They said when I go to college
My bubble will burst
At first, I didn't believe them
The parties and the alcohol were always out of site
The gangs and drugs too far for me to smell
Then one day it burst
I didn't feel it, like I thought
I thought, it would feel like cannonballing into a freezing pool
On the first day of summer
It was silent
Still
Like the moment after an inhale
Or a scream
After a student cries out
There's an active shooter
I didn't feel him knocking on my door to let him in
Instead, he crept around, found the hole in the fence
In that instant, my fragile walls
After years of carefully building
Crumble
The stranger sitting next to me
Now my brother, sister, in my home
Their faces of shock forever etched in my brain
The school is in lockdown
The blue bubbles of worries sent into space
Hoping something other than bad news will return
I could hear all the prayers being sent to heaven
I was sitting in the back row
Of the largest lecture hall on campus
I do not know if this killer wants to go out with a bang
If he did, this would be his target
Filled with eager, or bored, biology students
I never got this manuel
I do not know how to protect myself from a machine gun
The mass of officials reporting words that used to feel foreign
They would never enter my world
But here they are, next to my forgotten socks
And broken promises
Shooter. Gun. Death. Blood. Knives.
Unsafe.
Unsafe.
Unsafe.
My brother is still asleep
Across the country
Full of turkey and thanks
Never of shock or horror
Once the news comes out, that it was
Just a car hitting people
Just a knife stabbing
Just injuries
Just hospital visits
Just one death
Just the culprit
Why do I feel relief
When my classmates were hurt
Yet I am releasing my breath
Somehow a car running over students
A knife stabbing friends
Was a relief to me
Because these deeds done by a monster
Are less than a gunnman
Why
If he had waited
Got stuck in a traffic light
Two minutes more
It would have been me
Every day I count my blessings
My bubble is still healing
It will reopen again soon
The memories will always be fresh
It is days like these that I am reminded of why
On that day back then
I was so scared to be in one of my favorite places
A school should never be a memorial
I wish I could reach through my LED screen
Tell the victims
I know
I know
I feel your feelings
I recognize those silent prayers
I too, have sent them myself
I too, will never forget the fear
I know this day will forever haunt you
It's pain will never cease
I hope I can help you rebuild your bubble
To make you a little more full
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 6:57 PM UTC
Today is the day
National mental health day
One of the many days I regret
I should speak out
I want to
But my mental illness has me chained
So instead I pull
Pull my way closer
But the chains keep me back
Closer to the truth
Closer to the hesitation
For me, pulling is my release
I read online that the rough ones-
With black bulbs were bad ones
The “wicked witch” ones
So I started
Pulling out my fears,
Doubts,
Insecurities
From my head- one by one
Until I laid there helpless
In a cloud of my mistakes
Somehow seeing all my worries in front of me didn’t make them go away
Instead, I became more aware
More aware of my failures
For the unknown future that lies in store
One by one
October 23, 2016
I kept the receipts
A friend- not a close one, more of those friends of friends
She chose me to tell her story to
She was *****
By a guy we all knew and trusted
A “good guy”
I lent her an ear, or rather a willing text
I thanked her for her bravery
For allowing me to be a small fraction of her story of overcoming
I might be one of twenty she told, or maybe just two
I don’t know. I may never know.
But what she may not know is that night
She became my one
Someone I knew almost nothing about
I told her my story and asked how she told her first
I hoped of getting some of her strength through some sort of Twitter DM telepathy
Alas you can’t gift strength like that
Oh God, I wish you could
I go back and read those messages all the time trying
I read my TimeHop every day
Sometimes for the memories
But more often than not they bring back the nightmares
I do it for the relief
The streak number tick ticking higher
Counting the days that have gone by
Or the hairs I’ve pulled
Tomorrow is National Coming Out Day
Is there a day like this for those who came out to their loved ones about their mental illness?
I will also not be participating.
