Iba por un túnel oscuro,
aferrado a la promesa de la luz,
un final que me cambiaría,
un final en el que quería creer.

Encontrarme no fue fácil ni apresurado,
pero tampoco imposible.
No todo era sombra,
había destellos en mis propios susurros.

Cuando me vi en el túnel, me abracé.
Me sostuve fuerte y prometí no soltarme.
Ahora me entiendo, me acepto,
y camino junto a mis pasiones y mis miedos.

La vida es distinta. Me siento más fuerte,
no solo en cuerpo, sino en mente.
Más consciente, más preparado,
con ganas de compartir mi voz.

Así como lo lees, me encontré.
El futuro es incierto,
pero si algo tengo claro,
es que ya no me perderé.

When I was in 1st grade I would jump off the swing set just to feel alive
I got a lot of attention because the other kids thought I could die
Maybe I was lacking some sort of Imbalance chemically in my mind
Because the attention they gave me Was a new type of high

I illicit reactions just so I can feel fine
Blood is in the sink I think I can finally see the light
I want to feel the wind between my arms And lift into the air just one more time
The attention is addicting

Thick eyeliner and a black boobie dress
12 years old and they say I'm not filled out quite yet
I enjoyed the validation the old men gave me
Blood red, pill dead
Just like the pretty cigarette girls on TV said.
stuck in this loveless hole until somebody saves me.
Self destructive, enable the pain
Turn the corner and play their game.
I only want to what's worst for me.

I illicit reactions just to see
The emotionally intense delivery
Oh you should see your face,
And in the frown you gave me.
I'm just a liar now
No one hears my screams
There's blood in the sink and no one is listening

Lower middle class middle school *****, stealing pencil sharpeners every chance I could get
The blood is on my clothes and its not coming off
And I'll still send that old man a picture of my body
As I leek blood, draining it like a hobby.
He ignores my pain to fulfill his selfish pleasures knowing he gets to see a pubescent body with ******* on
I only like doing the things that are bad for me.

I illicit these reactions to keep the attraction
If I'm in control and I know their intentions, they can't hurt me
It can't happen
But there's still blood in the sink
God I'm so tragic
Wouldn't you think?

Surrounded by everyone, yet I remain unseen,
Heard by no one, invisible.
Amid the din of laughter, my words dissolve,
Unacknowledged, stripped of dignity.
Each silence carves away my sense of worth.

You can talk, yell, scream into the void,
But no one lifts a finger to help you.
You yell into valleys and plains—silence echoes back.
  
Part of a group, a long-sought pack,
Yet every effort feels like a mountain to climb.
I hear the sneers of those who should be close,
Not friends—just echoes of mockery,
Or the relentless chatter that drowns me out.
  
Nothing else, just the pain of being unseen.
  
The quiet swells and I fade, can they even see me?
If they don't see me, how can they care?
In this ever-growing silence, can I sustain myself?


Everyone seems amazing. Are they?
They wear smiles like masks—
Bright and polished, yet brittle beneath.
Perhaps beneath, a tide of hatred flows.
Do they hide it, or are you simply blind?  

Their perfection casts my flaws in sharper relief.
In this cold reality, a truth unfolds—
You will never succeed, your dreams a distant mirage.
The silence shapes you into something terrible,
A reflection you barely recognize.  

And yet?


Their silence shapes me into what I fear most
A shadow of my dream, do I even exist if I remain unseen?


I have never sought to end my life—
Such actions feel beneath me.
But pride alone cannot drown this silence.
Am I less? Am I saner than those who do?
My quiet misery matters to me.

Alive, yet unseen—does my life matter
If no one knows me?
I shine brightly, yet I am engulfed in shadows.
Am I really alive if only I can know me?

My mental health is perfect.
I am the happiest among them.
Am I? Can happiness survive in this silence?
Have I truly ever been happy?

I deserve understanding, yet it slips away—
No validation, no dignity.
Am I destined for loneliness forever?
Have I invited this loneliness again?  

From nothing to new nothing,
Have I truly escaped the hell I knew?


