There lives a dragon in my stomach.
That pokes and prods with every scale.
With heat from it’s flames that leave skin blushed.
A bloated squeezing growing from the lack of room.
I check my stomach daily.
Searching for holes and bruises,
My hands running over bear skin amazed.
And yet, I feel it now,
Playing chess up my spine,
Each claw catching as it climbs up my vertebrae.
Leaving chills and goosebumps in it’s passing.
I’ve cried out for help.
Wanting nothing more from this beast.
But it leaves nightmares with it’s presence.
And it’s wings make perfect walls.
People just get tired after a while.
Just “the boy who cried wolf,”
But as I spout more words to them scrambling for help.
I see the smoke pillowing out of my mouth.
And before I could question,
We were both just as blinded.
I have a dragon in my stomach.
Years spent together like bitter friends.
Growing used to the burn of it’s hugs.
Even dousing the flames on my own at times.
A begrudging compromise.
Now overtime the beast grew too.
Spending more of it’s passing as a shadow over my shoulders.
Even with much less hold on me than before.
It still watches with delight.
Some days weighing like a backpack of bricks.
Whispering in my ear, coaching. Letting smoke fill my head, confusing.
Most other days are more bearable.
At night the beast stays on my chest.
Like a scaly tiger it curls on top,
With a kneading purr as it settles.
I never quite remember sleeping these nights.
Flashes of tossing and turning from being uncomfortable.
Poking, and prodding, and burning, and now chilling, and now waking up sweating.
The fog only clearing after spending time awake.
Alas there is a dragon in my stomach.
A spiteful beast that took hold there.
With greetings just like an old friend.
And when I finally demanded it’s name.
“Trauma” the beast told me.
Oct 18, 2021
Oct 18, 2021 at 11:03 AM UTC
Like genuinely
I miss it
I made this hello poetry account back when I was a sophomore in high school thinking I was cool writing the poems that I had and letting all those words out.
I’d say it helped. At least a little bit.
But all this pain and suffering I wrote and how the sunshine and rainbows came in the end are complete bull.
I haven’t written a poem since Serendipity and that person still shines love in my life when every other person just left.
Im terrified of my future.
Yet I’ve never been more intrigued.
But in the end I’m just really tired.
Never loose your love of writing.
Never let your words stop flowing from your head.
Cause one day those words won’t make sense anymore.
And I forgotten why I’m here in the first place.
Sep 28, 2021
Sep 28, 2021 at 4:08 PM UTC
You are my serendipity
You are the one who entered my life unexpected
Guns blazing
It was like you fought your way
Without even lifting a finger
You are amazing
In the way with one touch
I can feel your love
Crackling like electricity
As it shoots from my body
Just pure breathtaking love
You are beautiful
Even when you think it least
Because you see the least
I see the sparkle in your eye
When we look at each other at night
Even with it pitch black
I can still see your eyes
Shining open to my heart
Darlings you are more than you think
From the kindness of your heart
To the softness of your touch
You able to calm the strongest storm
With just the slightest hug
You my dear are truly lovely
For it was you
Who taught me love again
That it could exist
That it could be healthy
That love could be shared even to the meanest of people
But still take no ****
And that is why I love again
You are my serendipity
Full of love and warmed
Unexpected but greatly welcomed
I love you with all of my heart
And I can’t wait for what lurks ahead
For you
My love is eternal
You twatt waffle <3
Nov 15, 2020
Nov 15, 2020 at 5:46 AM UTC
I cannot give anymore
With the words in my brain
That call me insane
That makes me feel pain
Something I can not explain
I cannot give anymore
My heart is too big
But that’s not enough
My mind is too sick
Alone that is rough
My lungs that hold air
Are hard to compare
To make me aware
That I am still there
They say you are useful
When you are around
Filling their needs
Even when you are drowned
With water in lungs
Your heart on your sleeve
Tears that leave stains
You mind locked in chains
I cannot give anymore
And though my light is dim
And my life seems grim
A breath of fresh air
A break from despair
Where things seem calm
Time ticks like a bomb
I remember a day
A reason to stay
I cannot give anymore
A light that was dim
Shot off on a whim
Filling with light
Starting a fight
My lungs fill with air
My brain starts to care
Winning the war
I know I can say
I can give more
Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 10:34 PM UTC
I am eighteen years old.
