"breakdowns" poems
If you are uncomfortable when you look in the mirror,
keep in mind:
We spent thousands of years
trying to convince the earth
she was flat.
We wrote her maps as evidence of the things we saw;
and she believed them.
She cried tsunamis, and had earthquake breakdowns.
Keep in mind: the Sun never gave up hope.
The earth will keep spinning and breathing
the star-dusty space void of encouragement.
Next time you look in the mirror
and second-guess your potential divinity,
remember you will keep shining and living.
Because the Sun is out there
believing in you,
compensating for lack of the human capacity
to treat each other empathically.
You don’t need proof or approval
to be exactly what you are;
Eventually everyone will see
your infinite beauty.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
midnights still find me retracing the moments
that led to our thousand lakeside kisses;
they were secrets left in a summer dream.
each second — a bowline knot
leading straight to our
late night drives
and vehicle breakdowns
and last minute goodbyes
at the break of dawn.
midnights still find me sleeping
next to a shoebox of the books you left;
i still hear your voice
when i read the lines
of your favorite paragraphs
the clock hands, mocking,
leading me through a maze of
memories and parking lot conversations.
midnights still find me rewriting histories
with resin-pressed flowers,
maybe the petals will point to where
i started losing you —
and maybe it's in every direction.
the black, bold numbers have become my crumbs
leading to road trips and
to all the bus stops we missed,
kissing;
now i still miss my stop
without your lips next to mine.
and midnights still find me
writing poems like these
but clearly,
you're too far off
for these words to reach.
and now, midnights still find me wanting you back.
and 'til now, midnights still find you gone.
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 7:52 AM UTC
Before he dies,
he wants two
blue-eyed daughters.
Wild, young,
mesmerized spirits
who dance in pajamas,
put makeup on the dog,
skip around strangers
on the sidewalk and
believe in one true love.
Their souls already
live in his heart
and contribute,
almost fully,
to his
emotional breakdowns
and softened view
of the world.
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
i've never been
to any other
highschool
in my life.
therefore,
i cannot speak
for all schools.
but, i can speak
for my school.
about every other
student here is
a druggie.
which means
you have your choice
of two crowds.
but once you choose,
at the beginning
of your freshman year,
you can't change your mind.
and the teachers here
rarely teach.
they throw slideshows up
and blame you for not
paying attention
if you actually get
the nerve
to go up
and ask for help.
our principal
promotes
mental health,
but doesn't give any
resources for
mental breakdowns,
anxiety, or
depression.
sitting in classrooms
for eight hours,
with people you
can't stand,
with nowhere to go
will completely
destroy someone
especially someone
already
suffering.
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 9:33 AM UTC
If you are the healer lay your hands on me, I am diseased you can set me free. If you have the will I have the desire, if you collect ashes send me into the fire.
If you are the liar then I am the fool, I wanna hurt myself by being close to you.
So catapult me into the sun and I'll burn baby burn, catapult me into the sun and I'll burn just for you.
If you are the liar I am the fool I will survive to be used as your tool.
Ten pence piece lays heavy on the heart, loose change love affair that's falling apart.
so catapult me into he sun and I'll burn baby burn, catapult me into the sun and I'll burn just for you.
Breakdowns and shakedowns got me bruised by your heart, it wasn't the words it was action from the start! You are the seducer I am the user together we feed off of each other.
so catapult me into the sun and I'll burn baby burn, yes catapult me into the sun and I'll burn just for you.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 7:49 PM UTC
Is moeilik om te begryp,
en nie rerig mooi nie.
Dis 'n spoegspat soos 'n herrie-
'n gemmors wat langs die kar staan en bedel.
Dis 'n gemoedsbekakking... ag verskoon tog
verswakking soos die breakdowns innie gossip magazine.
Ag shame , hulle dra ook maar swaar aan society se crimes
en al dai drugs is maar ommie pyn te verlig.
Kyk nounet daar , sterre wat pyn , is seker maar
'n metafoor. Vir wat? Se jy my!
Jy wat my analiseer en dissekteer...
want daar is geen meer sterre wat pyn nie,
die woorde wat rym ennie
ander goeie goed is lankal van alle kleur bevry
in my agterkop waar dit donker is soos
'n land waar hoop 'n feeverhaal is.
Dis te donker om nou te rym,
maar te donker om in te hou...
so ek sny maar die kanker stuk vir stuk uit
en bloei nonsens-ink op die blaai.
