My Phone explodes with text after text
People wondering who and what's next
What party is that? Who's boyfriends is this?
An destructive illusion of bliss
Be careful for you might miss
The noises, the voices, creating a cacophony of choices
Hang with them, joke about serious things
But all this fake ******** brings
Is plastered smiles and fake laughter
But no one knows what goes on after,
After I leave the party, the hang out, the game , school
I close my bedroom door and the tears began to pool
I can't keep up
But i can't give in
Because then my mind wins
And it is a dangerous game
For the mind cannot be tamed
It is wild, thoughts running free
Over and over engulfing me
In bubble Of doubt and self loathe
The sadness becoming my cloths
wrapping me up, all nice and tight
I won't put up a fight
So I relish in my loneliness with delight
It is there where I can rest
No texts, no parties, no tests
Nothing can touch me but my emptiness
And though it be sad
It really isn't bad
Because i don't have to wear a mask
Force laughter
Fake a smile
I think I'll stay here for a while
This is what happens when your mind gets to tired and broken
Listen to these words I have spoken
Bipolar, depression, and anxiety ****
They cannot be fixed by just taking a pill
Kids, adults, and teenagers need to be to educated about these things
And what we can bring
To the table of ideas and research
It is absurd
To think that these things are a "phase"
It's time we call it what it is
Not inncocent
Or pretty
But harsh and gritty
It is more than a thing, it is a condition
And I am a witness of this
Pandemic of Mental Illness
By Kennedy Grace Woodard
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 5:00 PM UTC
There's a difference betwen running
And trying to put something behind you
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
You sat beside me and spoke so sweetly
Let your hands run up my back ever so discreetly
I felt you dancing along my vertebrae
To the tunes of your own words that mould like clay
It took all of me to lift my sleeves
And show you my scars, the reason why everyone leaves
You titled your head to get a better view
Pointed out every dark depressant hue
Then you let your tongue slip
To tell me they're not the wreckage of skin, shadow and ship
That they're not remotely close to how bad they could be
Little did you know how much those scratches mean to me
You spoke of a girl you once knew
Like a Broadway play acting on cue
Mine were nothing compared to hers
In your words, mine are like nicks from spurs
You left me blowing in an empty breeze
While I whirl around like branches falling from trees
Nicks and cuts becoming apparent
My chest transforming transparent
Now I sit curled in a blood soaked bed sheet
Unwillingly trying to compete
Keeping my bones warm
While emulating thoughts swarm
To think you were going to be the one to make my bed
To think you were going to be the place to rest my head
As if I don't hate my inflections enough
You turned into a wolf and puffed and huffed
Blowing me down like a house made of straw
Then you sat back and laughed as I crawled
Letting the stones cut my upper thigh
You asked me what it feels like to die
I told you that it feels a lot like this
And those tiny little nicks shouldn't be dismissed
Because every wound bleeds
It's a part of sufferings deed
And soon enough they'll bleed you dry
By then it sure won't help to cry
You will be the death of me
And only then will you see
That those nicks and cuts mean so much to me
And that they are as bad as they could be
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:10 AM UTC
At night while you're lying in your bed, angry at the sleep your body is depriving itself of, I hope you think of me and I hope your blood boils.
When your brain is dancing, tangled and knotted with your demons from all realms of your life; past, present, future, and you feel your hands clench into wrecking ball like fists, I hope you feel my phantom hands close lightly around them reminding them the pain isn't worth it. And then I hope you swing anyway.
When you grip a hand full of your hair, I hope you feel my fingers brush the tendrils from your face, and then I hope you pull.
When you lean against the first solid object in your path, on both arms, just looking for something to hold you up, I hope you feel my arms snake around you and my breath on your neck reminding you to breathe, just breathe with me, like this, slow it down, match me. Then I hope you forget how to breathe all together and your legs give out and you fall, weak, to the ground.
While you're down there shaking with anger and sadness and heaving out tears you dare let no one see, I hope you miss my calmness.
And more than anything, I hope as every second plays out you know that all it would take is one call, and I'd be there to ease you out of the nightmare I know you're trapped in.
