Why do i write?
To help me through the sleepless nights?
What do i gain?
A way to verbally share the pain.
How does it help?
Gives me a way to express myself.
Poetry gives me a way to share my many thoughts
and the many battles that I've fought.
Why do I write?
Just because it feels so right.

“it should be.”
being afraid --
it’s not a thrilling feeling,
not a rush,
not something
that anyone asks for.
it’s a heavy,
and eerie kind of silence.
not knowing what’s next,
who will speak,
who will leave,
when it ends --
or if it even will.
no one knows.

being afraid
feels like your insides
are twisting
trying to strangle themselves.

not butterflies --
but knots,
tight and mean,
it's your body sounding the alarms
in the only way it knows how.
a sickness that whispers,
“brace yourself,”
for something
that might not
even come.

Unsure about everything
Dreams come every night
They creep up on me, overthinking
These overwhelming thoughts I fight

i wish it was enough.
why can’t it be enough?

I'm mourning the person
I never became
The one who was normal
Who didn't carry all the blame

My younger self would dream
Of many friends and happiness
But all I am now
Is a lump of unsteadiness

I'm mourning the idea
Of the person I would have liked to be
The one that could have been me
The one
That isn't

I never became someone
My younger self wished to be
Saw the things she wanted to see
Instead I feel all this pain constantly

Is that what she survived for?
She did not survive for me to be miserable
She survived for more
She survived for someone
I never became

Hamilton plays in the kitchen
My eyes growing heavier each song
Staff are messing around as if
they are children on the playground
The world around me is moving
but for once i am allowed to be
still

My mind slows down for the first time in awhile
and the world becomes
a warm blanket
Comfortable and dark

Thank you