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Oakley Sep 2013
Anxiety

I run,
and run,
and run,
and it chases,
chases,
chases.

It haunts the crevices of my mind,
laughing,
mocking,
pushing me closer,
to an undefined edge.

As I think I am getting better,
as hope caresses me into a broken lucidity,
it knocks on my door.
Pounding against the hard cracking ossein,
pounding,
pounding.

All around me my walls shatter,
and it’s echoing voice,
protrudes my hollow skull.
It taunts my frail spirit,
It takes a hammer to my confidence,
It tears my existence to shreds.

I hide in my room.
It is safe there.
Hiding.
Hiding.
No pain can reach me,
If it cannot see me.

Its voice is a calming melody
That masks the true terror it really is.
“It’s okay to hide. You’ll be safe here.
“Don’t be scared.”
When all I am
Is scared.
Scared.
Scared.

Scared of people,
what they’ll say,
what they’ll think.
Scared of how
I will embarrass myself
this time.

Its hand grasps me by the throat
and shakes me numb.
“Do not go. Do not go.
“They will mock you,
“They will judge you,
“Don’t go, Don’t go.”

I run,
and run,
and run,
and it chases,
chases,
chases.

I want away. I want away.
This fear it gives me.
This fear is throws on me.
I do not need.
It racks my mind endlessly,
whispering lies into my ears.

I try,
and try,
and try,
to get away,
and it laughs,
laughs,
laughs.
Oakley Nov 2018
She was beautiful,
The calm she wore like a swath,
Wrapped around everyone she met.
Her smile was charming,
The comfort and care always
Expressed through her eyes,
Working it's way into every soul she crossed.
Her heart was kind,
Longing and craving to see
Happiness exude from all she’d meet.

Her mind was a storm;
She gave all she had to everyone
Just to see their happiness grow.
Even if it meant hers was lost.
Oakley Apr 2013
"Have you ever been in love?"
She asked.
"Yes, madly, passionately, and terribly,"
I replied.
Oakley Feb 2013
I'm in love with a girl,
And so help me god,
When I hear her say,
She doesn't feel the same.
Oakley Feb 2013
Do you love me,
or don't you?
Make up your mind.

Do you want to be with me,
or don't you?
Make up your mind.

My heart is ripping at the seams.
Do you see that?
Your beautiful nightmare is invading my dreams.
And the only thing that fills the night air are my screams.

Terror after terror,
Fright after fright,
My bad dreams all seem
to be part of a scheme,
to rip me apart
seam by seam.
Oakley Nov 2017
09/03/2014

Who would have ever thought that I’d still be standing.

My knees constantly buckling, my fingers always trembling.

My voice cracks and my eyes fall, my broken feet still planted up right.


My heart in shambles from cuts and abuse.

My head doesn’t think quite like it used to.

My throat is raw and burning, it screams but no sounds come out.


Like a lighthouse with the bulb burned out,

A bird with broken wings,

A tree that has its rings stripped and taken until it’s nothing but a twig.


11/16/2017

Who would have ever thought that I’d still be standing.

My panic still washes over me, the quivers never quite left.

My tears still gather and my eyes burn, my feet are sore but stable.


My heart is pasted back together with love and care.

My head doesn’t think quite like it used to.

My throat is swollen and shaking, it laughs and it keeps laughing.


Like a ship out at sea rocking,

A bird chirping in the morn,

A tree whose buds are slowly growing and healing from a storm.
I have long forgotten about this website and the poetry I've written. Going through my old Google docs I found the top half of this, written back in 2014. I decided to add onto it with my what I have learned in the past three years. I'm still down a lot, but I'm not hopeless as I was. Which is a pretty great thing I'd say!
Oakley Sep 2021
You've left a stain
on my life
that I am not entirely
motivated
to wash out.
Thought about how each person who leaves sometimes leaves some marks that stay with you but not in a particularly bad or negative way.
Oakley Feb 2013
Eight hours of mindless torture
on a little three hours of sleep.
I feel suffocated and alone,
in a sea full of children.
My body wrenches, I’ve puked and shaken,
but that doesn’t matter to the authorities.

It’s about grades and status.
It’s all about status.
Mother demands me to be "popular."
Grandmother regards me to be,
at the absolute finest,
The best in front of others.
"Friends"  insult pictures.
What I want doesn't matter;
My "status" must be as tall as a tower.

It’s all about status in a world full of lies.
So what if I sit here and shake,
all that matters is that I don’t fail;
it doesn’t matter if I die.
Oakley Feb 2013
Valentines Day, go away.
Come again some other day,
When I'm okay,
And I'm just fine,
And when I have someone,
To call just mine.

— The End —