That doesn't seem like a lot,
But to me,
It is everything.
Eighteen years is all I've ever known.
Even if I died tomorrow,
Still eighteen.
While that might not seem like much to you.
You are probably not eighteen.
Despite my age,
I have been through a lot.
Some say more than most,
Even then those who are older.
At eight years old I lost my dad.
At eleven years old I lost my mom.
At eighteen years old,
I've learned to be okay with that.
Between eleven and thirteen I was abused.
I eventually escaped and was safe again.
At eighteen years old I am still in fear of this sometimes,
But I am working on that.
At seventeen years old I applied for college.
I was accepted and excited to go.
At eighteen years old I dropped out.
All of the anxiety and illnesses became too much,
But I am working on that.
For eighteen years I've dealt with mental illness.
Currently being called Bipolar,
Manic and depressive episodes are common,
But I am working on that.
In the past eighteen years,
I've learned new things.
I've learned who to trust,
And who to believe.
However,
I am still working on the difference between them.
In eighteen years I've learned to let go.
Toxic or not.
Family or not.
Just letting grudges be free.
I'm still working on that.
In eighteen years I've learned skills.
With the musicals I've been in.
With my writing continuing.
Even better at communicating now.
But yet I am eighteen.
With time hopefully left,
Leaving room to gain new experiences,
Because eighteen isn't a lot.
But I do thank eighteen.
For all that it has taught me.
From being confident,
To being reassured,
And everything in between.
Because I am almost nineteen.
And nineteen is a lot.
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 5:56 PM UTC
Sometimes when people describe mental illness,
not all can see,
how ignorance is bliss,
how some live carefree.
"Oh well you are sad"
For that is true,
but there is a difference,
from a feeling of blue,
to a weight smothering Depression.
"Oh you can't focus"
For that is true,
but there is a difference,
from hyper and happy,
to a confused, controlling ADHD.
"Oh you are just worried"
For that is true,
but there is a difference,
from caring too much,
to an intense panic and fear of Anxiety.
"Oh well you are just moody"
For that is true,
but there is a difference,
from just being tired or hangry,
to an uncontrollable scream called Bipolar.
It could be the voices of Schizophrenia,
of the vomiting of Bulimia,
but you would not see,
how hard we try to flee.
You are blessed to be healthy,
never fearing your mind,
or how you could be so blind,
to us walking a fine line.
But don't get me wrong,
I am wishing you well,
because I know how,
you would never want hell.
So I applaud your ability,
your ignorance so bliss,
of all you will miss,
ignoring all of this.
So until you learn,
or at least understand,
we are not so bland,
while you live a life so grand.
Jan 23, 2020
Jan 23, 2020 at 4:14 PM UTC
A letter to me.
Not the younger me,
or the older me,
but me.
The one fighting today.
It's a letter to my hands,
for all they have created,
many ideas that have flourished,
even this poem made elated.
It's a letter to my feet,
for all they have carried,
standing when I fall,
rising when I am buried.
Even a letter to my eyes or ears,
for everything they've seen or heard,
grateful for what has been blocked out,
creating room for more that is cured.
These key parts of me,
while I could thank them more,
help me through the day,
even when I am sore.
Just a letter to my body,
forgiveness I would wish,
for all the scars and shame,
that I will never miss.
Forgive me for not loving you,
the way I know I should,
one day you will know,
of all how much I could.
It's a letter to my mind,
a place that is haunted,
whispers that beg,
wishing to only be wanted.
I've cursed you daily,
wanting you to be better,
but never really thinking,
until I wrote this letter.
Yes you can be bad,
yes you can be sick,
but you are still my mind,
and that is something that will stick.
But sometimes you have thoughts,
that are wild and free,
creating ideas,
that can fill will glee.