Aan die einde is dit nie net die gedig nie.
Dis die ganse wereld wat rym.
Elke herrie en spoegspatter
elke gerookte ster en hartseer kokkedoor
ek , jy - ons almal is 'n gedig.
Ons almal rym...
ons is net te moeilik om te verstaan
en nie altyd mooi nie.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
Holding on,
With the smallest glimmer of hope,
Finding ways to fight, deal or cope,
At 1st it seemed impossible
But slowly the realisation current issues were topical,
Lost friendships, breakdowns , communication errors and lack of self love,
One, two at a time or all of the above.
Dulling out the problems and hiding away,
Some amount of release when decided this way you did not want to stay.
Self belief,
fresh start, the one of new beginnings,
Learning to handle things before your mind starts spinning,
A release, you do not need others glorification to be worthy,
Worthy of love, respect, happiness, self security
A little motivation goes far, a focus just to start.
Look inside,
Reflection, a little self assessment,
The strength you had before
Somewhere inside you this is stored,
Make them changed necessary for you,
Stop allowing the colour which describes you to be the darkest blue.
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 4:32 PM UTC
Admiration is a word that comes to mind when I think about her work.
The seamstress only has to imagine and she can create a masterpiece of herself.
With every thread, button, and hem she tells a story.
She represents herself with every outfit. Her work molds to her every curve and bump.
She can move effortlessly and not worry about a tair
or loose string.
She can create herself into exactly who she wants to be.
And then there is me.
Who has to fight every zipper,
glare at every neckline,
and gripe at worn out areas that have rubbed and tugged to try and fit
my untamed figure.
The clothes that disguise me only entangle me
in a world of self hate and disappointment.
The number or letter on the tag become scars tattooed in my brain of three words:
not
skinny
enough.
I remember when a boy in line during the 4th grade called me fat ***
I remember when I was taken by my mother to a store that "might have things that fit better."
I remember looking at pictures of myself next to my friends and instantly comparing every inch of myself to theirs.
I remember when I looked at myself and thought, "maybe if you lost 20lbs. you would be attractive."
When the Seamstress looks in the mirror she sees a canvas.
A challenge.
A body that will fit herself.
When I look in the mirror I see a girl fighting to fit in her body.
I see those memories of hiding behind baggy sweaters.
I see countless dressing room breakdowns.
The seamstress must have harsh eyes.
She must have her own burden.
Her clothes may be her own, but is it all a disguise to hide herself too?
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 9:43 AM UTC
you hurt like ache
and adderall
and arnica
you hurt like bruises
and battle scars
and broken bones
you hurt like cuts
and *******
and countryside
you hurt like death
and destruction
and die-hard
you hurt like electricity
and emergency rooms
and edit-undo
you hurt like **** you's
and fire
and fallen trees
you hurt like garbage cans
and gonorrhea
and gang ****
you hurt like hell
and holes in the road
and heartache
you hurt like israel
and illness
and ignition fumes
you hurt like jaundice
and jugular veins
and jack in the box
you hurt like karma
and kissing
and kerosine lamps
you hurt like lightning
and love
and literary terms
you hurt like mother
and mary
and moses
you hurt like nakedness
and nosebleeds
and nervous breakdowns
you hurt like oil spills
and old yeller
and oral quizzes
you hurt like parkinson's
and parties
and panic
you hurt like queens
and questions
and quantum physics
you hurt like rogaine
and roses
and rope burn
you hurt like solar power
and stomach aches
and ***
you hurt like teeth cleanings
and tar
and tobacco
you hurt like ulcers
and underwear
and unrequited love
you hurt like viruses
and venus fly traps
and vapor rub
you hurt like warning signs
and weight gain
and war
you hurt like x-rays
and x marks the spot
and xoxo
you hurt like your mom
and your dad
and you
you hurt like zig zags
and zero
and zip ties
(a.m.c.)
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
...Pains...
...Cracks...
...Breakdowns...
...Broken...
...Shattered...
...Destroyed...
...Gone...