My mental illness is keeping me from doing so
I am buried deep in my closet, hiding under clothes and forgotten tags
My fingers raking through the carpet
Finding that momentary release
The glorious relief lasting a moment
I run my fingers through the rough fibers searching for more
My family doesn’t know
Or if they do, they don’t want to break our perfect mold
I pull discretely
Around my head, just a receding hairline, no bald patches
Yet
I never get my haircut
At least, by a professional
The last time I went, my stylist said it was new growth
Not my past coming to haunt me.
She pulls at them showing me, calling them baby hairs
How do I tell her that each one represents shame, frustration, guilt
Each one represents one party, one good time with friends I’ve missed
Hiding behind those fears, covered in guilt
Back in my closeted mind
Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I cut myself open
Would blood run out or the words I meant to say?
When it’s a bad day, I pull at large sections of my hair
Wondering what it would be like to rip it all out in two sections
It makes me cry in pain, but the voices tell me about the sweet relief it may bring
I almost give in
What hurts me the most is noticing the people around me who have it
Does the girl sitting in front of me know
One day she may have to get surgery
To remove the hairball in her stomach from eating at her hair?
I see her run it through her lips, feeling the same texture.
Does the boy, scratching away at his knuckles
Understand what’s underneath his skin?
I wonder what his blood would say
Would it tell my story?
Would it tell ours?
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 11:11 PM UTC
You tell me about the bruise you got today
How even though you carefully avoided him
His pleading words started nipping at your toes
Like a new puppy
At first it sounds like a good idea but once you take that little bundle of joy home it will turn into the Tasmanian devil and destroys everything in its path
But you wouldn't know
On the outside you love dogs
But deep down inside you're afraid
You've told me
The tears swimming in your eyes
Threatening at any second to defy you
You are not perfect
We are all made of deformities
Of awkward angles
Puzzle pieces
So that one day we can find our match
Love is a battlefield
Full of scars and bruises
The blue turning into a deep purple before it can get better
It's so hard to not step on the land mines of emotion
The ***** traps of hatred
But you have a shield
A bullet proof vest that will block you from those fears
But it can only withstand so much
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
When you tried to give me a compliment I always turn the cheek
Batting it away like it doesn't belong to me
That my hair is too frizzy for you to like it
My eyes too blue for your brown
My legs are elegant but they are marked with my disappointment
The purple and the blue will never go away
Yes, the bruises will slowly heal but by the time one problem is resolved another sapling and will slowly take root and show it's colors
You say my heart is made to heal
But I can't find it
It's buried so deep I can't hear it keeping time to my life song
It's crushed under all my self downs and worries
In that hollow it grows
Like a new bud
And one day it will turn into a flower
My response to your comment is lost on my tongue
It is somewhere tucked inside my conscience
Playing hide and seek with the directions on how to talk to boys and how to give an oral report without turning red
And I'm the seeker
You tell me I'm beautiful
But I can't hear you
The voices taunting me inside my head are too loud for your soft voice
Arguing about which way right
When I find my answer it seems as if the time has already left
You are already heading off in the other direction
Leaving me stumbling over my daydreams and expectations
Trying to get a grasp on what's ethical
I always forget to say thank you
It's sort of a bad habit
I'm always too worried about what will happen if I say something wrong
If I'll turn you away
I want you to know that I want you to stay
Stay close and hug me when I need it
So I can help you through your hardships
And carry each other's hopes and dreams upon our shoulders
You will be the soldier of my heart
Guarding the gates for all of the knights in shining armor that aren't noble enough to be my Prince Charming
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 9:09 AM UTC
You my friend love to run more than anyone I know
You run so fast your body has to catch up and when it can't it slows you down pulling a hamstring
Then the other
And then your left one again
You had bruises for months trailing up and down your legs-your battle wounds
Weeks upon weeks of stretching
Icing massaging caring bracing eating
Trying so hard to sooth the pain
So bad it hurt to sit
Slowly but surely your legs came back
A tedious process of long nights and good mornings
One day you were new again
In the sweltering heat you taught your legs what it felt like to run
And they loved it
The months flew by chasing you down
You were unstoppable getting first and second a states in the winter
Things were looking up and you started to get anxious about college who would choose you?
