There’s a band in the center of my chest There’s a wailing guitar solo wavering in wheezing lungs The bass pedal kicks to start a stagnant heart Chords of keys claim keening insides There’s a song playing in my organs that keeps me up at night Come hold me tight and pacify me of the perpetual plague This persistent expression of pain playing in my chest Vivisect my veins and see volumes of viscous music spill into the air And then you’ll hear the howls I hear in the empty night When I cry alone
i type distantly like the hands that hold my phone are alien appendages attached to a body from a different space and a different time
but it is 1:13am now and i am rooted here in the physical world my atoms buzzing and humming dancing through the atmosphere confined to this vessel of meat and bones that i have no choice but to animate
i am here condemning this physical form to the four corners of my room i switch between writing to an operator for a crisis text line and spilling my insides onto the lines i write here
this is how i spend my nights
it is 1:39am now i canceled the text service because i am tired and i don’t find solace in condescending impersonal advice
believe it or not i am a self-aware human being and after six years of making myself bleed it actually has occurred to me that i could find a hobby or snap a rubber band on my shaking wrists and i have tried whatever unfulfilling underwhelming trick you have to offer
your intentions are always good dear operators but ******* your ignorance is astoundingly counterproductive
it is 1:56am and i feel just as alone as before but just a little more frustrated and closer to sleep than when I started
I found this while looking through my notes. It was written in May.
Twinkling in and out of sight The stars hanging in silent air Holding my breath and waiting For what I don’t know Something impending Something that binds my chest Flat into my lungs Crushing the breath out And siphoning small gasps in
Twinkling in and out of sight Lights dance around the corners of eyes And tear ducts water inklings of Something impending
I like being wrapped in blankets And hiding in small spaces I think it makes me feel more secure
I trash my living spaces and fill them up It’s like the presence of empty space Represents the uncertainty in my life So I eliminate any openness To ensure that anxiety can’t hide Behind furniture or under the bed
I occupy my space with a protective layer Of garbage and disorganization
It’s not on purpose
I don’t like it
The clutter of my room or my car Often reflects the clutter in my mind
I wrote a poem one day That made my blood feel hot in my veins So I tore at my skin like a scratch ticket Until I won my liquid red prize I smeared it on the page And looked at what I did with tears in my eyes I hid it for months but couldn’t stop being afraid So I biked over to the neighborhood lake And I threw the diary I bled in As far as a could into the water But my blood never stopped growing hotter
I clawed and gouged all of my limbs Trying to bleed my way out of my skin I didn’t know what I was doing But I knew it must be hid Because before the diary was thrown I remembered that poem I took the tip of the sharpest pencil And tried to carve it one letter a day Into my arm I started to keep my sleeves down And fear set in So I took that same pencil And scratched it out of my skin
People started to notice then And ask what happened to my arm So I learned to make excuses And better hide my self harm
Back then I was twelve I read two to three books a day But nothing and nobody I knew about Made what I did make sense I didn’t know why I did it I just knew I had to And now I hate to look back It just makes me sad to
Innocent baby girl Marring sweet young skin It took seconds to do it But years until the gravity set in I still wouldn’t take it back Despite all the countless scars Because it all leads to the fact That I am who I am now Because of what I did then
Cigarette lungs And poisoned guts I have a rotten brain Riddled with curdled spots
I ****** down fistfuls Of pills from six separate bottles I can’t nurture any self love But I find loathing inside to cradle and coddle
Scarred skin And rampant decay I am an animated corpse A macabre, dancing display
In the ICU for three days Tachycardia and shakes Jellied my legs into Disobedient writhing snakes
Cobweb chest And festering heart I pucker and ooze Sickly sour and ****
Hospital hallucinations On the sink sat a friendly bird It shifted from form to form Singing beautiful songs no one else heard
I tried to **** myself by overdosing on various medications December 28th. I haven’t been able to write anything worthwhile since, but I still wanted to share something anyway since I’ve been away at the hospital for so long. It feels good to be out and to be making progress. I will keep writing until I can create something of value again. Thank you all for your unconditional support and patience. I appreciate this outlet endlessly.
