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  Oct 2018 Denise Uy
Mitch Prax
You can’t be replaced,
it’s an impossible feat
so carry on, stranger.
It took me too long to realize
that we aren’t toys, tools,
or parts of some machine;
we exist for ourselves.
what did you come here for,
comfort or a poem?
  Oct 2018 Denise Uy
Erica
never trust a poet's words
they sound sweet at first
but you'll notice the emotion in their words
it all sounds too...
fake
"i love you like the sea loves the shore"
becomes too scripted
you hear the small tinge of love actually left in their voice
hoping
hoping it could mean something
but it doesn't
it never does
it's just the way they say it
one day, after they have left
you will find their poems, and they will be the exact words that they had said to you
once long ago
please understand this poem is in a way just me talking to myself, reminding me to not trust a man who i once loved, thank you
  Oct 2018 Denise Uy
tobi
how can i talk about how the world is
when i’ve only seen such a small part of it
but i guess when you’re stuck in a bubble
it starts to be the only world you know
i only see what the media wants me to see
  Oct 2018 Denise Uy
julianna
There are days
That I look in the mirror and see
An unfamiliar face
There’s a disconnect and I’m
Dissociative.
I know it’s me,
But it feels all so strange
To not feel anything at all.
There are off days
When I speak to people
And I feel nothing from their eyes
They’re just empty and I’m
Dissociative.
You want to have some emotion
But frankly,
There’s none there
Because a glass wall has arisen
Between you and the world
And that’s
Dissociative.
Like the time I was walking
And it was a movie all around me
No depth,
Just a two dimensional view
I was
Dissociative.
Or that time that I was floating
In the top right of my body
As only my concious,
Looking down on myself
Because I was
Dissociative.
It’s like someone has pulled the wire that connected you and yourself/the world. Derealization/depersonalization can be scary, but it’s my reality.
Denise Uy Oct 2018
Just shallow, raspy breaths in this hollow paradise,

and nothing that inspires me to open my eyes.

The barren ground gives me no reason to rise,

and I touch nothing that satisfies.

The shoes that hurt and clamp on my feet,

painful, black leather's the only thing I meet.

Smiling every day is such a great feat,

sad words in thousands of ink-stained sheets.

Uncountable, the laughs.

Unforgettable, the scowls.

Undeniable, the acts.

Undetectable, the frowns.
Denise Uy Oct 2018
Step in the warm sea,
Sit still in the shallow parts...
You'd never swim deep.
Denise Uy Oct 2018
What do I really know?
Is it reality I should let go?
Should I let confusion show?
When's my turn on death row?
How am I already in all-time low?
Am I freezing in the snow?
What should I do if I'm alone?
Who's with me on the phone?
Which things should I condone?
When will I be just bones?
How long should I wander and roam?
Are they just the same tones?
Just asking questions alone.
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