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Madeline Jun 2019
no matter how much i sleep, rest, or nap i'm exhausted
i've taken to yawning in my favorite class.

no matter how easy i take it, my body still aches when i move
it's frankly rather disquieting.

no matter how much i clear out of my head, i'm still hurting
letting go of difficult situations is hard.

no matter how ahead i get, i'm still stressed for the next thing
the rapidity of life is eating away at me.

no matter how kind i am to those around me, i still know shame
impulsivity of emotion is a thinker's nightmare.

no matter how much faith i have, i still feel uncertain
my god is for me, but it feels like life is against me.

no matter how mature i am, i am still undercut by those older than me
focusing on the positive is not going to be theraputic right now.

no matter how much control i have, i'm still shackled to my anxiety
i cannot just "calm down" to ease your or my own conscience.

no matter how many decisions i make, there is still much left undone
slowing down is a luxury, one i take guiltily and not without consequence.

no matter how much i improve, i'm still bound to expectation of perfection
humanity is not perfect, and neither am i, broken and inadequate, but we try, oh we try.

no matter how much joy is in my life, i still feel the crushing weight of depression.
i said i was doing better

no matter how much i am validated by my loved ones, i still hurt myself
my eating disorder has infected my system completely, down to my bones.

no matter how many breaks i take i'm still being driven into the ground
crying because of household tasks is pathetic.

no matter how much i try to pretend life is not stressful,  it's
digging itself into my heart and soul.

i am not okay, and those who know it are trying to keep themselves afloat
i can't escape this tired, this exhausted, no matter how hard i try.
"the bags under my eyes have stories of their own"

This is an old poem from my senior year of high school, but I still relate to a lot of what is said here.
Madeline Nov 2017
I've cut you out of my heart but you still invade my mind-- I see you in my sleep but you are still a memory I refuse to bring back to reality.
"what goes on in your mind? I think that I am falling down.."
Madeline Mar 2017
and then there were poems written about him.
Madeline Jan 2017
Sorry for existing
I want to say
but I know you won't understand
you'll try to fix me with your words
"don't say that, you are worth everything"
the only kind of worth I have stings when I try to wear it
I'm beaten and it's too painful to wear my scars today

Sorry for existing
I know I didn't do anything to hurt you
but I hurt myself enough to convince my worn down mind to let me
stay in under the covers today
"Just choose to be happy"
if I could choose to be happy don't you think I would have already tried that
my eyes are so tired I'm hallucinating
about a better time

Sorry for existing
your messages are pounding in my head like a migraine
"But you look fine"
Sometimes violent does not have a face,
only a stomach drop
an empty room
an emotionless drone
I can't cry out for fear my mind would hear
and lock me back in

Sorry for existing
Maybe I just won't for a while
"You don't mean that, pain is temporary"
No, I'll just rest and hope sleep is kinder.
don't worry about me, i'm doing fine
Madeline Jan 2017
This year,
love has so many more meanings than the last.
Love takes up more of the space in which emptiness lived until now.
This year, love can be definable,
or not.
I've learned that some types of love do not sound like
"I love you"
but can only be felt.
In the kind touches of a companion,
of a new little sister,
or of your cats.

Love that can only be seen,
in the pictures of you and your best friend at a party,
in the face of someone who will stay on the line until you say goodbye first,
in your co-star on stage when you realize you've got it down.

Love that can be defined, but only in the obscurist of ways
because who are we kidding;  we're teenagers.
"You are so good"
"I can't wait to see where life takes you"
become immense words of love.

Love only whispered,
in paying for your friend's coffee,
in adding a special touch on a card,
in promising to run away with your best friend when she shows up crying about her mother.

a light touch of mysticism, the kind that makes you stay out late talking in a Walmart parking lot,
the kind that fills you when you make plans to run away to the city after graduation,
the kind that takes you 40 minutes to get lost in before realizing it.

This year was spent loving,
maybe not even myself most of the time, but loving nonetheless.
A swift movement, a soft turn,
and here we are.
A new year of undefinable, definable, mystical, whispered, and purposeful love.
I can't wait to see where life takes us next.
there are hints of you here
  Nov 2016 Madeline
Gwen Johnson
I still dream of you sometimes
Press snooze
Just ten more minutes
With the idea of you
With the idea I'm not alone
That someone would look at me
With amazement in their eyes
Just ten minutes
Madeline May 2016
I want to tell you so badly how excited I am to not be friends with you anymore.
It's okay. Only a little while more.
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