Popping prescriptions Every morning I open my eyes And see that I’m still here Hoping something will change With each tablet and capsule Swallowed down into my guts Swimming around in stomach acid Dissolving into my bloodstream Trying to slap a bandaid On my broken biology
I thought I’d be dead by now, But my organs are rebellious— They thrive and throb and thrash around. Even if I hold my breath until I pass out, My lungs will eventually force air in Through my gasping mouth.
Inside my head Is my cluttered childhood bedroom Clothes swallowing the bubbled, water damaged floor Mold creeping down the walls Dripping from the ceiling
If I try to open the door The moment I touch the **** The lights turn off And the door vanishes There’s no way out I cannot leave
Inside my head I’m sitting on my childhood bed My knees tucked up to my chest Hoping if I can curl up small enough I might be able to shrink into nothing And just ******* disappear
If my eyes look vacant It’s because I’m not there I’m stuck in that tiny room Rocking back and forth Banging my fists against the walls Until I’m resigned and sore
The first stanza when I describe my room isn’t an exaggeration. I spent my formative childhood years living in a mobile home. When it rained water would leak into my room and stain my walls with water damage and soak my bed. The floors really did bubble up with mold.
That was when I first started to feel trapped and it still hasn’t gone away. I might as well still be stuck there.
I want to die Every day Of my life But every time I get close Every time I starve myself Until I drop To the ground Buzzing tingles In my fingers and toes Every time I stay up All night For days On end Every time I drive somewhere Private enough To die alone And still be found Before my body Gets gross Every time I take enough Adderall To make my heart Beat so hard Against my chest That it hurts To breathe I get too scared To pull the trigger And down the pills And tie the noose And slash my wrists I’m so afraid to die But I’ve wished for it My whole life I don’t have a place Where I belong alive But I think for sure That there’s no afterlife Where I’ll belong either I’ll just be a number In a study If I ever work up the guts To just ******* end it all Maybe that’s My place
This is a LIGHT ORANGE, ROUND-shaped TABLET Imprinted with U30 on the front
This is a HEADACHE When the LIGHTS are too BRIGHT For your dilated PUPILS
This is an EMPTY STOMACH Growling and ignored Shrinking and shriveling Under the pressure of a medicated FIST Squeezing it TIGHT
This is a clenched JAW Crushing TEETH into jagged SHARDS TENSION worming its way Through every FIBER and SINEW
This is a METICULOUS AGENDA Planning every PRECIOUS MINUTE Waiting anxiously to fix Everything that hasn’t gone WRONG yet But possibly will It is a RELENTLESS VIGIL Standing in FRONT of a CLOCK Counting down the seconds Until it all comes crashing DOWN
This is AMPHETAMINE SALTS Common brand(s): Adderall
Looking around me trying to see What I can do to succeed But all I find is a dark void And all I hear are the sounds of flies A buzzing, irritating white noise I guess it all looks the same beneath shut eyes
I fell out of love with living. I can’t remember what loving her felt like. “We have good times,” I tell myself, “times I’m grateful for her and times I hold her tight.” But mostly we’re distant. We disagree on a lot. She wants me to eat and to keep my blood in my veins. I love you dear, but this body is mine to ruin not yours to save.
I feel this way strongly some days, but won’t ever give in to it. I will try my best to be thankful for each day I am lucky enough to live and learn to love life at my own pace.
