Constantly finding more of me through each and every simile
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 2:00 AM UTC
Grief.
They always say “it comes in waves”
Sometimes the waves are your t shirts I sleep in.
Sometimes they are your secret chili recipe we will never be able to recreate.
Other times the waves turn into a typhoon.
They crash so loud around me
They drown out your voice
They drown out your laugh
They drown out your smell
I’m drowning
I can’t see
They are pulling me
Down
Down
Down
With
Them
Eventually,
They
Endup
Drowning
Me.
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 1:11 AM UTC
Then with a lucky swipe right on a long, tequila filled night.
The next chapter of my journey began.
You found me as I was trying to find myself.
You saw I found my way out of my own personal hell.
You weren’t part of the plan.
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 12:55 AM UTC
My body was stolen from me at age ten
When a grown man put his hands where they shouldn’t have been.
Then again at age thirteen
From a boy who I thought liked me.
After age eighteen I’ve never been able to get clean.
A boy with a cute accent forced himself inside of me.
Here I am at age twenty two,
I NEVER would have thought this list would include you.
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 12:42 AM UTC
I have never felt like my body was my own,
Stares and comments from men too grown.
This journey has been all about redemption
I've just been trying to give this monochrome world some dimension.
For years I've been hiding behind a screen,
Begging for attention from the unseen.
My voice was stolen you see
Not once did any one try to save me
Torment and torture for year after year
Left me with nothing but tear after tear
No one seems to notice what happened here
A decade of silence I have endured
An empty feeling, never left cured
I am a little louder now
Standing a little taller, proud
No longer shamed into silence from fear
Not any longer, not this year.
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 12:25 AM UTC
One hour a week,
Forty-five minutes to be exact.
They say I must do this to keep my mind intact.
How much help can one hour each week with a complete stranger be?
I don't know her, she doesn't know me.
How do I walk someone through years of physical and mental anguish?
The suffering needs to vanquish.
I walk away feeling only numb,
How many feelings can I drown with a bottle of ***
I’m not sure how many shots I did that night,
I just know I’m sick of struggling in this fight.
Prisoner to my bed,
Victim to my own thoughts.
Who knew the path to becoming more mindful could make me feel so awful?
So I pull myself out of the abyss,
I know I have to tackle this.
I begin to notice my grief and gloom,
Slowly float it’s way out of the room.
In just one hour a week,
I am finally learning how to be me.
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 12:16 AM UTC