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moss Nov 2022
no matter how far I've come
how much I've been doing better
I always return and succumb
to this deep and chronic fetter

the darkness slowly creeps back in
too tired, to scared, to restless
maggots wriggling under my skin
psyche becoming monstrous

I know the feeling all too well
like an old friend I can't let go
encasing me in a protective shell
personally fitted not to show

I find I've changed drastically
yet still not much at all
just a child dreaming fantastically
a forest fairy in the fall

the more I learn to love myself
the less I'm fond of others
a dress up doll atop a shelf
with poor emotional buffers

I wonder what it's like to live
as oblivious as you are
what it feels like not to give
your years to itchy scars
moss Sep 2020
mornings are hard for me
and they're getting worse exponentially

because last night i told myself
"it's okay, we'll try again tomorrow"
and i set my worries up on the shelf
only to awaken to another day of sorrow

i sleep too much, but it's filled with chaotic dreaming
waking up ten times, heart racing, staring at the ceiling

because i can't escape all the overwhelming feelings
and i don't know where they came from, but i think it's everywhere
so i'm just sitting here, sobbing and seething
crushing my skull with my hands over my ears

and the only way i can express is through paper and rhyme
but i haven't picked up my pen in such a long time

because i think i'll cancel my therapy appointment
since last week i told her i've been off my meds for a month
and i'm so sick and tired of being a disappoinment...
when i said i was doing well, it was just a front

how many cups of coffee will it take
this morning for me to not feel like a mistake
  Jun 2020 moss
sticks and stones
will break bones
and a knee will take a life

tear gas and barricades
will need first aids
and rubber bullets will take eyes

signs and chants
dismissed as rants
and a point that will keep being missed
justice is not just a word.

moss Jun 2020
I feel sad.

not the kind of sad that makes you
cry for hours about everything or nothing at all,
but the kind that makes you
lay in bed all day,
staring at the popcorn ceiling
in numbness.

the kind of sad that means
yesterday I couldn't get myself to eat a bite,
but today I can't stop filling my mouth
to fill a void.

the kind of sad that means
I went to the grocery store just to look around
and asked an employee about a cat toy sale
just to talk to someone.

the kind of sad that means
I stopped taking my meds a week ago,
because what's the point anymore
when I still feel like this?

the kind of sad that means
I get high and look into my own eyes in the mirror
just to try to remember who I am
because I don't recognize her.

the kind of sad that means
I've been fantasizing about
reaching a blade into my skin,
just to feel anything,
for so long it seems normal.
and I'm not sure what normal is anymore.

I feel sad.

I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise
when I've tried every drug to fix it
over the last decade of telling myself
"just get through one more day"
every morning.
a little free form just to get my thoughts out
  May 2020 moss
i met you
as the leaves fell
and the sky turned grey

the world grew cold
as my heart turned warm

i missed you
as the leaves grew back
and the sky turned blue

the world grew warm
as my heart turned cold
  May 2020 moss
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
moss May 2020
the orchid's leaves are dry and crumbled
like a page who's margins are torched
it's reaching stem has now been humbled
to a brittle twig, it's life scorched

for a time, it was forgotten
refound, but beyond salvation
its roots becoming rotten
doomed to damnation


a girl cries on the kitchen floor
clutching the *** to her teary cheek
mind plagued by the sickly gore
she's too distressed to even speak

the tab of paper placed on her tongue
opened her eyes to the life that's lost
her emotions unhinged and free to run
the chemicals revealing the true cost


the orchid, wilted, a symbol for love
she's thrown away and betrayed
but too painful to be let go of
and too broken to have stayed

he gifted it to her in their last moment
of a devastating goodbye
she needs to reconcile- the flower is gone
but she isn't ready for it to die
there's no such thing as a bad trip; only harder ones.
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