So for that you are wanted,
for all I take for granted,
for staying by my side,
for not leaving me stranded.
As I get older,
and the more that I see,
on how I should not treat my body,
so pitifully.
Though it has its flaws,
a bad day,
a rough night,
I will always say,
that I need to treat it right.
So this is a letter to me,
the one living today,
to never forget,
why things are this way.
For my body is not perfect,
and neither is my mind,
but it always teaches me lessons,
on how to always be kind.
Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 8:40 PM UTC
When I close my eyes
And try to sleep
Attempting to rest
Letting my dreams meet
I can't stand the quiet
The unsettling silence
When my mind is restless
But the world is silent
My mind races
With ideas that aren't true
With visions that won't happen
With words that weren't spoken
But I lay there
Listening to my mind
As my body lays still
But my mind still screams
Why should I think
Of things that aren't true
Letting my nightmares haunt me
Dealing with constant restlessness
But you came
Unexpected and fast
I have whiplash from your kindness
Words I have never heard before
But as I lay there
Tightly in your arms
I feel comfort
For once I feel safe
My mind stays silent
Even without the rain
Without the fan
It's still quiet
Instead I listen to you
How your chest rises and falls
How your heart begins to settle
Even your sighs of contempt
Everything is still new
And I'm afraid
But when you just hold me
I've never felt this safe
I do not know what love is
Never having the feeling in my chest
But when I lay here with you
I feel I'm at my best
Thank you my love I know that will soon bloom
Jan 14, 2020
Jan 14, 2020 at 3:38 PM UTC
You ask if I love you?
I simply reply I don’t know.
How could one really know,
I’d love truly lies where lust hides.
Do I love you,
When you hold me tight,
When our lips touch,
Or when our bodies connect.
Do I love you,
When I sneak glances,
When I listen intently,
Or when I feel that I can’t get enough.
But when we are together,
My heart flutters,
My hands shake,
I feel tingly.
I feel special.
But you ask my if I love you,
I still can’t respond.
Is it me being with you?
Or being apart of you?
When the heat rushes,
When my legs shake,
**** I know I’ll be sore in the morning,
But that isn’t love.
Love shouldn’t be afraid.
Love shouldn’t be hidden.
It’s shouldn’t be shameful,
Or questioned.
But I guess it doesn’t matter either way.
Because you never asked me if I loved you in the first place.
Jan 1, 2020
Jan 1, 2020 at 9:29 PM UTC
If I could write to the past
Of all that has happened
Of all of what I went through
Of how everything happened so fast
So this to you
To the younger me
To the innocence
That no longer consumes me
Dear younger me
Of all the things I want to tell you
Words can not explain enough
Of what actually happened
Dear younger me
Would I tell how you will go through so much
So much pain
So much heartache
But you will come out so much stronger
Dear younger me
Would I think to tell you the truth
Of all those you will lose
Those who you thought would be there
But now are left confused
Dear younger me
Would I tell you of the places you will travel
Some creating your best memories
Or how others will still leave you up at night
Dear younger me
Oh how I want to protect you
To keep you shielded
From the dark
Dear younger me
Oh how I want to warn you
Of the dangers that lurk
Even in the most trusting smile
Dear younger me
With how much I would give
To be back in your shoes
Even just for a moment
But if even given a moment
I would change nothing
Dear younger me
You will go through hell and back
You will cry some nights until you fall asleep
You will witness things you wish you had never witness
You will try to die at your lowest moments at the age of 13
But do not be frighten
Dear younger me
While you are going through so much
While you feel left in the dark
That you have hit rock bottom
You will rise
Stronger than you have before
Dear younger me
While our life is not over yet
You will meet amazing people
Those who love you
When others wouldn’t
Dear younger me
You will see amazing things
Color brighter than you have before
You will feel peace at times
Dear younger me
Things are never perfect
But you will make it
You are better than you once imagined
Dear younger me
For all the things you wished you were told
For all the things you wished you had done
Even now
I wouldn’t change them for a younger me
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 6:27 PM UTC