Alongside the pain, pride swells
A deadly war for my broken soul


You tell yourself you’re a wonderful person,  
but you don’t believe it.
You claim to be helpful, kind, cheerful.
You vowed to yourself that you would be—
A beacon for others yet lost in your own shadow.

You stumble under the weight of your own needs.
Every effort to be virtuous feels futile,
Not enough to save your soul.
A mirror reveals cracks you refuse to mend.
Shame coils around you, a shadow you cannot escape.


Even in the eternal night of my broken self, hope flickers
A struggling spark, lost in the dark expanse


Despite the darkness something burns
A dream that you long to watch grow
A dream that you long to nurture and care for
But through the broken glass, my vision distorts
Fragile unrecognizable unable to see its beauty

Shards shatter jagged and sharp
Unnoticed, unwhole, unseen
Is my suffering deserved?
Have I caused my pain?


Self loathing cannot mask the pride that swells
Their eternal war is still not louder than the dreadful silence


I know I am destined for more than dirt or ****,
Yet all I see are my shortcomings.
The silence shapes me into what I fear most
A shadow of the person I long to become.
I am nothing, noise in the background.
Were you meant to be important?
  
Actions speak louder than words, yet I stand still,
My voice lost in the roar of those who hate me—
Or worse, those who never even see me.

I am doomed to live in my quiet suffering
shattered and unseen, drowning in the suffocating silence

Is it my voice, or yours, that I hear
When I pick up a knife and fork and put
It straight back down because
I haven’t earned my reward?

Are they my eyes, or yours, that trick me
Into thinking I’ve gained immense amounts of weight,
Even though my clothes hang loose and
I’ve lost two inches off my waist?

*

It’s ironic,
this disease;
it eats away at me.
The malignancy consumes me.

I have this part of me,
A glaringly large part of me,
That I must hide from the world.
Symptoms, thoughts, feelings, and emotions
that I have to cram into a little lunchbox.
By the end of the day this little box weighs
a hundred pounds,
And I alone unpack it's contents
every night.

It's exhausting.
And I'm tired.

My mind is scattered
thoughts askew
not myself
she who I never knew
disconnected from reality
never knowing the truth
a faceless ghost
telling me what to do
reaching for answers
that skim my fingers
unable to grasp
my thoughts
the new
my mind is a puzzle
missing half the pieces
the others are the same
an impossible thing to continue
I yearn to connect
the pieces of my mind
but I’m missing the blueprint
the one I must design
scattered mind
controlled by a ghost
whose name is mine
but face is unknown…

I hate myself.
Ah, what a shocking revelation.
Another day, another shipwreck,
Like I ever had a map to calmer waters.

I hate myself.
A song stuck on repeat,
An anthem my mind refuses to rewrite,
A weight pressing against my ribs, unyielding.

I hate myself.
And here comes the grand finale:
The urge to tighten, to silence,
As if choking on air could quiet the waves.

I hate myself.
So much that even my reflection looks away,
So much that even my shadow hesitates to follow.
So much, and yet, I am still here.

But you are here.
Somehow still standing,
A survivor of a war no one sees,
A heartbeat that refuses surrender.

You are here.
Your chest is tight, your hands are shaking,
Your mind swings between stay and run,
But at least you still feel, right?

You are here.
Breathe. Or let your body do it for you.
It knows how to stay afloat,
Even when your mind is begging to sink.

You are here.
And you deserve better.
Not because it’s poetic,
But because no storm lasts forever.

You are here.
And so am I.
So tell me, do we drown, or do we learn to swim?

tie me up
my insides in knots
how can i tell what is real
and what is not?

my anxiety tightens the bow,
now struggling to breathe
my heart beats fast
and i begin to seethe

the pain of worry
lies deep inside
lacing me up
i've been tied.

don't touch me, for i might crack
don't hit me, for i might break
don't yell at me, for i will shatter

these glass walls hold my porcelain soul,
but cannot protect me from the world
the pain, the love, the hurt—

paint my face the way it should be
a smile and bright red cheeks
i am yours to design