Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Before my mum died, I never really took naps.

Couldn’t really understand it,
there was so much else you could do.

But then she died,
and it was just before midday
and I realised -
there’s so much day left.

It stretched on and on in front of me,
hours and hours of this same day,
still waiting.

So I went upstairs,
I told the people that needed to know,
and I went away for a while.

I woke back up in time for an evening meal
with an extended family filled with love
and a sister returned from work
and a phone beeped full of support.

And it’s been two years,
and the days stretch on
and still, almost every day now, I go away for a wee while.
Skip just a little bit,
every day.

I wonder if I should stop
Would my mum approve?
Probably not.

Maybe I’ll try tomorrow,
but still,
it’s late in the evening now.
Time to go to sleep,
Goodnight
I think I am allergic to
These old photos of me and you
My eyes water; I sniffle, too.
Throat is scratchy, heart aches for you.
I wonder if there's a remedy
For this pollenated memory
Allergic to it, I must be-
Your image makes a mess of me.
For my moms... all three of the women that filled the role.
Submissive

Peel me raw with your voice
Undress my mind with your wit
Scrape my bones with your laughter
******* blood, so I submit

Pluck out my heart with your soul
Rip through my spine with your mind
Extract my juice with your desperate eyes
Make me love you till my eyes go blind
What is it about me that makes me so undesirable?
Is it the way I laugh,
The way I cry?
The way I often pray to die?
Is it how often I break down,
How often I need to be picked back up?
Is it the way I tell myself I'm okay,
Then rejection is a smack in the face
Tainting my beauty and (lack of) grace
Until I decide to leave without a trace?
Or is it my horrible need for sympathy
The way you tend to always look at me
And shake your head and roll your eyes
The very things that I despise?
Then again, I love to think
I wouldn't be the last chosen on earth
And that there's are girls that could be worse
But this doesn't matter.
It will never come down to a pick and choose
I'll never get the chance to win or lose
I've already lost.
But at what cost?
I've renounced confidence altogether
And I've taught myself to know better
But I never do.
I never learn.

So I sit back
And I allow myself to think
I'll never be loved
I'll never be loved.
You say my words are too deep
But only because yours were too shallow to make me float
If i told you i needed help
would you listen?
Or would your silence
Echo off the walls.
See my life is like a car,
Sometimes moving fast
And other times so **** slow.
If i told you i feel hurt inside
would you not just hear
but listen
to what i said
I need someone to care.
Im tired of trying to fight alone.
Im tired of trying to survive at a table for one.
If i told you
I cry all over my body
And each tear is a knife
And they are leaving scars on my flesh,
Would you cut me a bandage,
Sop up my blood,
Or leave me to bleed out.
If i told you
I was alone and my demons are taunting me
would you get me out
Or would you keep walking
or keep scrolling...
Im not begging for attention,
But one cannot be expected to be alone and silent like a life long detention.
If i told you
I was ready to confess everything
Come clean from my secrets,
Strip myself naked so you could see my imperfections
would you care even the slightest bit
Or are you so selfish
And so ignorant
To walk on
And leave this person to die.
If i told you i was ready to die
would you blame it in cliche,
Or believe it and save me from damnation

Its time to think.
It could be up to you
This isnt just my world,
Its yours, too
and dont you want to be
somebody
To someone?
I need you.
Because all of these "if i told you's
Are becoming
**im telling you
Help people. Dont leave them alone. Provide help. Depression is very real, and it is all around us. Repost if this means something to YOU
If you burn a flower,
it happens slowly. (to you)
It may be astonishing
to watch and smell and feel,
but just look at what you've done
to the flower...
There are traces left;
the scent lingers,
but that flower will never be the same.
The colors are no longer vibrant.
The flower becomes stale and dried out.
It becomes so frail
that touching it
could wither the rest
of what is left behind.
The worst part is that
you have never been,
could never be a flower.
You don't know what it is
to be a flower, you don't know
what it feels like when it is burning.
You blindly take action against nature
not fearing the consequence.
Nature is there for you,
nature takes care of you.
Look at what you have done
to this beautiful flower that you
once held so dear?
Foolish little boy;
once you stop caring for your planet,
the planet no longer takes an interest in you.
It no longer respects you,
feels the need to protect and nurture you.
You have taken this flower,
this gift of the universe and damaged it.
When the rain stops falling and the gardens
cease growth, don't curse the skies and the soil.
Return to the empty flower-bed where you
found that brilliant flower standing,
firmly rooted in the earth and extending up
to you awaiting it's water and food.
Feeding you it's beloved oxygen.
That flower is gone,
it has moved on to a new life,
with new purpose.
Once you waste something away,
you cannot get it back.
The lesson is hard to learn,
but none the less, you have learned it.
It is a  s h a m e ,
the earth loses flowers every day
for little boys to learn big lessons.
**kd
Next page