You'll be fighting your monsters
til you're six feet in your grave.
I know you, you're strong
still it's hard not to cave.
Sometimes in summer
it's easy to forget
that the war is still going
when the battle resets.
Inside, in the dark,
where the flowers can't reach
They see it's their time
to attach and leech.
Lay low, wait til morning
and remember you're loved
when fuzzy little monsters
Return with boxing gloves.
After a few beautiful months of successful depression management, I found myself in a hole one night with no triggers. I felt lonely, helpless, and impatient to get better. I felt disappointed by how suddenly I got back to a bad spot after years of nonstop work. I knew I was going to be okay, but I needed a distraction to get through the night. I decided to visualize my depression as a physical being that was separate from me. I started cheering up as I was writing, so the being became less and less threatening. By the end I had myself laughing by picturing this tiny sesame street looking monster wearing boxing gloves. I'm proud of my little pep talk. I hope someone else finds joy or humor in it as well.
Gifts from my mother
Were paper cuts from packages
That twinged and throbbed.
Beautiful bows in colorful patterns created a corset to not be removed.
Ribbons formed webs inside my chest.
They trap guilt, dread, and shame.
Now you give me a band-aid, scissors, and kisses.
And I know I'm enough.
He gives me emotional gifts every day that are intangible. And there are no strings attached. Love breeds love when you know you are worthy of it.
A patient spider's
Woven web will hold the willful winner,
Of a game played, for the heart
Of the silk spinning spinster.
He will woo the widow
On her perch in the window,
To be warmly welcomed in.
Would the suitor sharply shudder,
To know he should so soon be dead?
The spider's special someone
Will stroll sweetly to his Miss.
He will taste her sprinkled sugar lips
With a first and final kiss.
I wanted to try to write something a little more formated. I remembered a children's book called the Spider and the Fly from when I was much younger. I tried to recreate the story with the spider being more passive in the situation than the original. A spider's hunting style is not to seek specific prey. They build webs and wait for delivery.
I've been thinking of the thump of your heart.
Small quick beats against the side of my cheek.
I can feel it when we sleep. And when we laugh. When you kiss me.
You've taught me hearts have stood still while mine was dancing,
And now I won't dance alone.
We have four left feet,
But tripping precedes a fall.
Two quivers from me match two from you.
Your heart beats greet mine.
You whisper words of affection, without saying a thing.
I thought her mind, her chemistry would take her away.
I've been prepared since
My volleyball game in 10th grade.
They told me about the pills she swallowed.
How they pumped her stomach.
The stomach that I became a person in.
Years later I still can't be sure
which messenger I'll have to shoot.
I dream of phones ringing
to tell me the news.
Still, she's promised,
She will always be my mom.
She will be at my wedding.
And she will work on what's wrong.
Now what they call God
Spits in my face,
Pulls out the rug,
and watches me brace.
But this time it isn't her choice.
This time I don't know
What to feel.
Then what is that, laughter?
Bubbling up and out of my lips?
"They gave me four to ten years."
They gave years to her
and she took them.
She's taking them!
Four to ten years of mornings?
It's a guarantee I've never had.
Four to ten years I'd be mourning.
Instead I'm secure and not sad.
My mother just stopped her chemo treatments because they were ineffective. I felt like **** when she told me she had a few years and I felt relieved. Everyone keeps telling me how sorry they are, but I've been preparing for her death for a long time. I'm just happy to have even a small guarantee of some time.
I'm not single, but I'm alone.
Six word story
I had this dream
That I was still in love.
That your arm is around me
While we sleep.
That nothing hurts because
You believe in me.
Everything I do makes you proud.
I don't worry about the painful ****
my mother drenched me in
when I was hers to take care of.
Now you have me.
Then I had to wake the **** up.
And roll to the side.
And we weren't at home.
We was just me.
And I cried.
I had to remember that
What I felt you felt
Fell short of the truth.
That you were never sure
And as much as I want you,
And as much as I want to,
I still can't feel secure.
What a ******* garbage dream. I know I was happy. And I know I miss it. It will happen again but right now it feels right ******.