With his hands on his
ears,                                                            ­                    
                                                                ­                                                        
he tries not to
hear,                                                            ­                                        
                                                                ­                                                        
as the voices cry
out,                                                             ­                               
                                 ­                                                                 ­                      
in his head fear
sprouts                                                          ­                                    
                            ­                                                                 ­                         
You can sense his
frustration,                                                     ­                             
                                                                ­                                              
without knowing the
situation                                                       ­                                                                 ­
 You can see he's suffering
inside,                                                          ­                                              
                  ­                                                                 ­                               
and it makes me want to
cry                                                              ­                                      
                                                                ­                                                
Teary eyes and a smile on his
face,                                                            ­        
                                                        ­                                                            
he says that he feels out of place                                                            ­                                                                 ­   
 Urges me to want to pull him in                                                               ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                       
   try to give him strength
within                                                           ­         
                                                                ­                                                
Many years of pain, lived again &
again,                                                          
­                                                                 ­                                                   
as we both pray for it to go
away                                                             ­                               
                                                                ­                                        
knowing it has yet to
end                                                             ­                                                       
                                                                ­                                                    
So fragile is he, yet as strong as can
be                                                               ­     
                                                                ­                                                    
   you want to love him eternally                                                        ­  
                                                              ­                                                
Sweet, gentle giant innocent as a
child                                                            ­  
                                                                ­                                                
  with a perfect disposition and a weary smile

When I die
No one will mourn
There will be a funeral
Many will attend
mourning someone
That died when I was 10
The gravestone will be mistaken
About who I am
The people will weep
And mourn for long
But not for me
For they have it wrong
They will mourn the girl in the casket
A shell of who I once was
No one will mourn me
That is no lie
When I die they will mourn the shell
of a girl i once was
But the little boy inside
who’s always wanted to come out
No one will mourn him
Ace will be forgotten
He will be erased.

That boy from Virginia
The one I once knew
We never met in person
But I wish that we had
You knew more about me
Then I knew myself
You’re 2 years older
God you’re almost 17
I remember when we first met
You were 13
You’ve ghosted me twice
But sometimes you return
I’m not sure you will this time
But I hope that you do
We wanted to live in Germany
With horses and cats
We talked about band
And how I wanted a cat
We’ve seen each other in our highs
As well as our lows
We grew up together
But now you’ve gone on
You’ve grown up more
And left me back
If you happen to see this
Please come reach out
Oh Kass from Virginia
I miss you

I only knew you for a week
But it felt like years
We shared much in common
Especially our tears
It been 2 years
I wonder where you’ve gone
Did you get into theater school?
Or is that dream gone?
I remember giving you my book
Because you wanted to read
It left a impact on you
I remember the poems you taught me to write
So I’m here writing this one
The last words you said to me were
“Take care of the hive”
It was our inside joke
From that book of mine
Oh dear Cameron C.
I hope you’re ok
I think of you often
A little to much
I hope you’re okay
Sincerely your psych ward bf, Ace

When you try to **** yourself
They lock you up
You’re a danger to yourself and others
“We’re here to help”
By helping they meant giving me medication
Till I am a zombie
No longer myself
But a shell of who I used to be
Why didn’t they notice all I needed was a hug
Not to be stuck
In these padded walls
“They are only here to help you”
But by helping they make me feel broken
I am not normal
I’ll never be normal
I am broken so bad
“Only we can fix you”
They says that they’ll fix me
But every time I feel
Less and less of whom I used to be
No worries in the world
Just dirt on our knees
But now we’re grown up
And there is no turning back to the way I used to be.

I've got monsters in my head
They say they want my life to end
I fight back, I call them enemies
But sometimes they're my allies
We share the same thoughts
Hold the same point of view
I should really call them friend

They remind me of my mistakes
They say it's the biggest part of me
I fight them on the outside
But inwardly I admit
I wholeheartedly agree

My monster friends are so kind
they offer a solution to my problem
They suggest I end it all
They give me means to do so
And assure me it's for the best
They tell me repeatedly no-one else will mind

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

Red was the color of the water
when I jumped into a river
that was too shallow for me to dive into.

In those short 5 seconds,
I soared through the winds.
The air pressure nearly enough to rip me to shreds.

Those 5 seconds when my skin peeled off from my back,
I grew wings.

They lit on fire,
and I burned with them,
and it was almost soothing.

The pain was a reminder that
I was alive,
even if it was only for 5 short seconds.

In the brink of death,
I felt the most alive I had in years.

I don't know if it was the wind
or the fact that I was burning.
But in those five seconds,
I was a human.
Something I had been alienated from my whole life.

I was dead before I hit the gravel.
My body twisted in all types of different directions,
and when the police found me,
they had already pronounced me as deceased.

Imagine

Having an illness that impacts every facet of your life.

It’s there when you wake up, and when you go to sleep,

An illness that impacts all of your organs.

That ravages your personality and sense of self.

That destroys relationships, careers, and engagement in life...

And nobody supports you.

-

You are ridiculed, blamed. Told that you are stupid, need to snap out of it.

Others gossip about how you’ve been looking and acting.

You become bathed in shame so suffocating, it nearly drowns you.

Treatment is a long, arduous battle that many face on their own. Many are forced to keep up with work or school because this isn’t seen as a “real” illness. But you are essentially fighting yourself through the process. In fact, many can't even afford proper treatment.

If you don’t recover, the shame persists. You believe you’re defective and failed treatment, that it’s all your fault.

If you recover, nobody rings a bell. Few congratulate you or say much at all. Many who recover hit burn out, and are then questioned as to why they are burnt out.

The shame never escapes you.

I hope one day
Individuals with mental illness
Will be able to celebrate wins and have others support them in their low points
As if it is a completely normal and expected reaction.

Please support those near and dear
They are fighting a battle most would fear.