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Raquel Butler Sep 2019
I want to be your best friend
I want to lay on our backs staring at the ceiling
talking about everything and nothing
contemplating the meaning of life
thinking about what we had for breakfast
and remembering what we did last summer.
I want to be your best friend
I want to show up unannounced
and be welcomed home
invited to the dinner table
asked how my family is doing
fitting in right where we left off.
I want to be your best friend
I want to say whatever is on our mind
to be light and unrestrictive
hold your hand when you’re sad
calm you down when you're upset
wipe your tears and make you laugh right after
forever.
I want to be your best friend
I want to be your best friend
I want to be your best friend
Raquel Butler Sep 2018
:(:
It is dark
there is not enough sun here
to make you feel okay again
and you may be in the sunshine state
but your insides are the deep hollowed
the shadows cast on the cement
there is no reprieve
there is no intermission
there is just tired and exhausted and
falling too many times to count
constantly spiraling
constantly finding ways to survive
through this cycle
through this rough patch
it's the third time this week you've
cried yourself to sleep and its
only Tuesday morning
but somehow you remember that
even with each breaking feels like
so ******* close to the edge
that even though each falling feels
like you might never breathe again
somehow you remember that you
have been here so many times before
and there may be no reprieve
and there is definitely no intermission
but even though tired and exhausted and falling
you have survived this far
you may not be sure you'll ever
make it out of the shadows
but you're pretty **** sure
you'll keep on surviving anyway
this is about my personal experience with "depression"
Raquel Butler Aug 2018
I find it oddly reassuring,
to consume art that consists of sorrow.
The ability to create from a place of
deep distress,
to put words to feelings that go unnoticed.

There is comfort in knowing that
you are not alone in this,
that there are some who feel
the plight in your bones.
To not shy away from the hurt
that you feel,
To look inside yourself and
find that you are
not always happy to be here.

There is comfort in acknowledging
that you have been broken,
in understanding all the ways in
which you have been seared into.

Once you have felt comfort in
your darkest depths,
Once you have faced what has
pained your soul,
This is when you can finally
begin to heal.
Raquel Butler Mar 2018
How does one go upon forgiving
something they never faced?
Avoidance is a forbidden fruit that yields
only bitter aftertaste.
Do we mislead to be okay,
just to elude the debates?
Do we ignore the pain,
just to keep up the harmonious masquerades?
And these contradictions we face:
Of loving someone so much we
disregard our own aches,
even when they are those causal to this fate.
This is a forgiveness we do not create,
this is remembering what we cannot erase.
bloop here's another fire beat for you to eat
Raquel Butler Jan 2018
At this age you should be fine
You have a job and some friends and a lover
don't mention the classes your taking this semester
Its been at least 10 years since it ended
you can't quite remember the details of when
You've been trying to forget for so long
its like forgetting a pop song
but this isnt some cheerful
or happy up beat
this isnt lryics you'd like to repeat
See a little boy thought you were a toy
doctor and marriage his
script to ensure you took the
part in his play
You took the bait and obeyed
as long as you were quiet
You could play with his games
You never knew quite the problem with the
noise
until you grew older and your throat grew
a boulder
your lungs filled half way permanently hindered
You began to wonder what you had done wrong
If you had taught him the unrepeatable song
the one your tongue tied can't sputter
mixed up words
to a horrible song you remember
on repeat in the back of
A brain so set on forgetting
but the radio only plays your unrepeatable
songs
so many versions you cant possibly
escape any longer
the words bubble up your half filled throat
threatening to explode
the words that won't sing
and maybe it happened and maybe you broke
and maybe the melody won't ever be known
but you're still on surviving
so let it be known:
you aren't what you've been through,
but what you become.
tw
  Dec 2017 Raquel Butler
Hannah
I may
be soft
but at least
I’m not
afraid
of my own
skin.
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