And then, I hope you choke to death on the thought of letting someone like that go.
And I hope for your sake it was worth it.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
l am the familiar unfamiliar.
I am a house of bones working as your cage of sorrow.
I am the three o’clock suicide hotline call your mom doesn’t know about.
I am your shallow breathing.
On a clear, cold night I am the emerald flash
Of the dying sun on the ocean.
Blink, and I’ll be gone.
I am the lukewarm coffee you force yourself to finish at the cafe.
Bitter, cold, and disappointing,
But you can’t stop drinking.
You once told me that coffee was the only thing keeping you alive,
So I pulled the plug on the machine.
I am the regret you throw up from your weekend binging routines,
Spilling from your mouth and falling off your lips like lava.
You could never keep me down.
I am Van Gogh, cutting my own ear off
In attempts to get your love.
I didn’t realize that giving it to you meant throwing a piece of myself away.
I am the earthquake that shattered the foundation of Los Angeles
just because I could.
After all, you always said you liked disaster.
On the nights that you actually manage to sleep, I am the spider
That crawls into your mouth.
It’s always been my favorite place to go.
I will love you like a mother loves her unborn child,
Cherishing the sight of blood just because it reminds me of you.
I am the two things you hate the most,
Paper cuts and taxes.
I am the two things you love the most,
Smoking and forgetting.
When you go to light your lucky, I am the kiss
Between the flame and the paper:
Something you only want to do once.
But you don’t have a smokers cough for no reason.
I am the desire in a baby’s grip to hold his mothers hand.
But, I am the mother who never cared.
I am not the tropical showers everyone wishes for,
But the devastating monsoons.
I am the reason storms are named after people.
When the winds are howling and your fingers are blistered with frostbite,
You can count on me to not be there.
Your mother always warned you to wear a seatbelt,
For fear of a collision.
I am the windshield your head crashes through when you don’t listen,
Carving the word
“Guilt”
Into your scalp.
I only wanted to see how your brain worked
When you weren’t thinking of me.
I am the look on your best friends face when he catches you
Sleeping with his girlfriend.
I am the teeth you lose from the punch;
Hide me under a pillow and I’ll disappear.
I am your ravenous drug habit,
Breathe me in enough and I’ll give you a high
You could have never imagined.
I am addiction.
I am withdrawal.
I am the lies of God and the hope for redemption
At your AA meetings.
Talk me up enough and I’ll be truer than your fathers gambling habit.
I am the tears that fall from your grandfathers eyes
When you tell him about the last time you tried to **** yourself.
After all, it was just yesterday.
I am the stones you placed in your pockets
And the icy river you plunged yourself into.
I am not the stranger who saved you.
I will never be the one to save you.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:04 AM UTC
They say society will accept us. They say be yourself. And then they hate you for it. They say "your ok". They say i will never leave you. They say they won't hurt us. They say the world is a good place filled with good people. Don't they know we are corrupted? We are a poisoned youth. Made out to be something we are not. Infatuated with the image of perfection. Of beauty. Trying to fit a mold that changes everyday. They say society will accept us. And all thus time they act like they are telling us something new.
-Kennedy G. Woodard
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
Anastasia was my friend
her face was always pale
she always wore a ribbon
& her daddy went to yale
she was the talk of all the playground
the new girl always is
excited, unready to settle
like her coke-a-cola's fizz
until she sat beside me
& tapped me very slow
"i want to run away," she said
"but i don't know where to go"
i too was quite unpleased
"come and follow me"
so there we packed our knapsacks
and took off for Belize
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
Now you know that I’m just a borderline
I’ll kick you out when my bloodstreams flow
Even if a firm hand on mine could stem it,
I let you in only to tickle the sinew and marrow
But I love you, true, you’re my only glass case
Needing you to borrow all my pain,
I pinned your wings and made you taste
The bile of my noncommittal pendulum again, again.
Between the tumult of self hatred and desire’s embrace
That dark dysphoria you found in seeing me
Enflamed loss when I left the mire of us
Without a battle calm instilled at the seams
Allowing our hearts in the rolls of our sleeves
We are dangerous.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 12:30 AM UTC