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Leighanna May 2019
It’s weird being high-functioning.
It’s hard for others to see what’s wrong, sometimes it hard for ME to see what’s wrong.
I go to work, I clean my house, I cook dinner, I don’t feel much.
I experience life as a monotone melody, everyday feels like the same day on an infinite loop.
I’m here, I’m there, I’m nowhere while being everywhere
It’s not horrible, it’s not great. It just is.
It’s weird being high-functioning because I often forget I don’t have to live like this.
I’m diagnosed with major depression and anxiety along with other things but I am considered high-functioning. This may seem like a good thing but that’s not necessarily the case. Many people go through life as high-functioning without even realizing it. Being high-functioning doesn’t always mean you’re doing better, sometimes it just means you’re getting used to it.
Leighanna Aug 2018
I am like an astronaut floating in the sea
I know where I’m supposed to be
and I know it’s not here
Yet despite the creeping sense of my vindicated isolation
I still manage to revel in the wonderment that surrounds me
I may not be where I belong
But I am here none the less
So instead of trying so hard to find my place
I will accept where I have landed
For while I may not be here for a long time
I am here
And here is beautiful
I’m not really sure what to say about this one, it came to me quite quickly so I apologize that it may not be as good as some of my formers. To be simple I guess it’s just how I feel.
Leighanna Sep 2018
I’m on the edge.
I’ve been on the edge for as long as I can remember.
Staring into a void with no end.
I’m balanced on the edge.
I don’t tip.
I don’t fall.
I won’t.
I can’t.
If I do then all of my pain was for nothing.
And if I have learned anything from my time spent here,
It’s that I am not nothing.
Everyday people teeter on the edge of giving up. I’ve been there for most of my life. It’s hard, it’s not fun. However, I don’t hate it. It has taught me many things, it’s just up to you to see those lessons.
Leighanna Mar 2019
There are things I cannot remember,

There are things I cannot forget.

       To me it seems like an unfair trade.

The things I cannot remember sleep in the back of my skull,

The things I cannot forget scratch at the nerves behind my eyes.

        To me it seems like an unfair trade.

The things I cannot remember remain forgotten,

The things I cannot forget remain remembered.

        To me it seems like an unfair trade.
Leighanna Jun 2019
The fear of intimacy isn’t just a fear of ***.
It’s the fear of receiving a hug from your best friend.
It’s the fear of allowing someone to see you cry.
It’s the fear of telling someone about your past.
It’s the fear of touch from hands that aren’t your own.
It’s the fear of letting someone see you in your underwear.
It’s the fear of sharing a bed with someone.
It’s the fear of telling someone your likes and dislikes.
It’s the fear of saying I love you.
It’s the fear of letting someone know you.
It’s the fear of being vulnerable.
Leighanna Dec 2018
Why would you choose someone like me?

There are women much prettier than I,

With skin softer than mine,

Hair longer,

Bodies better,

Voices smoother,

Eyes deeper,

Personalities richer,

Hearts bigger.

Why would you choose someone like me?

You can have so much more than my low self-esteem.
The struggle with low self-esteem is a harsh and long one. It’s a ravenous cycle of taking away your own happiness before even experiencing it. A cycle of constantly asking why?
Leighanna Dec 2018
Go on ahead without me,

I promise I’ll meet you there.

I don’t know how long I’ll be,

But I do know I’m not done here.

I have so many things to see,

So many things to do.

And with every day that passes,

I’m one step closer to you.

Go on  ahead without me,

I promise I’ll meet you soon.

I’ll miss you all the time,

But that’s just a thing we do.
Recently my mother’s father passed away, and while I was not very close with him, his death hit her quite hard. I dedicate this to my mother and anyone else who has lost a loved one. Just remember that while they are gone for now, they are not gone forever.
Leighanna Dec 2018
In the canyons between the grey matter, lives something much darker.
Swimming comfortably in the river of my mind.

Her voice sounds like mine.
Her face a perfect reflection.

Invading my thoughts with whispered obscenities.
Filling my vision with clouded water.

Her presence is shifty.
Here one day and gone the next, but she never really is.

They tell you not to name your demons
But it’s hard when they already have one.

I have an intruder living inside me.
And the scariest part is that she is me.
Sometimes it feels like I have two people living inside of me. There is me and there is the Other me. The other me is cold and cruel, often overly brash. I don’t like the other me, but I suppose no one ever does.
Leighanna Oct 2018
When I am alone, I am not lonely.

When I am lonely, I am not alone.

Hours spent by myself pass like minutes.

Minutes spent in company pass like hours.

Sitting in my home I feel endless.

Standing in a crowd I feel isolated.

Why does it seem like these things are reversed?
I feel like people often assume that you must be alone in order to feel lonely, but that is simply not true. I often find that it is when you are most involved that you feel most alone.
Leighanna Feb 2019
Today my mother asked if I was feeling lonely.

I hesitated debating if I should let such vulnerability slip between my lips.

But despite my hesitation, I was.

“I get it.” She replied with a tender hand and for a split second I doubted that she truly did.