But in the end, you chose them
You are an official member of OSU
Proud to be a buckeye
Outdoor season started and you are oh so careful
Spending an hour every day before practice to warm up slowly to not repeat last year's trial
Hours spent after practice to ice and stretch hoping that this horrendous day would ever come again
Today I watched you
I was sprinting on the field while you were meticulously counting and calculating your speed and steps by doing drills
Our brothers strides by-racing each other in the 600
You strode along their side-beating them all when you started to limp
Your eyes turned glossy
Your face crumpled in despair
I to you asking if you were ok
You looked at me like a deer in headlights
To scared to tell me-hoping that the devil couldn't possibly come back to haunt you
Your eyes told me everything
Two pops and a pull
Bad
Very bad
But it's your right leg- your good leg
Impossible
The emotions hit you like you were on a bumpy roller coaster
Frustration
Angst
Anger
Sadness
Frustration
Anger
What did you do wrong?
What variables didn't add up?
Why you?
Why?
I wanted so badly to comfort you
To hug you
But it would put you in so much pain
Who knew that a hug could do so much harm?
I helped you to the trainer
Every step was another test and another reminder
Why can something you love so much it hurts you?
Why should someone so good feel the pain of a pulled muscle?
Why?
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
I think my mother was more scared of giving me "the talk" than I was
I already knew everything from like third grade and yet in fifth grade she still took me up to my room and proceeded to try to tell me that ***** was like gold fish
No really she did. You can ask her. Actually don't because I'm pretty sure she would **** me
When I started to make friends who weren't from my elementary school she would ask: "Are you sure you want to associate with them? They live in apartments."
When I embraced my curls I would meticulously pick out my styling products making sure that they were free of chemicals and hatred
I would pace down the African hair isle in the store while my mother was finding the best steal for the tomato paste next door
She would come up to me and whisper "you know you are buying products for Black people's hair, not yours"
My mother grew up in Worthington, Ohio where she learned that people with disabilities are called ******** as well as people who are not white, straight, Christians
Where people are fat instead of having fat
My mother doesn't know any better
When i made friends who weren't white, she would automatically assume that my Indian friends were smart, my Asian friends could not pronounce words, and my African friends obviously were stupid and didn't have a chance to get a sufficient education
When I visited the Church of Jesus Christ of Ladder Day Saints my mom made sure for my to promise not to listen to anything they say because why we're not "real Christians"
But Momma what if I want friends who live in appartments
What if I want African hair
What if I want friends with disabilities because they sure are a lot nicer than you
What if I want friends who are from different backgrounds
What I dont want a white husband
What if I want a black husband and adopt Asian children
What if I do want to become a Mormon
What if?
