Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
KatySauer
KatySauer
34/Gender Nonconforming/American I'm using art as a tool in my healing process. I struggle with a number of mental health issues including dissociative identity disorder, Complex-PTSD from childhood and adult trauma, Bipolar, and Borderline Personality Disorder.
I lay myself in the road Waiting for either oncoming traffic Or finally, finally FINALLY Someone to come along Pick up my broken pieces And carry me to safety. But I am not the child Easily excused of tantrums, Forgiven for irrational behavior. Somehow I’ve become an adult And expectations weigh on me To know how to cross this street All on my own, all by myself.
0
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 12:39 AM UTC
Not the Child
I have a dream Of a home on a hill With a meadow and a stream Flowers dotting countryside A breeze blowing gently Through the trees As long as my eyes are closed I can still believe But hope is a four letter word And sometimes truth is Nothing but deceit I have a nightmare Of a house on a hill With a blazing fire And nothing but smoke in the air I’m running through tall grass Suddenly turned to sharp, sharp glass Bullets made of rage and lies Mortar shells and mines exploding Rocking the ground beneath my feet I reach the trees and finally rest Barely breathing, barely being But finally seeing, eyes wide open I have a dream of a home That now I know, I’ve never seen.
0
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 12:21 AM UTC
I Have a Dream
Frigid fingers running down my spine Wrapping around and squeezing my lungs Coating me in thick layers of ice. I'm forcing my feet flat on the ground, Gripping onto the present so tightly My knuckles turn an ugly shade of bone white. Eyes darting, landing on things In the now, hoping to not get lost In hidden movies that attack me from the shadows Mental VHS tapes that replay in high definition Making me doubt my sanity. Terror running so deep that I reach for blades To carve not just into my skin But my very own identity. Chopping off chunks to store the flash flood Without drowning in the swamp. This saving grace rapidly turning Into the one and only thing, I may not survive. Shards, past broken off come back So brittle and sharp they threaten to pierce My heart at the slightest wrong move. I have lived through one war only to enter another That seems to have higher stakes. Panic freezes my veins and leaves Beads of cold sweat on my flesh. I am paralyzed and frigid. Gasping for each and every breath.
0
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 12:16 AM UTC
An Attack of Panic
I have to keep pushing forward Fighting each battle I forget why I’m here I can’t remember what exists Past all the pain and the fear I don’t have time to rest I can’t afford the luxury of breath I’m engaged in a war Where sides simply don’t matter You’d never expect it of me Spending all my time on the frontlines I’m bleeding, bruised, and broken Somehow I’ve been shattered Thousands of the sharpest pieces Self-created weapon set on attack Like my own cold war missile crisis I’m just trying to create myself How can this agony have meaning The loss of my innocence Destruction of my very being I’m less of a person each time and it aches This is the price I pay for staying alive On a battlefield made of childhood All I know is how to keep moving One small footstep in front of the other
0
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 11:51 PM UTC
Battlefield Made From Childhood
It's as if I've stepped Out of the valley of a mountain but instead of seeing hopeless forever journey my eyes light upon the glint of the sun the winding twisting pathways, which are many I can see the tricky dangerous leaps and the stretches of peaceful flowers rocks crusted in ice and cliffs laced in ivy but most of all the beauty from all the pain and a life not spent in death.
0
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
Out of the Valley
If I could I'd run away from being me I'd let this endless journey go to finally be free but I am reminded that every path has it's burdens to flee is pointless you can not escape the pain that is to be alive.
0
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 8:54 AM UTC
To be Alive
Death, a bittersweet ending So tempting in it's finality the release, the numbness suffocating me, causing me to romanticize horrors the opening of my very own veins pouring out every single drop of my ebony red life.
0
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
Bittersweet
Possibly the ugliest word Just Used to excuse Thrown about to limit Quantifying my experience With your own. You say it with such ease, Just a joke, Just a little, Just a girl, Just this one time. Like you can know What anything means to me. Your just jokes have power to make me bleed internally, to press play on tapes recorded since my birth, embedded in my brain. Your just a little could span a canyon or possibly to the sun, little enough to rewrite the course of my life. Your just a girl, quantifying my worth through my gender, pushing me to reject my very flesh. Just this one time making me doubt my own thoughts cursing me to minimize every single one time and how it broke me before I was even grown. And if that was not enough Just Stealing my sanity Undermining my success Just school Just graduation Just a job like living in constant anxious waiting and making straight A's was no big deal multiple suicide attempts and losing hope over and over was nothing After all of this I'd love to just you yet I can't. Even as I carry on, it can not be just my past. I will never call you just a man. You are not a man or just a predator, you are so much more than one word Just a father because you never were and you never will be.
0
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 8:42 AM UTC
Just
Response to a very general demand Compact is compatible Seldom if ever, used Fall below the general standard set. Now the night is over Very real enrichment Outpourings of the hearts of the people Give Expression to New expression in, Inner life, In such large measure.
0
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
Now the Night is Over
I want to run desperately want to flee but somehow I choose to risk to lose the very heart within my chest giving you all my very best hoping to never grieve I choose for you to not believe like so many before walking through an open door
0
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 10:43 PM UTC
Risk to Lose