But just as quickly as the doubt had come, it vanished from my mind.

I did not doubt that she understood my loneliness, for i’ve seen a glimpse of hers.

I’ve bathed in her hearts hollow tears as her trembling body betrayed her strength.

I’ve seen it in the soft grey waves of her eyes as she was immersed in a crowd of familiar faces.

I’ve even heard it in the wind-chime tones of her voice when she calls at 11am to see what I’m doing even though she already knows.

I see her loneliness gazing back at me everyday when I look in the mirror, and I’m comforted by the thought that if we are together in loneliness then we are never truly alone.
I’m not entirely sure what to say about this one, it’s different from what I normally write but it felt right in a way. I’m not sure if it makes sense to any of you but then again I don’t really care if it does or not.
Leighanna Mar 2019
I’ve lost 5 more pounds.

“You look so good!”

With every compliment I feel heavier.

“You’ve lost so much weight!”

Tomorrow I won’t eat.

“I’m so proud of you!”

I’m so hungry.

“It looks like you’ve lost more weight..”

I did, but I won’t admit to it.

“Are you eating?”

Yes, but I won’t say how little.

“How did you do it??”

Trust me. You don’t want to know.
I struggle with Anorexia and no one knows. This poem is comprised of things I’ve had people say to me and the responses I’ve made in my mind. Everyday is a battle and everyday I lose a little more.
Leighanna Sep 2019
Call me baby,
Kiss my skin.

Touch my body,
Drink me in.

Whisper my name,
Free my mind.

Lighten my soul,
Steal my breath.

Take my pain,
Heal my heart.

Wrap around me,
Keep me safe.

Say you love me,
Look in my eyes.

Show me heaven,
Make me fly.
Everything I wish someone would do to me.
Leighanna Jul 2018
Sonder, a word maybe some of you have never heard. An emotion some of you have felt but were never able to name.
What is their name?
The girl walking down the sidewalk, with hair brighter than the sun and shoes darker than the night - what is her name?
The man rushing out the door, hailing for a cab, hoping that he just might make it on time - what is his name?
The people we pass by every day, the people we see get off at different stops than ours, the people we watch cry with a phone pressed to their ear, as we wonder what could have been on the other end - what are their names?
Who are they?
Who are their children?
Who are their parents?
Do they have a dog?
Are they married?
Have they lost someone?
Are they lost?
Do they own a house?
Do they walk to work everyday?
Do they pray to god every night for a miracle?
Are they hungry?
Are they trying?
Do they have a bed to sleep in?
Who do they call for help?
Do they cry themselves to sleep every night?
Who are they?!
Who are they....

Sonder; The realization that each passerby has a life just as complex, and just as vivid as your own.
I wrote this as if it were to be spoken so it helps to keep that in mind while reading. Positive and constructive criticism welcome
Leighanna Aug 2018
Don’t worry about me
My end is coming sooner than you think
I see it in my dreams
It calls to beacon me

I am not afraid
If I was it would come faster
My fate is made
And I am my own life’s master

I cannot run
So I don’t dare hide
Do not cry for me ***
I’ve enjoyed my free ride
I don’t usually rhyme in my poetry but today I decided, why not?
Leighanna Oct 2019
Look up, sweet child
Your eyes are so sad
I’m sorry things had to turn out this bad

Stand up, my love
I hate to see you hurting
I know I can’t fix you, but I can show you the way

It’s dark in here, darling
Come on and take my hand
I’m not trying to rush you, but I know where this ends

Walk with me, honey
You don’t have to say a thing
I already understand the pain you’re carrying

Listen to me, baby
I promise I’m not lying
When I tell you there so much more to life than dying

This one is for you
And the pain you are fighting
As long as you’re walking then I know you are trying
Written for a friend who is struggling, but I hope this can provide a bit of hope for anyone out there having a hard time.
Leighanna Sep 2018
Paper tongues on the blacktops surface

Canary bulbs falling from skeletal branches

Individual sunrises growing in constellation patches

Sweetened breath blowing around our heads

Golden nests being towed along slowly

Crystal mirrors dotting the surface of peaceful windows

Frigid blankets stiffing early morning grasses
Fall has always been my favorite season. This is just a small insight on how I view this time of year ❤️
Leighanna Apr 2019
The snow has come and gone away

Birds they fly, in nests they lay

Seasons come but rarely stay

The ice is gone from lakes and streams

Through my windows the sunlight beams

Another season, or so it seems
A short poem about the coming of spring. Part of the “Thoughts of Seasons” theme I began with my Fall poem.
Leighanna Jul 2018
Your touch was like silk dripping in honey,
But now all I feel is ice shredding my flesh like broken knives.
Your breath was the only atmosphere I wanted to live in,
But now it’s the gas that gags me.
Your smile was the velveteen rabbits dancing in circles inside my mind,
But now it’s the vines choking my alabaster bones.
You were the one thing in this world that I wanted,
But now...

  I don’t know what I want.
Heartbreak can really take a toll on someone, I know it did for me. *Remember I am still pretty new at this so bear with me! Positive and constructive comments welcome!*

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