body is weak.
I feel her dragging me to the bathroom and yelling at me.
The pain is everywhere,
I'm too dizzy to think.
The neighbors listen to her screams, my cries
But they pretend it's alright.
So the next morning when my math teacher asks me why I missed class
I look down, then he looks down and asks me why my hand is lilac
I tell him I fell, it was late at night and I didn't have my glasses on,
It's alright,
I fell.
I take the test I missed. I hold back tears while reading words that look like greek to me
I fail.
I could have died that night.
I could have died the next day.
I spent the next three years thinking about committing suicide.
She tells me she's sorry, it won't happen again. That was the last time she ever laid her hands on me; out of pity or fear that she might end up committing an inescapable felony.
She tells me she loves me,
I tell myself that love doesn't feel like daggers buried deep into your left hand.
Those broken bones never mend.
I'm almost twenty now,
I was fifteen then.
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 9:39 PM UTC
She is the center, connected
She loves beyond love
Yet I'm perplexed
By this dove
Whose wings, divine
Flutter in the fading light
She dives
Though she is so precise
In her flight
That her gentle body, white
Paints the night sky
Now blind
No stars
Not in front
Not behind
Just her
Always there to shine
Brighter and longer
Than any heavenly body I might find
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 9:10 PM UTC
Before the illness descended on my brain
I never felt particularly insane
Eating disorders are not all about wanting to be thin
The pain is much deeper and emerges from within
Your self concept is shattered.
I don't think others understand
What it takes to recover, to escape quicksand.
Eating disorder thoughts are rotten and cruel
They convince you that you are a complete fool
They spit negativity into your head
You believe your thoughts, tears are shed.
Your appearance in the mirror you continue to hate
Vile thoughts continue to berate
Try living with that constant dread
Like walking around with a boulder on your head
At some points wishing you'd be better off
...
Recovery.
Congrats! You've gained weight!
Your physical health has returned, look at that heart rate.
But I gained more than I wanted to gain.
My mind is spinning, the thoughts are insane.
My mind is battling a war each day.
As I try to go to school, be a human, be okay.
The strength and will to do that is intense.
To live with your mind continually on a fence.
To have restriction sit in the back of your mind.
As you try to keep up with school and not get behind.
It is not a choice.
The voice.
Is not a choice.
But recovery is.
To try to live how I want to live.
If you come across someone battling this fight
Commend them on their courage and might.
Be their support.
Even though you may not understand.
Lend a listening ear or a helping hand.
Be the difference in their day.
Help stop their thought spiral, remind them they're okay
Anything you say
Makes a difference.
Acceptance
Love
Care
Makes a difference
Love and care will fuel their fight
To know their thoughts are not right.
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
Is this depression?
I'll never know.
This isn't the way they portray it,
In films and plays and books.
No background cause for this mental decline,
No atmospheric music for the hook.
This is depression,
It's real and it's raw.
So what the **** are you romanticising it for?
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
She looks at life with longing eyes
It holds her, flies
For like a dove
Her speech preaches peace
And love
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 11:31 AM UTC
I feel nothing.
Not your kind words,
that drill
through my skull
until dull
and still
Not the wind
I've seen
dancing through the trees
singing sweet melodies
to the lilies below
Not the sun
or its warmth
my blinds are closed
just like my mind
it's cold.
Not even you
who tries to soothe
can fix me,
"The Uncouth"
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
please
get out of my head.
get
out
of
my
head!
it's so painful to have you here
yet i'm always fighting for you to stay
so do me a favor
just get out
i know you don't care
you don't act like it
you ignore me
you neglect me
you reject me
and yet you said you loved me?
how could you?
to be honest..
how could i?
to fall for your lies...
i'm such a **** fool
why do i love you? it makes no sense
i have to block you for some peace, until i come crawling back in hopes of gaining your attention
it hurts so much
all of this,
caring about you.
i'm crying so much
i took my glasses off
i can barely see the screen on which i'm typing
almost like i can barely see my feelings as something important to you
sigh
i have so much to do
homework
studying
meditation
i even have a potential relationship
and yet i can't do any of it
none of it keeps my focus
why?
because of you!
why can't you listen to my plead?
i don't know
Please,
Just!
Get!
Out!
Of!
My!
Head!
before i blow you out with a bullet.
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 2:16 PM UTC
I am a perpetually uncertain individual.
Or the opposite.
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 4:42 PM UTC