your ***** is divine
i want to drown in your waters
i want to be crushed by the pressure
of your depths

in the fourth hour
of the early morning
my wakefulness
is met with your sleepy stillness

your lips, puffy and pink
dimly illuminated by the
lights of the city,
creeping through our window,
unapologetic.

your eyes create crescent moons
your cheeks, gentle mountains
your unkempt hair
spilling over your pillow
wild and free

you are a work of art

i extend my hand to meet your face
allowing myself to indulge in
the warmth of you
stroking your cheeks
running my fingers through your hair

in your ambit,
the passage of time
is no affliction

it is a gift. it is heaven. it is everything. there couldn’t possibly be enough, time.

enough time.
enough time for you, for me, for us

enough time.
to touch your face,
to watch you as you sleep,
to hold your shaking hands,
to miss you even when you’re not far
to call you on a long drive

to sit together in the stale cool air of autumn

to sit together

in pain
in laughter
in sorrow
in  joy
in uncertainty
in forgiving
in understanding




in love.

there’s a certain peace
that comes with our noisy little apartment
west of the city, still within its bounds

a chirping bird, the bell of the trolley
a siren wailing in the distance

wind rustles through the leaves of the shingle oak outside our bedroom window
brown and crisp, they’ll likely hold on till spring

light peers through our window, facing  east
illuminating the plant that was carefully placed there
every day, waiting, for its moment in the sun

I turn to face you.
you’re heavy and warm
lips pursed ever so slightly in your slumber

stirring
as our little cat tip toes
around your head,
looking for a place to settle in

I lean my weight into you
and I am met with the warmth of your touch
molding my body to fit the shape of yours
as you indulge in your Saturday slumber

the trolley screeches against the tracks
as the bird continues to sing it’s tune
my cat finds herself settled at my feet
and I, entangled in you.

maybe it’s the societal overload of dopamine  
that make moments of stillness so stale, so dry, so unbearably empty
like a clap and an echo in a hollow auditorium
shouting into the void, met only with a reflection of me

Longing for connection
Hand pressed against a pane of glass
ear pressed against a corded phone
in this prison of my own creation

soft cheeks
radiant smile
a love unlike any i've ever known

You are my sun
my light
my greatest adventure

chacos
messy bun
brown hair
brown eyes
baking a pie
holding hands in the grocery aisles
contagious laughter
an amazing actor
the kindest smile
the warmest cuddles
playing the bass
kissing my face
reading hallmark cards
petting her dogs in the yard
giving me an encouraging squeeze on my arm

the thought of that white dress
with laughter and love surrounding me
used to give me a feeling inside similar to that of
laying atop of a warm fitted sheet
covered with a freshly tumbled comforter
pulled from the dryer just for me

but now it just feels like
crawling between cold sheets
dark and alone
i fall asleep

Soon

I think there's something broken deep inside of me
In a dark and unreachable place

"You don't want to look back at your life and realize that you wasted it in front of a screen, do you?"

That's what they say.

And to them, I'd say
There are times that I feel everything around me is crumbling.
That I'm crumbling,
That my mind is turning against me.

As much as I try to fight it
I can't help the crippling depression and anxiety
that comes from seeing
a raincloud in the distance
Or sometimes, for no reason at all.

I can't control how the depression festers,
the intrusive thoughts that tell me
everyone would be be better off
if I wasn't around,
that there's a way to assure
that I'll never be caught in the rain again

I cannot count how many times I've turned to substance abuse to stop the thoughts.
I cannot count how many times the substance has worsened my condition,
Made me paranoid, Afraid of myself,
afraid of what will become of me
if i allow myself to stay

I cannot count how many moments I've had where I shoveled mountains of food into my mouth during a binge because I wasn't sure what to do with my hands.
I cannot count how many times I've punched a wall or slung everything off my desk because I needed to act impulsively in a way that would harm only myself.
I cannot count how many times I have thought of ending my own life.
I think about it every day.
More than once a day.

