decemberpeach - Hello Poetry

i can’t peer inside my brain to check whether my neurotransmitters make the long jump or simply retreat back home. but the dizziness, nausea, and exhaustion tell me what i need to know. i want to live in the moment. i want to taste joy on my tongue, not oval-shaped white chalk, the clinical blandness of a waiting room. i want the uncontrollable racing of my heart and the shaking of my hands to happen when someone gives me butterflies in my stomach, not when the prescription isn’t strong enough. $28.35 and a few pitying looks are not a bad trade-off for all the answers. or so i thought. but this plastic bottle holds no answers, only the capsulated remains of who i failed to be. maybe i am my own inhibitor. is there someone who can tell me, before i swallow the next one down— where do i end? and where do the pills begin? are my thoughts even mine at all, anymore?

0

Jul 12, 2019

Jul 12, 2019 at 10:27 PM UTC

inhibitor

i can’t peer inside my brain to check whether my neurotransmitters make the long jump or simply retreat back home. but the dizziness, nausea, and exhaustion tell me what i need to know. i want to live in the moment. i want to taste joy on my tongue, not oval-shaped white chalk, the clinical blandness of a waiting room. i want the uncontrollable racing of my heart and the shaking of my hands to happen when someone gives me butterflies in my stomach, not when the prescription isn’t strong enough. $28.35 and a few pitying looks are not a bad trade-off for all the answers. or so i thought. but this plastic bottle holds no answers, only the capsulated remains of who i failed to be. maybe i am my own inhibitor. is there someone who can tell me, before i swallow the next one down— where do i end? and where do the pills begin? are my thoughts even mine at all, anymore?

25

i found a home in the piercing loudness of the train a strange metal box that stopped for no one and everyone all at once, in the way my feet scurried up steps and tapped to the rhythm of a destination familiar yet unseen. i found a home in the makeshift river as thin as my veins, a respite unexpected but welcome, and in the beach as endless as the new happiness that crashed towards me, waves on a cold, lonely shore. i found a home in the hallway without chairs where we all sat, a little dizzy words flowing easily from our lips like the spring breeze forgetting ourselves and remembering each other. i found a home that i built for myself, with small hands that had never held dirt nor brick and, trembling with trepidation, i gave it all my love. it sways in the wind and rain leaks through the cracks, but it is the first thing i have ever called mine. i found a home and left it and i can’t remember why and i am deathly afraid to return for fear i may find it sabotaged by weeds, thick stems curling possessively around something i thought was mine but can no longer recognize.

0

Mar 19, 2019

Mar 19, 2019 at 6:55 PM UTC

i found a home

i found a home in the piercing loudness of the train a strange metal box that stopped for no one and everyone all at once, in the way my feet scurried up steps and tapped to the rhythm of a destination familiar yet unseen. i found a home in the makeshift river as thin as my veins, a respite unexpected but welcome, and in the beach as endless as the new happiness that crashed towards me, waves on a cold, lonely shore. i found a home in the hallway without chairs where we all sat, a little dizzy words flowing easily from our lips like the spring breeze forgetting ourselves and remembering each other. i found a home that i built for myself, with small hands that had never held dirt nor brick and, trembling with trepidation, i gave it all my love. it sways in the wind and rain leaks through the cracks, but it is the first thing i have ever called mine. i found a home and left it and i can’t remember why and i am deathly afraid to return for fear i may find it sabotaged by weeds, thick stems curling possessively around something i thought was mine but can no longer recognize.

33

my words are my escape and my prison. i pick up a pen and plant my feet on whichever page i choose, whenever i wish. my hands create the fate of dozens, hundreds, thousands and behind these bars, i hide so that i may never face the fact that all my favourite memories all my shining moments all the things that touch my heart are fabricated

0

Mar 15, 2019

Mar 15, 2019 at 2:42 AM UTC

words

my words are my escape and my prison. i pick up a pen and plant my feet on whichever page i choose, whenever i wish. my hands create the fate of dozens, hundreds, thousands and behind these bars, i hide so that i may never face the fact that all my favourite memories all my shining moments all the things that touch my heart are fabricated

12