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
Dear Me a Year Ago,
If I did my math correctly you just started high school, and I'm going to tell you right up front it's going to be hell. But you are going to meet some of your closest friends this year, you are going to learn a lot, and you are going to change. You are going to have some of the best and worst moments of your life this year. But if I had to give you some advice, it would be this---
Laugh. Smile. Cry. Make mistakes. Then make more. But never make the same mistake twice. Step out of your comfort zone. If someone compliments you just say thank you. If someone waves to you wave back, this person may end up as your friend. Don't bottle things up. If you are scaring yourself go stay with a friend, don't be alone. Light **** on fire, trust me, it helps. When you find out your aunt has cancer don’t fear the worst. Don't take yourself, or others too seriously. Beware of ******** Don't live in the past, but don't live in the future either. If someone invites to do something, go. Don't hold on to those who've hurt you. Don't let anxiety rule your life. Know that there is still hope. If you need someone to talk to, message them, call them, anything, they will listen and it will help. Have emotional breakdowns. Then have more. Be yourself. Wear band shirts everyday if that makes you happy. Know that it's okay to be weak, and it's okay to be strong too. Know that there are people who care. Breathe. Remember the way it feels to be happy, because that will pull you through the worst days of your life. Keep playing guitar, you will start to **** less eventually. Listen you your music too loud. Remember relapse happens, and that's okay. Write ****** poetry, because that seems to help too. Break into abandoned places, just to see what’s inside. Drink copious amounts of coffee. Make stupid decisions.
But most importantly stay alive. I know this sounds cliche, butI promise things can get better, and I am still trying to get heal, and it's hard, and there are still days when I don't want to do this any longer, but it's getting easier to get out of bed in the morning. So keep fighting this, and never give in.
Sincerely,
A better you
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:08 PM UTC
Please don’t study for 21 hours and sleep only for 3,
Please don’t worry yourself into a panic about deadlines,
Please don’t lose yourself while worrying about the whole **** world,
Please don’t.
Pamper yourself, get that bubble bath,
Go buy a pint of ice-cream and watch that thing you like,
Block people who are negative, put photos up of your friends,
Self-care is important.
- Me, learning after a semester of breakdowns and lost hope.
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
I can't still believe it,
You are arriving to my side
And the night is a handful
Of stars and happiness.
I feel, taste, listen and see
Your face, your long step,
Your hands and, however,
I can't still believe it.
Your return has so much
In common with you and me,
That, because I guess it I say it,
And because of the doubts I sing it.
No one ever could replace you
And the most trivial things
Become fundamental,
Because you are arriving home,
However I still
Doubt of this good luck,
Because the pleasure of having you
Seems to me like a fantasy.
But you come and it is sure
And you come with your gaze,
And for that reason your arrival
Makes the future magic.
And although I have not always understood
My blames and my breakdowns,
On the other hand I know that in your arms
The world has sense.
And if I kiss the audacity
And the mystery of your lips
There won't be doubts nor misunderstandings,
I will love you much more.
Mario Benedetti
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
Random Sampling
Coughing up a lung,
sticking out my tongue.
Looking up her skirt,
dropped my pencil in the dirt.
Watching movies just for fun,
I will never own a gun.
Cat **** on the floor,
kicked it out the door.
Jake The Snake and The Macho Man,
will forever be a wresting fan.
Heavy metal and hard rock,
Skid Row's singer was Sebastian Bach.
New Jersey's pizza is the best,
it would beat New York's in any taste test.
Slept with girls, I didn't like,
soon after, I made them take a hike.
Never slept with a man,
if the money was right, I guess I can.
Love all my family and friends,
mess with them and I will defends.
Done some killer drugs,
stuck screwdrivers in some plugs.
I love paper, I love pen,
I'm more smart than the Three Wise Men.
Pina Colada's in Margaitaville,
then I take the bitter pill.
I still love eighties music,
it's relaxing and therapeutic.
Baseball is my favorite sport,
the Phillies, I will always support.
The next Super Bowl will be held in San Quentin,
***** girls take it on the chin.
I had a few nervous breakdowns,
I've put on a few to many pounds.
Allen does what Allen wants,
how's that for my final response.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 11:38 AM UTC
We are groups of people
made to hate
because of who we love
not what we stand for.
Did no one listen to
your parents?
You treat others how you want to be treated
not
throwing beer bottles
and whining when it misses their head
not
coming at them with a knife
because a man is holding a man's hand.
We are taught as kids
being gay isn't okay.
You could be a murderer
but you can't love another man.
Why?
Why
can't I love who I love.
People would rather
have a man dying alone
in the hospital
because his boyfriend of 35 years
isn't his husband
than letting love flourish.