I can’t remember the last time I felt like I had a home
I hide in my room And that is my house
I stow myself away Like stashed contraband
I am not meant To see the light of day
I am a ***** secret I am the black sheep
Even my own mother Doesn’t have faith in me
I’ve heard it directly Straight from her mouth
I see it intangibly In her furrowed brow
I don’t have a place Where I feel familiar
I stand on the outside Of every circle
I used to wonder What I was doing wrong
But I think that I know That it’s just who I am
I am not meant To have a place
I own nothing of worth I have no land
I sabotage my life I throw away my efforts
For the chance to lay in bed For a couple more hours
I am an observer Watching the race
I see people running Fast and hard
Toward the life they want And the happiness they deserve
But I’m on the bleachers Sitting and wasting
All of my energy All of my time
I don’t do much work But I still whine
“I have no money” “I have no job”
But there’s nobody to blame Except myself Everything Boils down To being My fault
But I don’t want pity Especially not from myself
So I trade it in for self-loathing And devalue my health
I don’t eat some days But some days I binge
Some days I puke But others I hold it in
“Do you want to change?” Even my therapist knows
That I’ve settled for misery That I’m destined for woe
I shut my eyes And live in the dark
Because when I open them All I see
Is the mess I made That binds and traps me
I give up It’s just what I do
It’s the only thing I’m good at Causing this distress I put myself through
I hold myself responsible I don’t point the finger of blame
Except in the mirror This is a personal shame
Definitely not a good poem. Very whiny. I refuse to settle for a ****** existence, but I do feel like this a lot. It’s just negative thoughts and self-doubt. I’m learning to ignore it, but they’re very persistent. I know it will get better with time and practice.
Do me a favor And either forget About me and let Me go so I don’t Suffer anymore Or punch me in The ******* mouth And help me Actualize the Intangible pain Inside. Either Let me hurt Or let me die Because I’ve Given up on Anything in Between.
I don’t see My mom very much Anymore Because when I do She hurts me
Today I saw my mom And she told me That she was so certain I was going to **** myself That she already Has said goodbye And let me go
That’s why I don’t live With my family
This isn’t figurative or hyperbolic whatsoever. My mom literally just screamed at me for about thirty minutes after not seeing her for weeks, and told me that I was going to die young and **** myself because she can’t see me heading in any other direction.
I’m in my first year of community college this year, and I haven’t lived with my family since my junior year of high school. I work so hard to make progress and feel better, and every time I see my mom she just tears me the **** down. I love her so much and it hurts me so bad. I’m done trying to make her happy.
I know this is far from a quality piece of writing, but I’m just very upset and I’m ready to shut down. I stop talking when things like this happen, and whatever little communication I muster usually happens through writing. Thanks for reading and taking the time to consider and value my thoughts. I really appreciate it more than you know.
I am a tuneless maraca Shake me up and listen To the sound of medication Rapping up against my Intestinal lining
Dance to the song My stomach is writing Hear the notes smeared Together and move your Body in rhythm with my Convulsing
Foaming at the mouth White bubbles of poison Dripping down blue cheeks My eyes roll back in my Head and see stars erupting A firework show just for me Frying up my burning brain
When I die I don’t Want to be asleep I want to feel every last Bit of oxygen Squeezed out of me I want to watch my life slip away in a hazy fever dream
Pills rattle down my throat And you’re not here to see it But I’m laying on the ground Choking on my ***** I didn’t say goodbye Because it would just Make everybody sad But know that this is The happiest moment I’ve had
CONTENT WARNING: Strong suicidal ideation
I promise I’m okay, I’m just struggling while I’m off my meds for now. I’m in between psychiatrists and I’ll get them soon enough. I am safe.
I feel like there’s a cloud in my head A fog hanging around my brain The synaptic gaps between my neurons Are broken spaces filled with mist This cranium is heavy and weighted With a darkness and a shadow That ***** away the light I need to see
I am blinded in this murky abyss Shine a light on me and nothing reflects
I am a bottomless pit Filled with cotton drenched In syrupy ink that bleeds from The walls The walls The walls Containing me Are slippery Greased walls It is dank and wet My lungs are stuffy And my chest feels Full to the point Of bursting I cannot climb These walls