Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I read a quote somewhere that said,
"I don't know how many times I have survived myself, without telling anyone else."

And I felt those words shoot through every nerve in my body. I felt them so deeply.

And I wonder how many of us feel the same way.

How many nights we fought off the suicidal thoughts, the urge to cut, the urge to purge, the urge to run or to hide out, alone, too afraid to worry or bother our friends and family.

How many days and nights have we all suffered in our own darkness alone?

People like us fight a battle no one can ever fathom because it's a battle no one can see. And we don't let them.

I've fought myself and survived myself alone so many nights.

There were nights I use to lose my own battle. But some how still came out alive.

I guess that's how we keep going. Because every time we give up we come out stronger.

You fight yourself and beat yourself up for so long that eventually you become a master of surviving a war.

We're warriors.

"I don't know how many times I've survived myself, without telling anyone else."

Tonight, I'm telling all of you.

I survived myself.

And if you're still here and you're reading this, you survived yourself too.

It's not easy but you did it.

And I'm so proud of you all.
The original quote "I dont know how many times I survived myself, without telling anyone else.", which triggered the whole poem was written by @deadwatered. A talented poet I follow on tumblr.
  Jul 2022 The Young Poet
Alex
Others judge me for being lazy when they cannot see the invisible walls created by my anxiety
I do not choose to panic every time I leave the solitude of my own room
I do not choose to shut down every time I make even the smallest mistake
I do not choose to put off taking care of my basic necessities until after the last second just so I can avoid talking to people
There are not enough words in the world to describe how much I wish I could leave the prison that my anxiety has created around me, but I seemed to have lost the key
I know I'm not very good at poetry but I still like to come on here every once in a while and give it a try anyways
  Jul 2022 The Young Poet
Belle
i found stretch marks on my body the other day
i started slapping at them as tears ran down my face.
"i am okay."
"i am recovered."
"they dont matter"
but now all i can think about is what men will think of the red streaks on my hips and legs
how i wont be pretty anymore
ugly.
so effing ugly.
"i am okay."
"i am recovered."
"they dont matter"
they're natural, but i wouldnt have gotten them if i didnt gain a drastic amount
i cant see past them.
i weighed myself again, too.
"i am okay."
"i am recovered."
"they dont matter"
theres more coming
i see more everyday
i cant wear bikinis anymore
i cant have *** anymore
i want to rip off my skin.
"i am okay."
"i am recovered."
"they dont matter"
  Jul 2022 The Young Poet
Kaylee
Everyone has their addictions. I’m addicted to you. I’m addicted to the way you make me feel in control while you wrap me around your finger. I’m addicted to the emptiness.  Drowning myself in banana coloured pills as I stuff my fingers down my throat. I wash my emotions flush down, swirling away as my body cries for mercy. For me stop abusing it for a vision of perfection that I will never reach alone. I can’t stop, losing control is like a death sentence. You’re killing me but I love you all the same. Sometimes I wish I could be free. To go back to a time when there were more than numbers on my plate. Before the calculator in my head began to count. A time when I was happy. The only way to be free is to let go of you. But letting go feels like dying even though I’m dying anyway. I can’t get enough of you. This pain is all I know. I am nothing without you. I sometimes want to live but I can’t bear the feelings of being alone. I love you.
  Jun 2022 The Young Poet
B P
There's good days
and bad days
one day the world is sunny
but the next on my shoulders

I can laugh and smile and enjoy the day
be with my friends and feel good
ignore my flaws
smile, not cry

but when I am alone
the sadness drowns me
the pain engulfs me
the mirror pains me
the tears escape me

There's good times
and bad times
I've felt sad for so long
but I can still smile
I hold on to that.
Sure, there are events
That mnemonically make sense,
But the entirety of that day, yes,
Slips as we take new steps
Toward the promised morning beyond our essence.
Trials become more, we grow to become less,
Something we need not confess,
For it cannot be concealed, even in our code of dress.
There are groans for the day to cease and those for the day to onward press,
How can this opinionized split be reconciled? Unless
Our own lives we assess
And remember those moments that still impress
Our minds and attitudes, this can we address.
When the day and our remembrance
Of it seem to fade in all hopelessness
Of retrieval, remember at least the happiness
That kissed you in distress,
That lifted you like incense.
A quintessence
Of what it’s like being on the fence
When time unleashes an offense
In weak defense
Against what we hold nevertheless
Not with hands, but with dense
Feelings, those with irreplaceable innocence.
If I have the time, why not rhyme lol?  Ever since my collegiate experience, I've been anxious about remembering each day, even just ordinary tasks because I'm afraid I will lose sight or thought of what I've done (not to be egotistical) and accomplished.  Though summarily even tasks are fleeting things, in order to remember the times I or anyone want to remember, it would only make sense to remember something at all, right?  Anyway, enjoy!
Next page