as i sit down to write
and stare at the lines on this page
long past the time i should be sleeping
all i hear around me is
crickets and cars on the highway
and the cat scratching at the door, trying to get in my room
and i am confronted by the calm simplicity of this life:
i don't have any cares but my own
and the few people around me-
and even those are dampened by distance...
my pen leaves a spot of spilled ink on the clean white paper.
the air is cold and heavy in my lungs
and the sounds are so much louder here.
The clouds this morning tucked me in
Caressed my hands with fog and still
Said stay here, sit with your silence
Child, there is time for chaos and time for calm
And this is the space between your palms
These are the times I fall in love with writing again
Just holding a pen
Use it to open myself up
Pour my truths onto paper like blood
Give voice to secrets and sins
I used to use poetry like a blade
Let it separate my skin like paper
And illuminate every piece of myself
Etched letters onto my bones
With sinew and stone
Let my ink come out red
No words left unsaid
Without it, I thought I would die
Ripping myself apart for the art
Was the only way I knew I was alive
I felt nothing except on paper
Reminding myself of the pain helped me know I was there
But writing isn’t supposed to cage you in with your trauma
It is not meant to be blood tears and regression
It should take your blood and make it beautiful
Stitch your wounds not create them
a way to heal with a pen
To work through what you go through
And come out new
There should not be trauma here
There should not be poems that push you back under
words should be the lifeline
Pulling you out
Now I don’t use poetry to feel sadness
I know I'm alive whether I write it or not
My pen leaks heart and soul
Lets me share my blood with brothers
Brings me joy and brings me peace
A caveat for the still and the in between
That I used to **** myself to fill
this is a travesty from my notes app enjoy
I would like to slip softly, kindly, into the abyss..
That sweet nothingness, which cradles all in darkness.
I wish to become part of it,
Letting that cold emptiness entwine itself, into my thoughts, smothering them into decay.
I seek to see no trace left, of this mortality I hold.
To let it drift away on oceans of black, eventually sinking sweetly beneath the tectonic plates.
I cover my heart
in a layer of steel
so that the things she has said
I cannot feel
It makes it harder to push
the blood through my veins
but we can grow a little
learning from the pain
Your heart will grow stronger
in its little steel cage
keeping you centered
letting go of the rage
When your mind is healed
and your body has calmed
You'll notice the cold steel on your heart
is now in your palm.
Where there is peace
there is silence.
Peace is simply the absence of noise.
The calmness in your soul is mistaken for loneliness.
We just went boating
too far and got entangled –
in lotus flowers.
“I still remember that night by the brook” (c. 1110, Li Qingzhao)
feeling the water flow-
it will take me
Where I want to go-
From all the woes of this world.
Behind this veil,
I feel the calm
Distorted; I can’t tell
What’s right and wrong
It's all a blur.
All I hear is ocean song
Singing quietly in my ears.
I wish I could breathe here
So I could stay forever…
My eyes may say "cool as a cucumber."
But that's just what I want you to see.
Because in reality, my eyes
Are aquariums of anxiety in disguise.
Silence, high water,
the ferry berths are empty –
the boat is stranded.
“Alone I love the quiet grass” (ca. 780, Wei Yingwu)
Do you need someone?
On this World Mental Health Day
Does someone need you?