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
If I didn't know any better I think you have fallen in love with me
You always seem to fall in the cracks and disappear in the shade
You are always following me around and tripping on my toes
You track my every movement and see my enemies and fears
You see all of my mistakes, adding them up and waiting until you can prance and take me with you to the firey pits of Hell or the golden white paradise of Heaven
I am never by myself-you're always around
Hiding in the most obvious places and watch every moment of my life pass by without a single comment
You're at home where most people are scared
You are always dark and dreary but in the night you turn light
Cheerful
At the candlelight you bring on a spooky vibe
Showing me your soft edges and your mysterious side
Some days when the sun is just right you get shy
Disappearing behind me
I look for you like a dog chasing his own tail
Always too far out of reach
My family doesn't true me
They always talk to you
The girl I always leave behind
To fill up the room
A soft blanket
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC
You were always soft spoken
Whenever we came over you would sit in your big white chair with a heating pad
Everyone fought for that seat when you weren't in it
It was worn with your worries and woes
The heat taking away all of your aches and pains-at least temporarily
When we went to the lake you would take us fishing
Telling us that it was Canada or Michigan across the glistening waves
Zebra mussels always slicing through our toes making us stronger
But we collected the sea glass because after time someone's trash turned into our green and blue treasures
That mustard brown couch
The smell of scrambled eggs in the mornings when we would leave
The fresh tomato juice staring us down-you could finish a glass in two gulps
I will never meet a man who likes to take baths in the ocean
Who can swim so far without a sip of air
Your hands are rough and callused telling your past
Every bruise and scrape tells of your days fixing odds and ends
Working on the railroad
Your son called you resourceful
But in my mind you are an inventor-an artist
You built your homes with your bare hands
the cracks running along the walls
make it look homemade. Authentic
It matches the cracks of skin along your knuckles that tell the stories of your past
You look at the world through a kaleidoscope
Always finding some sort of positive light in the darkest corners
Always finding something to fix so it's in tip top shape
When the days turned into weeks and years the seasons took the best in you
The twinkle in your eye slowly dulled
And someone took away the spirit of you- my grandfather
The day your heart had too much to bear was my birthday
I came home to a frantic mother
We had piano lessons and the car ride felt like forever
The picture of us sat by my bedside every night until mom took it for you to look at
Your rough hands became smooth
your hair became long
Your cheeks sunk in
You slowly became a different man
But in my heart you were still the same confident soul
That night when you let all of your fears out so you could fly I finally accepted it
I told myself and The Lord that I would be alright without you by my side
Instead you would look down upon me and guide me
It was raining on that December 21st
I woke up to my parents gone and the house quiet
I went on a run
Thankful for the rain because I could cry and comfort myself without people noticing
That was one of the best runs I've ever had
It wasn't just a run--it made me think about life
It's funny that after a death we think about out own lives differently
I had to get my priorities straightened out
What do I want to be remembered for?
A caring mother
Bravery
Kindness
A best friend
Just like you
A fantastic father
Grandfather
Daredevil
Caring
Adventurous
If I die with half of the accomplishments you made, I will die a happy woman
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
My feet are disgusting and horrendous
Crooked toes and calluses tell my stories
the pitter patter of them on the kitchen floor, trying to be quit and not wake up my parents in the mornings when I was little
Always wishing they were bigger so I could get new shoes
Years wearing on my feet, scars from running into sharp corners
And yet they still hold me up
smushing them into my skates, getting calluses every week for eight years
running from one place another and are learning why every type of ground feels like between my toes
From the frozen pavement to the searing sand they have been through the harshest conditions
And yet they will never fail me
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:26 AM UTC
Decisions
Eanie meanie minie mo
one can not decide like so
your past is gone, let it go
eanie meanie minie mo
We think they were childish games to play
yet it tells our future each and every day
Its a 50-50 shot
you could go ether way
But there is no turning back
One step in the wrong direction and you are done for
Because the key was thrown into the ocean that could only open the locked door behind you
Like hot lava
A playground game
If you stumble off the side and landed in that hot firey pit of lava you were done for
That ocean where the key was thrown into has turned into a nasty green
The waves and seaweed churning under the dark stormy sky
This is not a message in a bottle but more of a lost man at sea
Every stepping stone could result in a broken heart
A bruise
A forgotten friend
One wrong decision could cause a prodigy to die
Like ******
His Mother almost got an abortion
Her family told her over and over to just go through with the pregnancy
She probably tossed that decision back and forth in her mind
But her family won the match
If she had decided to go against her family I wonder where society would be today
Would there be dozens of Einsteins?
A million Madonnas?
Would there be a cure for all the cancers?
For the common cold?
Every judgement is a puzzle piece
Every step you take back or turn in the unexpected direction is another step towards your fate
Everything matters
If you had gotten one more gallon of milk you wouldn't have run out so you wouldn't have gone to the store and meet your best friend there so you wouldn't be going to that Zumba class
Then you wouldn't have met five of you new best friends and your husband
All of that for a jug of milk
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC