"Mental Illness"
Do those words excite you?
Look at me
I am a whirlpool of melancholy
I am a drain
I am filled with mania
I am a pulse
An endless flame
Of what perfect madness
I am every kind of fluctuation imaginable
"Mental Illness"
But I am so intimately rearranged
Put together in the most unique
And beautiful
And miserable of ways

"Mental Illness"
Ha,
*I am so much more than that.

I know from experience how destructive it is to harbor something deep inside and bury it deeper and deeper until it's beneath the surface and doesn't feel like a real thing anymore. To make every effort to no longer acknowledge its presence and it's reality.

I also know from experience that this process is always extremely painful and detrimental to not only yourself but any other people involved, especially in the long run. It doesn't result in steps forward but a million steps back. It is not a progressive process and it should be avoided at every cost.

This doesn't mean that it is easy to do so. Especially when it hurts as much as it does. With all of those insanely strong emotions and reactions and feelings and thoughts attached to all of that pain, feeling as if they will never wither away and die. "Bury the pain, forget about it, don't acknowledge or nurture it, it will eventually go away and never come back!"

Just because you buried it doesn't mean its roots aren't still very much present.

Grow your pain. Nurture it. Begin the healing process. Turn it in to something that is good and positive. Recognize the lesson and reason behind it. Look at it as a chance to do better and to be better. Build it up until its presence begins to matter and become a defining aspect of who you are. This manifested pain will become something good and beautiful and more powerful and stronger than anything you could ever imagine. Instead of burying it and making it disappear, I urge you to fill yourself full until you are busting at the seams.

**That is the goal.

Sometimes people get
Inside of my head and
I can't get them out
They write beautiful things
Inside of my head and
I fall in love with them

Sometimes I dream of scratching and digging viciously at his skin
As if I am trying to take back what I lost inside of him
What he tore away from me without my permission

Four years later and
I still cringe

He was so many firsts
First boyfriend
First 4 hour phone call
First person to see me naked
Undeniably bare and fresh and perfect
My body like an untouched lump of clay
Waiting for his hands to twist, mold, and taint it
First relationship
First time my body was a scale
He was so much weight

He never stopped
Especially after he would hear me utter “no”
He took away so much of me

Compromise was turning off the lights
Shutting my eyes as tight as they could go
Until it was all over
And I could breathe again

What was it that coerced him to finger me under the blanket in front of my siblings?
What was it that compelled him to ignore all of the no's?
What was it that drove him to take me upstairs to my bed while my own grandmother was just a room away and ****** himself inside of me without my consent?
What was it that made his hands cause every single centimeter of my skin to flinch?
Will I ever be forgiven for the sins I did not commit, but unintentionally created?

After it happened
My sanity seemed to be a balancing act
I felt like an old, empty museum
An eviscerated monument
Something that used to hold so much worth
Something that was now meaningless
Futile
And
Disgusting


Shortly after, denial surfaced
It took over and replaced my name
Every single minute of every single day
I was telling myself over and over and over
That it never happened
All in an attempt to make it go away
Doing everything I could to prevent myself
From ever admitting it
Doing everything in my will to forget
But failing so miserably

I called it an armed robbery
As if he could bust through my chest
Tear open my ribs
And steal everything that made my heart dance
And then nail its wings to his filthy trophy wall

For a long time after 
I was careless
A fallen angel
Looking for love
In the same way in which I lost it
Looking for love
In the same way in which I got to know pain and hurt intimately
It was a continuous game of innocence being lost

I was a lost and forgotten treasure
Living in a garden of destruction
Scared and ****** up and doing everything that I thought I needed
Thirsting for all of the medicine that I thought they had

I was stuck in the greatest darkness of my life
As I tried to convince myself that the men I met along the journey
Were my only light
I couldn't help but to seek safety in other people
For it was in another person that I lost all sense of my own security

I was someone who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone
There was constant bloodshed in my head and in my heart

So I did the things I did hoping I could make it all rewind
Go back to the very first day when I wasn't strong enough to get up and leave
After all of my thousands of insistent no's were intentionally ignored and thrown aside

I was disgusted with myself
Constantly putting myself down
Tearing myself apart
From the inside out and the outside in

Most days I would feel ***** (somedays I still do)
Contaminated
Defiled
Repulsive

It was hard to keep praying to someone who had me on hold
When all I wanted was for someone to hold me
Or at the least,
Something to hold on to

I think back and can't help but recall
How difficult it was to breathe in public

I felt hardened
I wanted someone to tell me that it wasn't my fault
To remind me that life is suffering
And existing is a coincidence
And that I am only a witness to half of it

I suppose that intimacy is the art of licking wounds
Because it has taken me years to let anyone kiss me
with my lips chapped
and my body tense
my eyes flitting
and my heart hiding

Four years later and
I still cringe

My father is always talking about how strong I am
He is so proud of my resilience that it sometimes makes me uneasy
He loves to brag about me to other people
Saying that I am capable of anything and everything
All because of everything I have been through and all that I have overcome

But the thing is
He doesn't even know half of it
He has no idea about what happened four years ago
About what continued to happen after that day

Now that time has passed
And I have finally healed (somewhat)
There's no denying that a part of me
Will always ache and burn because of this
But I have realized that
I am not the one who is broken
He is,
The monster who did this to me

And nothing has been stolen from me
Because my body is not a castoff
And there is nothing that sits inside of me
Bearing my worth

There is no trinket that can be seen
Touched
Or taken
****** from my stomach
Only to be left somewhere on the concrete
Or buried deep within a dumpster
And lost forever

Yes, something was seized from me
That I will never get back
But I refuse to watch myself collapse

I have heard that one in three women will be
*****
Or sexually abused
In their lifetime

Well,
I am one of three daughters

Four years later and
*I still cringe

I feel crazy in ways that make me question the "correct" way to put on a toilet paper roll

Does the ply come over and around the top,
Or under and out the bottom?

When I was a young girl, I use to switch the rolls to where the ply came from the bottom because I thought it was "easier" that way.

Now I think it looks "nicer" when it's the other way, though.

I keep thinking about how bad my anxiety gets when I am riding in a car and someone else is driving.

(This obviously has a lot to do with the fact that I have lost far too many amazing and incredible and beautiful people to freak car accidents)

But I think it also has to do with the feeling of not being in control.
I think that aspect plays a great role in feeding in to that constant edge of fear...

On the edge of my seat,
Cringing due to the fact of knowing that at any minute, there is a real possibility that we could get into a terrible crash and die.

Cars **** people every single day, you know.
And usually young people.
(At least it always seems that way).

But part of my thought process revolves around me realizing that every single one of these people is loved deeply by at least one other person (living or dead).

I don't think it's the dying part that scares me so much,
But knowing how many people whom I love more than life who would be so dreadfully hurt, and in so much pain, if I were to ever die suddenly and unexpectedly in some horrible and unfortunate accident.

That's what really scares me…
Hurting the people I love.

I've felt that pain.
I know that hurt deeply.
And never would I ever wish it upon a person,
(No matter how much I might possibly despise them).

I think that I get so upset when people drive recklessly (even just a little bit) because (to me) they don't realize how ******* fragile everything is...

(Fragile; I've always like that word)

Don't people see how fragile it all is? How fragile and finite the life of a loved one is? How fragile and finite all life is in general?

I'm scared to death riding in cars with people
(More scared than I've ever been)
And I've been thinking a lot about it.

*One week into it and November has been "fragile" so far.

earlier in the night you said to me, "it's as if our bodies fit together perfectly... i can't understand it"

now
as i melt perfectly into your embrace
my body pressed and formed perfectly into yours
you say
sounding as if you feel refreshed or relieved or maybe just utterly content
"ah, a perfect mold"
and then chuckle quietly

you close your eyes as a look of the most complete and pure happiness
covers your soft and loving face and contains your entire body
and my entire body
and the lovely combination of both of our bodies
fitting together so perfectly

i hate sounding cliché
but i don't know how else to go about saying you complete me

you complete me, darling
you complete me

Humanity is
Promised suffering
Infinite and delicate roots
Bleed timeless torment
And misery

I remember how I used to love to hurt
To hurt myself and to hurt others
Not to purposefully hurt others
To hurt myself
Maybe to hurt others by hurting myself

The truth of the matter is,
I was attracted to any form of hurting

But my ways have changed
And I am healed up, more mature

There's no need for that anymore

I could tell you what I think
But most don't care to listen
I try not to waste my time on people like that
Because why would I?
There are people who will literally **** all of the energy out of you
Treating you like a sponge when you are really a sun
There's no remedy for people like this
And they're everywhere
Hidden predators in a pasture full of succulent prey
Which way did they come from?
We may never know.

I am a bright and burning sun and I radiate positive energy from my core
It extends millions of miles outside of me
I am desirable in that aspect
Fueling the thirst of treacherous thieves who can't survive without me
I am precious in that aspect
And you'd think they'd treat me as so
But greed is greed, a viscious and disgusting monster which only continuously grows stronger
And I cannot save them.

I know what it's like to be brave enough to offer your whole self to the world
Glistening energy and all
Only to have it tarnished and chased after by those whose only desire is to take and to take

I am too much in the same way that I am never enough.

I am always getting taken from.
But I do not cry because I am like this
I am whole and perfect and special no matter how much they try to take from me
For I am constantly filling back up
And burning ever brighter.  

I cry for those who aren't a sun,
But a thunderous black hole.
How they must suffer.
I cry for them because that is the only thing left to do
And at least they won't try to consume these tears of mine too
But yet, I hope to water them as so...
Thinking that maybe, someday, they might bloom into a flower, which eventually transforms into a sun.

But I am a dreamer.
And what's done is done.

By: Evynne Doue

No matter what I say or do, the road leads back to you

So you sit there and you realize you can't focus on anything
But you still sit there and you try
All you're good for these days is thinking and getting your rebellious *** into trouble
Thinking?
Yeah, I think that's the right word for it
You sit and you try to decide if you've changed
And then you think, if you have changed, is it good or is it bad?
And what has changed anyways?
And then it's gone
Because you don't care
You don't care about one single thing and almost anyone who knows you, knows that
That single aspect of you is the most obvious of your persona
How does that make you feel?
It's the truth and you know it so you leave it alone
You leave everything alone that has to do with yourself
You hate acknowledging the fact that you're human like everyone else
But you still find yourself asking
Why feel?
Why live?
Why die?
Why think?
Why?

And then you frequently find yourself wanting to give up
And you want to, so ******* bad but something keeps you holding on
The one person who you allow to let you feel because you can't help it
Even with your ******, stubborn wall up, he still breaks through and gets to you and then all the feeling is just there
It wasn't there before you saw him
But the second you come into his presence, you feel alive again
And it's frustrating because that same person who keeps you holding on and feeling, is the same person who makes you want to give up and stop feeling all together
I don't blame you because of the way you feel when you're with him
He's got you wrapped around his finger and you follow him around like a scared, little puppy
And you can never tell if he feels the same and you can never seem to figure him out
It's a frightening cycle

No wonder you don't want to feel
But no wonder you do
It's also sad to think that just by this person coming up and putting his arm around you is the one reassurance that shows he might care
And is the one thing that brings you back up and tells you not to give up just yet

So I see you shaking on the edge in fear and confusion
But I can see your reasoning because when your chest swells up when you feel him close
And when you almost give up but find yourself ****** back in, you seem okay
And you seem happy in a weird, lost, kind of way
So I guess things are okay for you
I guess this is how it is
But it's also like, I don't know why you're still waiting…

When I was young, my life was like music that was always getting louder
Everything moved me
A mother with her child
That made me feel so much
A homeless person sitting on the sidewalk holding out a ***** cup for some spare change
I could have cried over it
I did
A calendar that displayed the wrong month
The way the moon followed me everywhere I went
How an unmade bed looked like home
Where the smoke coming from the house across the street disappeared into the sky
Frost on the window of my mother's car
How the earth tirelessly orbited around the sun
The way the city lights looked from afar
I have spent my entire life learning to feel less
Every single day I feel less
Is that growing old?
Or something worse?
I suppose you cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness
But how do you balance yourself between the two without forgetting how to feel altogether?

We were driving in my car
It was dark
And the rain was drizzling down
Painting colorful silhouettes
Of street lights
All over the pavement

Red
Green
Orange
Green
Orange
Green
Red

All of these colors racing towards us
Illuminating a path all the way up,
As far ahead as our eyes could see

And you said something like,
The reflections
Make it seem like we are about to fall in
Crash down into a lightless void
Deep below
But we just keep driving
And then there it is in front of us again
And again, we do not fall in
We just keep going
We keep going
And we keep on going

*It's all we can do

I long to know the place in you
No one else has ever seen
Deeply and intimately

I long to reside in the secret place of your heart
The room no one else will ever be able find
Quietly and passionately

I long to possess every part of you
So I can love you in your entirety
Every single thing you loathe about yourself
Every single piece you hide away for safe keeping
Every single particle of you and your whole existence
Tirelessly and completely

I long to love you
and love you
*and love you

kiss the loneliness your heart feels
the forever pain
that is really not forever
it’s okay
if you used to love a bed
a home
that isn’t there anymore
it’s okay
to feel small  
it’s okay
to hate yourself
the longing you feel
needs a smile
and your kisses
will make you realize
the different existences
that were once a broken home
sad and hurt
are not just an innocent human
a soul full of wonder
a moment moving slowly
that leaves your arms
not so lonely
anymore

it is better to forget the lonely
to stop holding the form’s presence
in sadness
in a hope that seems to be constantly
far from the surface
but comes in
tasting like water
instead of blood
looking like a lovely warmth
and perfection
that can only be found through tears
and a certain touch
aching fingers
outside the breadth of the home
reaching closer
to a new, sure death
changing into kind, sweet branches
that quietly beckon stronger reasons
for living
and finally
your bones will believe
that they exist to be soft
under their flesh
and that dreams are able to actually
exist outside of despair
outside of rain
and outside of fear and blood

"Why are you so irresistible to me?"
"Why are YOU so irresistible to ME?

Love is a funny thing
And being in love is an even funnier thing

We are young
And full of love
And completely in love
Not just with each other
But with each and every moment we spend together
Every single memory of us that we possess
In every crease and crevice of our minds
Every single kiss
Every single embrace
All of it*
We are full of love
And we are young
And we are completely in love

Do you know what it is like to make love almost every single day?
Sometimes even twice a day at that
Do you know what it feels like saying goodbye to someone so passionately it makes your knees weak?
Like it will be the last time you will ever see them again
Even though you saw them yesterday and will probably even see them later
If not then, than definitely tomorrow

Do you see how funny of a thing this all is?
I am making light of it
But it is pretty serious
I mean
Not to me
But to him
Because he is a man
And saw love fail terribly as a small child

So this love thing is a very serious matter
But not to me
That is why I say it is such a funny thing

My irises are a force of continuum
Pulling you closer and closer
Until you're drunk off my mesmerization
Like a love spell, but it's real

How much I craved
Experience
When I was a child
Almost broke me
(It did to some extent)
How I craved
To be full
Emptiness invaded me
Much too
Young

At six,
Determined
Driven
By this looming
Emptiness
To teach myself
How to ride
A bike
Not allowing myself
To give up
Until I had accomplished
That goal

“Maybe he will be
Proud of me
And tell me.
Maybe he won’t
Sit in there
All alone
(Without me)
Anymore.”

Dad,
You never
Taught me
To ride a bike
Like you were
Supposed to
But maybe
You were teaching me
Something else

Maybe that’s why
I taught
My younger sister and brother
To ride a bike

Maybe that’s why
I taught
My youngest sister
To walk
And she took her
First steps
To me
In your mother’s kitchen

Maybe that’s why
I was so
Determined
Driven
To give them
Something
I never got
But always
Felt

Maybe that’s why
I was so
Determined
Driven
To prevent that
Emptiness
From contaminating
Them
Much too
Young

Maybe
You taught me
Strength
Instead of
Skill

Maybe
You created
That irrefutable
Initiative
That still
Drives me
To this day

I owe my
Resilience
To you
And your
Absence
And me
And my
Emptiness

I forgive you
I forgive you
*I forgive
You

My head was rested on your chest
Your fingers intertwined in mine
Everything seemed normal again
But we were far from it
You weren't mine and I wasn't yours
We talked for hours
It was so hard to be that close to you but still know
That I did not have you
I wanted you to be mine again
I wanted the world to make sense again

You knew it would be my last moment there
You walked me out and kissed me goodbye
I didn't want to believe that this was going to be my
Last time kissing you
I got in my car and drove away
I drove away for the last time

Enticing tongues
Craving senses
Of un-daunting caresses
Trying to get rid
Of the bitter taste
In their throats

Unexpected paths
Of countless processes
Never resulting
In accomplishment
Though never fully lacking
In satisfaction

Look at me!
I am an emotional bag of ****
I don't ever want to be without you
You came to me so suddenly
But I feel like I have loved you forever

Being told you are beautiful
Is one thing
But being told you are beautiful
And believing it
Is another

I have been called beautiful
More times than there are freckles on my face
(And that is a lot)
But not until recent
Did I ever believe it

Usually I would brush it off
And see it as an empty compliment
Or a conversation filler
Or a device used for personal gain
Any time someone would tell me I was beautiful
I wouldn't believe it
Not even a little bit
And that's the way it was for a very long time

I was too used to people leaving
Especially after I let them get close to me
And touch me
I was too used to being let down
I couldn't trust anyone but myself
And I didn't think I was beautiful
With or without anyone's truthful or deceiving opinion
I truly thought I was the farthest from beautiful

Usually when people would give me such a compliment
I would say
"No, I'm not
And you don't mean that"
Most didn't bother to argue
So I never once believed it
Until I heard you say it

At first I tried to do what I always did
But you wouldn't take no for an answer

I'm not sure if it's the way you say it
Or how many times a day you say it
Or just the fact that I trust you enough
But I really do believe you
When you tell me I'm beautiful
Hearing the words, "You are so beautiful, Evynne"
And feeling the honesty and passion pierce my heart
Is something I have never experienced before

I may not think I am as beautiful as you like to tell me I am
But at least I believe it
And when I say I believe it
I do not mean I agree
But rather, you tell me I am beautiful
And I think to myself, "You really do make me feel beautiful"
Regardless of any prior opinions I held of myself

Now that is a very powerful thing

Is there no ounce of passion left within me?
Was it accidentally drained out of me when all of the emptiness was unmistakably filled up?
I don't feel it as deeply and as excruciatingly as I did before
I almost don't feel it at all
It feels absent
Lacking
W  a  n  i  n  g

During the days of the horrid drought
When the pain and the loneliness were so
Heavy, endless, and dry
It was my passion alone that kept me holding on
It was the only thing that forced me to keep living
The one and only good thing that was static in my life

I don't feel that anymore
All I feel is apathy
******* apathy

Was I stronger then,
Than I am now?
Or is it the contrary?

I feel less fragile, less breakable
There's no more sign taped blatantly to my forehead
Screaming, "VERY FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE"
And there's no more drought

But did the passion get lost along with all of the emptiness?
How do I know?
Where is it hidden?
*And where can I find it again?

Sometimes I look in the mirror
And have no idea who or what I am looking at
So I stare and stare and stare
Then I disappear all together
And I see nothing
And I see no one

"Not I," she whispered.

No concern
No meaning
No feeling
Deprivation at its finest.

I don't think about things the same way others do;
Actually,
I don't think about the same things everyone else does.
There are things that fill my mind on a daily basis that I guarantee do not ever cross any normal human being's mind.
Notice how I said normal,
It really makes me think, am I the one that's crazy, or are they?
What is normal?
If normal is being like everybody else, than that is not I.
"Not I," said the Queen
Not I.
Normal, ordinary, average, common, typical, general, normal.
"Not I," said she.
Not I
"I blame my loneliness on my abnormality"
A valid excuse is all I'm looking for.
I don't need an answer...
Because when am I ever in the possession of answers?
Not ever.
Just questions upon questions upon questions and contradictions upon that of which fill in the crevices of my mind.
I think of one solid thing and the next solid thing contradicts it.
Do you see what I attempt to control everyday?
Mental processes.
Severely intricate, contradicting, insane, mental processes
That race through my stream of consciousness with no intent of slowing down.
Colorful winds that whisper things softly to me
Like the constant pitter patter of falling raindrops on an idle afternoon.
Will I ever be at peace with these contents inside my head?
I am not quite sure.
But what I am sure of is that I would be lost if it all stopped, ceased to exist.
So for now, I am thankful.
Even though I keep feeling more and more crazy every single day.
Madness doesn't necessarily have to be a dire thing.
Normal?
"Not I," said the Queen
Not I.

I've been doing a lot of reflecting lately.
You are constantly showing up in my mind.
When I look at myself right now and who I am becoming again,
I think of you and every good thing about you
And every good thing you bring out in me.

I was lucky to have a man like you.
No one compares,
No one else exists.
Just you.