Sometimes I get so bad off that I can't do anything at all.
I know I can't die
my desk is already empty, i don't have the strength to throw a punch
The thought of food makes me want to *****

Those really bad times are when I turn to
my favorite TV shows for comfort

Watching a good series is like
getting ****** into a different world,
escaping from reality, all while
Being gently reminded that
there is good in this world.
that there are reasons to stay
Even if the only thing keeping me there in that moment
is the cliff hanger that was left for me at the end of the episode

If the distraction of the plot alone wasn't enough already,
the characters teach me

Katara teaches how to stand up for what you believe in and to never lose hope
Zuko teaches that you can shape your own destiny, and do what is right.
Toph teaches that you should never let another person define your abilities

Jim and Pam taught me that love doesn't always have to die as you grow older
Dwight and Angela gave me hope that things can work out in the end, even if the road is rough

Amethyst teaches that you should be comfortable with your body and its abilities
Garnet taught me to never be sorry for being who I am
Pearl taught me that it is possible to move on from losing someone you were in love with
Steven taught me that you should always stand up for what is good

Leela showed me that women can kick some SERIOUS ***, and that we should be proud of it.
Fry showed me that home is defined by being surrounded by people you love

Rick taught me that in the grand scheme of things, a lot of the things i blow up in my head are very very trivial, and that i should focus on more important things... like science!

Lastly, Morty taught me
"Nobody exists on purpose, nobody belongs anywhere, everyone's gonna die, come watch TV"

what are you to do
when you're walking down a hall
gray walls, gray floor, gray ceiling
no texture at all

the hall is long
like one of those assignments they make you do
in your highschool art class
where you draw two lines
that start with some distance between them
but as you drag your pencil across the paper
you angle the lines inward towards one another
maybe to create a road or
a hallway with checkered floors
and doors that you never angle quite right

but my hallway
is just... gray
and drawn out, it seems that the hall never stops
all i can think
all i can feel right now
is that i'll drag my feet step by step
through this bland bland hallway
and when i reach the end of the drawing
the illusion that it continues
i'll just leap off the paper

im so alone
i am so
alone

In the past, when the present would become too heavy
I'd throw myself into the idea of a distant future
That future was bright and hopeful
Because I always pictured being loved by someone else
In a home decorated to fit our taste
With little plants that'd never go unwatered
And a kitchen where I'd make all my favorite foods

But most importantly, in my little future, I was happy because someone loved me and was there to pick up the pieces when I fell apart.
And maybe that's why I'm so unhappy right now
Not because no one loves me
Because even in my fantasies, in the most sunshiny and optimistic crooks of my brain, my happiness was still dependent on the romantic love of another person

How is it that I've become this way?
That I place my self worth in how other people perceive me?
Worst of all, I'm picky about who determines my worth

I don't want love handed out to me, no no
Because I don't trust it! I don't trust that someone could love me
without a struggle after knowing me and seeing me for who I am
So when someone does love me, I question it constantly
I get angry with myself
and that's no way to live.

How am I to allow myself to be loved without restraint if I can't even love myself?

So now, my safe haven will be
Bright and hopeful,
An apartment decorated to fit my taste...
and the taste of four other girls, with whom I'll be living
Fake plants because none of us are mature enough to keep a real one alive, and that's okay right now
A kitchen where I'll cook easy meals because I'm young and have **** to do
Most importantly,

In this future, I will be loved.
Because I am going to learn to love myself.

Please god make it stop

One day I will walk out of that door
and never walk back in

Depression is Skipping meals because it's easier to be hungry than it is to get myself out of bed

Depression is Sitting on the floor and desperately trying to talk myself into putting socks on...
Because putting socks on would require wiggling up the bottom of my skinny jeans, putting the socks on my feet, and then carefully pulling the jeans back over my socks without messing them up (you know the feeling I'm talking about)

Depression is struggling with the socks because I know once that part is over, I'll have to put shoes on- the converse match my outfit.
But I've got a wide foot, and I can take converse off without untying them, but I HAVE to untie them to put them back on.
So I have to untie these shoes,
And the RETIE THEM. It's a lot. It feels like so much.
I know it shouldn't.
It's putting on shoes.

But wait, there's more!

Once the shoes are on, I've got to pack my book bag, Which first requires taking the stuff out.
Once the stuff is out, I have to put that stuff in its place.
then I've got to put more stuff in the bag,
I have to put the bag on
Walk out the door,
Eat.
Class.
Rehearsal.
Drive
Park
Walk to my building
Up the stairs
in the room.

Take the shoes off
Change,
Lay in bed

Know that I could've been in bed all day
Try to celebrate what little I did
Fail.

Toss and turn knowing I should've done more.
Fall asleep feeling alone, wondering why I'm never satisfied.

