this bowl can still
be repaired
even if it
seems broken
irredeemably
even if its pieces
have been trodden
underfoot
further ground down
in an effort
to recover those
scattered fragments
as unlikely as
it may be that
these edges can
be jigsawed together
aligned once more
it could simply be
a case of
embracing the cracks
that might remain
filling them
with something
to be marvelled at

I could write
on emotion alone.
Through bitterness,
I sought beauty.
With rage,
I expressed
the torrent within.
All was aflame,
all had burned brightly.

But now,
it is naught but a flicker.
I pass time quietly,
as the ash of past emotions
blanket the landscape with grey.
I am tired.
I fear I may
never recover.

leaving grief. and i—i now remember why
i should never have allowed anyone
to get under my buckling skin
for fine friends are only fine, friends until
they know the perfect way to damage
the stillborn remnants of what you hold on to
them, without patience, distraught,
you; promises of finding someone better
overhearing a devotion that cannot possibly be true
only useful in the event of an epiphanic letdown
i love you but why have i loved you
did i love you because you were kind for five seconds
and it was only fair to bleed when it should not be enough
did you not love me because i wasn’t enough
or because you knew i was nothing to be proud of?
from knowing too much, trusting too well
follies and fey melodies for a final disconnect
i loved you never mean what you say
say anything to say anything to say anything to say
sorry. your smug conversation is one i carry still with me
even as the tactile memory of you burns
and my singed skin curls into the shape of an old friend
who never cared. i never remember to forget
they’ll always be there until they aren’t
leaving, grief, and i—i no longer wish for a happier end
i only wish there was a softer way to recover.

im sad because my brother leaves again in a few weeks and i only saw him twice
im sad because i never had a dad
im sad because i "recovered" and i hate myself more than before
im sad because my medication doesnt work
im sad because i have no money
im sad because im not good at anything
im sad because i have no culture
im sad because people are uninformed
im sad because im sick
im sad because im being invalidated and told to just "get better"
im sad because everything feels like its falling apart
im sad because i have no god
im sad because im lost
i wish i could disappear
i wish i could find a way
to make a way

Turning in this day
Turning over in dismay
For here, as I lay,
Comforted in these sheets
A chill turns to a burning blaze
My mind trapped in a dizzying haze

Aching muscle and raspy tone
Weakness cripples every bone
Shallow comes each breath
That escapes my parched lips
To countless others it foretold death
Filmed in countless clips

But, not for I
Not in this day, not this time
Not in this peculiar rhyme
For here I shall not die

To recover
To grow stronger
Prepare for what may come
The war is not yet over
With hope, it won't be much longer
For this great disease we shall overcome.

- Jay M
June 3rd, 2021

I don't know that

but I know for once that

I am proud,
Not glad, neither sad
Not uplifted, yet not drowned

I'm just proud,
of where I was and where it brought me,
of every defeat that comes across
of every each win however it is small

of who I am and who I am becoming

I realise now,
though I am not always fun, neither smart
Not always calm, yet not mad
that all of my past cannot define me

I am right here
Simply,
Right now

And all that I wish
is to remain

proud.