People would rather **** us off
than understand.
People would have broken homes
where kids come home to beatings
their head shoved in an oven
*****
molested
beaten to a pulp
cigars burned out on their arms
and hit with beer bottles to
the point of being broken
than to let a happily loving couple of two men
to have that child.
They would rather see
a red sea of bodies
than to allow us
to live.
People would rather say
******
"fruitcake"
***
"fairy"
and watch their child slit his wrist
for every time he looks at a man
and feels a twinge of love
than to let him be happy.
They would rather torcher and torment children to the point
of mental breakdowns
rushing blood
soar throats
living alone
on the streets
no love
pretending.
Than to let them be them.
People love purple
that it means freedom
but I like the rainbow.
Rainbows have a million colours
and not one colour is quite the same hue.
No one hates rainbows
or the gorgeous colours it has.
Not many notice the differences
of them so,
why can't everyone
treat other people
like we're rainbows?
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
I wish I wrote the way I thought
Obsessively
Incessantly
With maddening hunger
I’d write to the point of suffocation
I’d write myself into nervous breakdowns
Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing
And I’d write about you
a lot more
than I should
-benedict smith
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 10:35 PM UTC
Rain was the only thing I remembered when we parted ways
Like a cloudy weather with a chance of raindrops for a day
Lost in your eyes but I have found heaven in your embrace
The only home I never got the courage to stay.
For once let the raindrop hit me for your love was my shelter
They thought I was best but the teardrops never made me better
Hit me a drop of rain before the breakdowns hit me first
like water in a hot sunny desert
in your love I thirst
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 10:05 PM UTC
hot baths, breakdowns, too close, too loud. lost, alone, confused, worthless. self-image, self-confidence, self-love. questions. "What do you want to be when you're older?" "Where are you going to college?" "How are your grades?"
How are my grades? How am I! I'm breaking down every night, crying in the shower, trashing the organized file cabinet of my mind, scouring every inch of my consciousness trying to find out who I am. Emotionally unstable. Lost. Mentally unstable. Lost.
Ask me how I am.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 5:39 PM UTC
Eighteen years.
Eighteen long years I've lived on this planet,
Slaving away as another conformist to most rules
(But only so I could survive
And get an education, despite the breakdowns
As my mind couldn't handle the pressure
Of today's expectations).
At times I thought I wouldn't make it;
My lows were... pretty low;
They sometimes cancelled out the highs completely,
Or at least made them seem not so high.
But somehow, I made it,
Along with all the other eighteen-year-olds.
And so I say, congratulations.
We made it.
We may be beaten, bruised, and battered,
Broken, cracked, and frayed,
But we're here.
Brace yourselves.
We're in for a whole new set of challenges.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 12:45 AM UTC
#
Piercing blue eyes
As though you can see the truth
A wide boyish smile
Barely at the prime of youth
Brown freckles that cover your face
I could trace the constellation
A void of stars coating the night sky
Creating whats deemed a wonderful sensation
On your 18th birthday
A year away from now
We shall cook ravioli together
You said you would teach me how
You wear fingerless gloves
Each and everyday
They double up as mittens
"I love them"
I would always say
Warm and cozy
Far to large for my hands
But they fit yours perfectly
Then again they are made for a man's
I'll still call you Smol boy
Even though you tower over me
I'm sure your use to it by now
After all I'm pretty crazy
Pure black coffee
With no sugar at all
A little bit of milk though
8-10 teaspoons if I recall
***Too bitter for my liking
I'll have enough sugar for the both of us***
You're an insomniac
Barely 2-3 hours a night
Its quite concerning
But you say your alright
I know your a lil over the edge
you're a fair bit mental
But your a dear friend of mine now
I'm sure you're actually quite gentle
I'll support you still
Even though I've barely skimmed the surface
There is still much more to uncover
And sure I'm a little nervous
Even maybe a little scared
But you're my Lil ravioli boy
So there is no reason to fear
Try not to be coy
I'll be there for all your sketchy antics
And all the mental breakdowns
And I hope you will be there for me
When my heart occasionally hits the ground
Though whatever happened through this
All the highs and the lows
I'll stand by you through it
No matter how steep the road
Lil Ravioli Boy
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 6:23 AM UTC
Getting out of one’s comfort zone,
Trying out travelling alone,
Making decisions that are risk-prone,
Is no doubt difficult - like trying to live without a phone!
