Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2019 · 252
“Backwards Grief”
Gray Dawson Oct 2019
My father’s stony face
Gripped with expressionless, death
He just stares at me
And I tear back

The dirt feels too hard
The world, too cold
I’m saying sorry
But everything just feels wrong

I’m grieving for him
But it’s not him who’s dead
It’s me
Gray Dawson Oct 2019
I woke up this morning
And when I felt stomach pain
I hoped my kidneys were failing

When I went to sleep last night
I had hoped that would be the last time
I would have to close my eyes

I rewrote all my letters
Slid them into their envelopes
And sealed them

I cleaned up my room
And thought about what people would think
About the quotes and art on my wall

I gave up on
keeping track of how many times
I swallowed those white pills

I walked through my brother’s room
Looking at the facades
he so carefully tacked on his walls

When I woke up this morning
I just laid back down
When I realized I was still alive

I can’t even manage
To properly **** myself
****, I’m pathetic

As I rode my bike this morning
I looked up at the stars
And I started to tear up

All I could see
Was an empty sky
The stars have become static

I wish I hadn’t woken up this morning
Oct 2019 · 280
“Step It Up”
Gray Dawson Oct 2019
I need security, like a hug that warms me
I can’t keep pretending not to be
I’m struggling to remember what made me better
Cause the words that I used to say seem like an error

The memory of the colonge “Invictus” still floats
His cologne always seemed to calm me during my episodes
But now I’m starting to wonder if that was even real
Anyday now someone will rip off the disguse and make the big reveal

Am I delusional or do I just need to stop obsessively obsessing about everything?
These thoughts don’t sound right and my futures looking grim
I’m chasing a feeling that doesn’t exist anymore
I’m trying to fight and serve in a fictional war

Maybe I really am delusional, and I’m not sure what’s fact and what’s fiction
I’m waiting for someone to give me permission to make a decision of my own volition!
I want people to give a **** or two about the things I’m thinking loudly
I’m just asking for a little respect, after all, I always listen undoubtely

Smash me into the ground with your opinions, just listen and hear
I’m not trying to take your ear
You may not be real at all, but could you try a little harder
I want effort in relationships, not this ******* social torture

I need a push in the right direction, don’t tell anyone, but I probably need some help
I don’t think it’s in my best interest (even if it’s what I want)to be
I’m not trying to be a **** when I say this, bud
But I need you to step it up
Oct 2019 · 463
“The Sunlight”
Gray Dawson Oct 2019
Walk into the room
Daylight is streaming in through the windows and onto the wood flooring
Blue armchairs line the walls
A chess match is set up and being played by two boys
Both kid’s arms are lined with marks
One from burns, the other from cuts

A young boy with curly hair waves me over to him
He has few scars and a softer vibe which makes me approach him
A kid with a buzzcut walks over to us as we chat
And asks why I’m here
Topple over my words like he asked what kind of kinks I’m into
I go with something like compression? Suppression? Oh right, Depression

Soon, I have my story of how I got there, what I’ve done, what *****, etc
And I’m learning that buzzcut kid was locked in his basement for days by mom
We compare abuse and suicide notes
I asked him why he’s here
He just laughed and said, “I tried to overdose. I wanted to shoot myself, but I didn’t want to waste a bullet on myself.” Miss that kid.

I’d been there about a day, before I met “Texas”
A big 5’8, dude, with glasses and some blue plaid Pyjamas
He was loud, obnoxious, but loyal, and open to talk about our issues
I was very outspoken about being trans at the time
And he was a curious man, so he always asked questions
Which I wasn’t always chill with

He was very curious about “If I still had a ******” or “If I was planning on getting testosterone”
Which I still tried to answer, but I wasn’t excited about it
He became protective of me, when we became friends
I was a very open minded dude, with a similar personality
So we clicked alright, and he helped me fight for my own rights in inpatient
He was a good guy, despite his bad qualities

And then it was only later on in that first night, that I met...well...
I’ll call him Josh, like drake and Josh, cause that’s who he always reminded me of
Josh was the only other trans guy there, who I actually didn’t know was trans
And unfortunately but understandably, he wasn’t as open with sharing as I was
He later became my roommate, before having the what we called, “The Josh-Down”
He transferred rooms and then hospitals not long after the Josh-Down

There was something about the morning’s there
Walking into the dayroom, sunlight streaming in,
Breakfast cart full and ready to be passed out
The tv on, and cartoons being shown on screen
Kids half awake, and staff barking orders
The chaotic peacefulness was always my favorite thing

I get flashes of the hospital from time to time
Like now, as I walk into a classroom with other people
For a second, I’m walking into that room again,
Buzzcut and the kid with a soft vibe are waving at me
I feel the sun streaming in from the window on my the side of my face
And the corners of my mouth curl upwards

Turn to look at the sun, and when I look back, it’s just a slowly filling classroom
I was one of the lucky few, to survive
I got to stay at my school, and I’m alive, I have a home
At least three kids from the hospital either ran away or are on the run
Two are homeless
And I can only guess for the rest

The people/kids I met in that hospital, changed me
They changed my perspective on life itself
I don’t talk about it, but the people I met, showed me another side of the world
The side no one talks about
The side where kids have scars, burns, bruises, and more
The side where kids have traumas, disorders, and urges

The hospital is a hush hush subject
But it shouldn’t be
It changed my life, and continues to impact me everyday
It’s a place to heal and grow
It’s a place where kids can get a chance at getting better
Get a chance at seeing that sunlight
Gray Dawson Oct 2019
walking in a dark forest
Leaves crunch beneath my boots
the only sounds come from snapped twigs and fidgeting bodies
Along the tree line are staring eyes
People shifting occaisionly, not speaking
Just staring
They don’t break eye contact
Not once
I keep walking, holding myself tightly
Walking towards a light, but every step I take,
the more the staring gets to me
I try to ignore but then the whispering starts
And suddenly I’m getting chills
their eyes are cutting into me
Now I’m running
Crunching leaf sounds are behind me
As the whispering becomes defeaning
Covering, covering my ears
tears mix with grime
Breathing heavy
sprinting away from the whispers
Finding myself on smooth pavement
Heart beating rapidly but the whispers have stopped
Collapse onto the ground
in a pile of tears
But the stares are still there
just at the edge of the woods
Watching, emotionless.
Oct 2019 · 290
“Last Night I Was Low”
Gray Dawson Oct 2019
Last night I was low
Last night I was low.
Blow after blow,
I found a way to go
Down to the place below

Gather the rope of creation
Make the slipknot operation
Write a note to the nation
And say hello to liberation

Last night I was low
Low. Low. Low.
Ideas always glow
When you are so... Low

Trying to not be another statistic
But lets be realistic
I’ll be dead in a grave going ballistic
Trying to remember how to be optimistic

But I guess I’m just low.

— The End —