Wake up.
Meds.
Socks?...-
Realize it barely changes

Because

I'm sitting here typing this at 3:53 pm
When I should be
Putting.
My.
*******.
Socks.
On.

there are so many wedges in my time line
i hate that i'll just be another wedge in yours

they're happy to see me
and I just feel guilty

"You can hope it gets better
you can follow your dreams
But hope is for presidents
And dreams are for people
who are sleeping"

"I didn't want him to feel bad about this. I wanted him to see the obvious, that it's okay for him to let me go. He's been through so much, and he's finally through it. He needs to not have me around to worry about anymore. He needs me to free him to be brilliant" (Garth 5).

I want to laugh

i want to squeeze my brain like a pimple
until it pops
and my mental illness spurts out
like ****
onto my ceiling

Nothing is left untouched
It all leads me back to the same
Terrible terrible place

"You don't miss me, you just missed the person that loved you so much you didn't have to love them back"

It doesn't come easy
Or without any pain,
A struggle,
Wanting to give up

You have to push through
until the end

They say that when you're running, locking your eyes on a distant object makes it easier to push through until the end.

That far away object holds no real power over you. It can't heal your aching muscles or replenish your lungs of much needed oxygen. It somehow just... makes it easier.

Maybe that object is where you've decided you want to end your run next week; and maybe you've already got your next object picked out. This is good. This is ideal.

Maybe the object is your bottle of water, sitting on the ground at the end of your driveway, and maybe you're only trying this hard because you're driven by thirst. This is not ideal. But creating motivation may be a step in the right direction.

Maybe the object is of no significance and maybe you're only looking because without that object... without something to cling on to... you may not make it to the end. Quitting is not an option. This is the best you're doing given the circumstances. These circumstances are not ideal. But what you're doing is good. You will not stop.

Regardless of the motivation, or lack of motivation
You lock on.
You cling to it.
You Don't. Stop. Running.

I don't know if this makes me weak or strong

Or selfish or selfless

I don't know if I'm right or wrong

I'm so tired
the solutions are laid out in front of me
so easily obtainable
yet i'm filled with uncertainty

I can't seem to grasp it
such simple concepts
go to class, don't eat like crap
put the drink down, stop smoking grass

go to the gym three times a week
and treat your body kindly
oh but you shouldn't go if you're there
with a mentality that's unhealthy

Spend time with friends
don't you dare let yourself isolate
ignore the empty feeling in your chest
struggle to play along and relate

maybe sit on that familiar ole' bench
learn a new song on piano!
hear yourself out of tune
belting out your sorrows

slam your fingers on the keys
try to drown out the voices in your head
screaming at you to ******* give it up already
because what you're saying is better left unsaid.

cover the keys, push in the bench
storm out of the beige colored building
clench your fists, try to stop the tears
hope to god that no one is watching

walk back to your tiny room
pace back and forth
you can make it go away for now
but that'll only make it worse

wonder what the **** is wrong
and why you can't seem to cope
think of the things you used to love
that now you're broken with no hope

lay in bed, feel like ****
know you'll do it all again tomorrow
push back thoughts of the "one step solution"
that would only cause my loved ones problems

fall asleep late, wake up early
make that daily morning decision
will you lay in bed and mope around
or face this day with optimism

get up, take your meds
climb up to the top of the mountain
struggle to survive the inevitable fall
your depression sends you tumbling

down
            down
                          down

boom crash
you've hit the ground.
time to do it all again.
keep your hopes up high

The smaller your world the more miserable you become

My hands grip the wheel tightly
Complete sobriety
My eyes are on the road
Yet I have no control of the vehicle
I swerve and wreck into building after building.
The buildings sustain no damage.
I hit and bounce off, into the next structure
Over and over
I resist out of fear but I can't put my foot on the brake
The water is approaching
Nothing stops me from plunging in,
My car sinking with me trapped inside
My only thought being that everyone's going to be so mad at me

Evening
Music
Laughter
Grass between my toes

precious moments
Fleeting

I never knew I'd miss you so

I imagine it would be like the silence after you turn off the music

my brain feels like unsalted scrambled eggs

It's like having boulders tied to your ankles
a voice constantly telling you that you're not strong enough
That going the distance won't even be worth it in the end

Please

My empathy is making me sick but
What he's screaming at her is true...
It's hurtful. Mean.
But true.
I hate myself for agreeing,
I hate him for saying it.

I'm being pushed and pulled
Not sure how to feel.
What's right?
What's wrong?
How am I supposed to deal?

"I feel like I shouldn't even be breathing around here" she says

I always knew I was like her

It'd be easier to just float away

One becomes four
Four becomes one,
Then one on one,
One on air
One on one...
on one.. on one

Won't be long till one becomes nothing

Two cups of coffee and suddenly the answers are all clear to me