am i supposed to feel this way?
as if i am the last speck of sand in an hourglass?
cuz i think there's something wrong with my brain;
my therapist told me i'm very self aware
but i'm still not sure what to do
because i know why i fail
and i know how to succeed
i've been guided thru and thru
lectured and praised and punished and taught
yet i still find myself kicking in doors
and lying thru my teeth
i believe things will get better
but i'm not sure i deserve it;
there's a lump at the back of my throat,
permanently settled

there are nights where i
fear i may die in my sleep
and so i stay awake til
the morning light floods my
window & birds chirp

i have not died yet
thousands of days i've slept,
eaten, breathed and moved
and while i've never experienced
the situation i fear
it doesn't stop me from my anxieties
that grip my ankles and pull with
a force that cannot be stopped
i grab at the headboards and hold
on for dear life but
my hands always slip

there are nights where i
fear i may die in my sleep
and maybe the desire i have to survive
is proof enough that i have it in me to live
but i still cry at random times
and i can't visualize a future where i'm happy
and it feels like time is slipping away
yet i never try to reach out and grab it

i am not scared of dying
as much as i am scared of death
i've always hated change
and this is the biggest of them all
i want to get better but
it feels so far off
and taking one step forward
is hard enough as it is

there are nights where i
fear i may die in my sleep
tonight is one of those nights
and so i stay awake

i don't hate
who i am today
for although i make
mistakes & although
i struggle with being
myself, i
find that humanity
thrives on the knowledge
that none of us are perfect, &
beauty is subjective. so the
next time i glance in the
mirror and grimace, i
will tell myself that i
am what i make of
myself and my
eyes can only see
what i train them to see. i will
remind myself (gently, of
course) to blink and
blink again.

i don't mean to blame
other people

but i find it ironic that
they tell me i was fine till i was
fifteen , yet i can remember
being twelve and so
terrified of being late

seriously, **** that guy
who screamed in my face
when i was sobbing and shaking
and hiding in bathrooms
because i thought everyone
would think i was an idiot
if i came five minutes past
start.

anyway
i just feel like it's never that
simple. i am not a sudden person.
i never will be.

i showed the signs. they didn't see them.
and it's my fault that i couldn't recognize them?
that i couldn't be introspective before i was even
out of middle school?

haha, yeah. fifteen and suddenly ****** up
depressed and anxious and angry and lost
impossible! i was in honors courses!
no way in hell that i was so ****** up before!

well, now i'm here
still a *******
still afraid
and now there ain't time
to be fixed

i'll dream sometime, someday, somewhere
lost in a sea of endless thoughts
think of the things that were once there
think of the things that are now lost

i know it hurts, because it should
and yet i mourn the mounting tide
if i could fight it, know i would
i wish i'd never stepped aside

tomorrow marches into frame
why does it always go so fast?
to douse the fire, **** the flame
to cut my tether to the past

all good things must one day end
i never thought it would be you
all i can think, without you, friend,
is when you're gone, what will i do?

i'll dream sometime, someday, somewhere
lost in a sea of endless thoughts
i'll say a quiet, sorrowed prayer
and hope it covers up my sobs

i want to be a modern day shakespeare
dancing words around these fools
spitting fire and misery
instead i'm a ******* monk
-ey

barely talk and
when i do
i'm spewing ****

god, i hate myself

been a year and
some would say
i've gotten worse

they say
you'll hit
rock bottom and
then you can only
go up . hah, okay
yeah well i'm
ready to climb, so
ready to get out of this
pit. but turns out
i still ain't hit
the ground yet.
this isn't over? ****.

i'll dream of you someday
not in the good-warmth fuzzy-feeling
limbs entwined and comfort promised
way, no, not in the bright-day fresh-faced
morning comes and i follow way, no
new-found steps and early cups of tea
shirts unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up,
no mutual joy and mutual sorrow and
goodbyes turned hellos turned i-love-yous

i'll dream of you someday
tipped in regret and laced with nostalgia
pointedly distant and further driven
deeper dug under my skin, veins bulged
almond scented and pillow still warm,
it will be untitled poems never read but
thought hard, words unspoken kept
pressed against the breast-pocket of
woolen pajamas now soaked through,
puffy-eyed stares in silent mornings
and blemishes on a salt-dried face

but when i wake it will be ashes,
not gathered, but spread, verily
wind-swept taken to seaside views
in gold-flecked divine proportion.
it will be deep breaths in and deep breaths out
and life that feels too much to live
but i will live it anyway.