I hoped that you’d protect me from myself
I never thought I’d have to protect myself from you
Just woke up from another nightmare and it still breaks my heart thinking of you
Their eyes and minds,
Focused on you.
Like a street lamp,
Off and on.
You have a reason
That I understand?
You have an excuse
That I can't relate to?
Work on yourself.
You are not broken.
There is nothing to fix.
You are whole as you are.
You put yourself back together.
More beautiful than you
I have been taking care of myself for the past 23 years. I am no longer accepting life advice from anyone who believes I'm a project to fix.
Seeping through the walls,
Slamming open doors,
Her past haunts her.
Her mouth is taped shut,
With a growling gut,
Shadows taunt her.
She knows that she's here,
With nothing to fear,
Her heart ignores her.
Her lungs force air,
Trying not to stare,
She's in control now.
The shadows decay,
Back into memory.
Battling psychosis with PTSD is terrifying but not impossible.
Today, I stood underneath the bridge.
I looked up at how high I was going to fall in.
My eyes still hurt now from the tears I cried.
“No one cares about you” a voice whispered.
A loud ‘DING’ frightened me, it was followed by an annoying vibration.
They were calling me. They were worried about me.
I didn’t want to be under the bridge today.
The whisper led me here.
They tell me that once I’m gone, everything will be easier for everyone.
Then I think about my brother with no home.
My boyfriend left alone.
My siblings with no middle sister.
My class with no teacher.
My flatmates with no rent.
It would only be easier for me.
So I carry on, hoping that one day I’ll feel less empty.
She smelt of
Glass shards cloaked the floor,
Smothering her belongs,
Like a blanket used to suffocate captives.
Amongst the chaos,
Stands tall pictures of her family.
Untouched and distorted with dust.
Step by step,
She searches through the rubble.
Through tear swelled eyes,
She stares into the floor.
I’m not enough.
I need to be more.
They count on me.
I’m not enough.
Her thoughts spiral around her mind,
As if each one were a razor blade.
Slowing blending her brain.
Her muscles ached,
Her head pounded as the tears fell from her cheeks and onto her cracked lips.
In a wave of realisation,
She ****** air in through her nose and exhaled harshly.
Carried by a whisper;
She pushed herself to her feet,
And found herself cleaning her room again.
As a writer with ADHD I struggle to handle life’s stresses. This poem lets you see into the disappointment in myself.
Explaining the feeling
Of feeling frozen
Is like explaining to a child
Why people hurt
There is no delicate way
To describe the intensity
Words trapped in my throat
My body wrapped in invisible rope
As though a man at each side
Pulls the rope tighter
You want me to explain?
Honey, I can’t explain
Something I also don’t know
Paralysed in pain is my common reaction when I’m trying to process something painful to me.
All and intensely
Fully and endlessly
Is it weak?
Or is a strength?
Confusion fogging my mind,
I struggle to accept my empathy
Not relevant to my own
But relevant enough
To consume me
In second hand grief
Can I handle these emotions
And still support those in need?
It’s a question I constantly ponder.
With another outbreak,
It’s a question I need to answer.