Often leads to breakdowns,
Often makes one look like a clown
And often makes one frown.
But then if one doesn’t live for these things,
They are just like a bird without wings.
Even if their day-to-day life doesn’t sting,
They miss out on life and all that it brings.
Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 8:28 AM UTC
to my (future) husband,
as i sit and write this, i don't know if i've met you yet.
but i honestly hope i have.
if you're reading this,
thank you for honoring my ridiculous request
to do the final dance number that baby and johnny did from ***** dancing
at our wedding
(if we didn't do the lift, it's okay)
thank you for always being there.
through the breakdowns,
the rants,
all the bad.
thank you for always being there.
through the endless summers,
the sunny days that turned into fire lit nights,
the endless godfather marathons,
all the good.
i will always be there for you -
through all the bad
and all the good.
through your successes
and failures
i will be there.
and i will love you until the day i die.
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
N THE YEARS OF 1995 AND 2007, I WENT TO WORK AT
NORTHSOUTH COTRACTORS, AND I MET STEPHEN
VOLKS, AND HE WAS A VERY ENTHUIASTIC PERSON
ALWAYS WORKED HARD, DID THINGS HE SHOULDN’T DO
SOMETIMES, BUT STEVE VOLKS DIED AND HIS MOTHER
CRIED AT THE FUNERAL, AND STEVEN VOLKS HAS BEEN
REINCARNATED AS A CAT, LIVING NEXT DORR TO ME IN HAWKER
THE CATS NAME IS JADE, AND I LIKE JADE, AND JADE IS A REALLY
CUTE CAT, REMINDS ME OF VOLKI’S LAUGH AT NORTH SOUTH YA KNOW
I GOT ON WELL WITH VOLKI, AND NOW AS I SEE JADE ENTER MY
BALCONY, TRYING TO PULL MY SCREEN IN, YA SEE
YA SEE, AT LEAST STEVEN VOLKS, IS AT PEACE WITH BEN
MY NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR LOOKING AFTER IT WELL
YEAH AS JADE IS SEEN BY ME, I MUTTER TO MYSELF, HI VOLKI HOWS IT GOING
AND DAD AND ROBIN WILLIAMS, HAVE ENTERED THE ****** OF DAVID
AND LISA CAMPBELL AND LEO, WHO IS THEIR ELDEST BOY
WELL APPARENTLY HIS PREVIOUS LIFE WAS OLGA CHICK
AND I MADE SURE THAT DAD BROUGHT HIS AFTER LIFE TOYBOY ROBIN WILLIAMS
TO MEET WITH OLGA CHICK, YA SEE, THIS IS A PLOY TO BRING OLGA
TO DAD, OLGA WAS A WORKER AT VINNIES LIKE ME
AND SHE WORKED IN A BIG CAFETERIA, ONCE, AND
AFTER SHE DIED, AND SHE WAS A LOVELY LADY, A REALLY LOVELY LADY
AND SHE BECAME THE FIRST BORN OF DAVID AND LISA CAMPBELL
OLGA IS NOW LEO CAMPBELL, AND LEO IS GETTING TWIN SIBLINGS
DAD AND ROBIN WILLIAMS, REINCARNATIONS AS I WANTED DAD TO MEET OLGA
SHE IS SUPER NICE, AND I WANT DAVID LISA LEO TO MEET DAD AND ROBIN WILLIAMS SO THEIR SPIRITS DON’T STRAY
LIKE I DID, AND MANY OTHERS DID
I BELIEVE OLGA IS LEO CAMPBELL CAUSE I AM A BUDDHIST
AND STEVEN VOLKS IS JADE CAUSE I AM A BUDDHIST
STEVEN WANTS TO BE JADE, SO HE CAN CURE HIS SOUL FROM MENTAL BREAKDOWNS
OLGA AND STEVE, UMMMMMM, LEO AND JADE UMMMMM
UMMMMMM OLGA IS LEO, UMMMMMM STEVEN VOLKS IS JADE
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC
She's a beauty
I am her breakdowns.
She smiles,
I turn it upside down.
I am a force that can't be taken down.
Yes,I lied.She cries
Broken necklaces and rusted rings.
I tell her we'll be all right.
Broken, yet she sings.
She's a beauty.
I am her breakdowns.
When the world's screams,
I will drown the sounds.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 10:52 AM UTC