my mind can’t understand how my heart can feel so much pain but feel nothing at all / my heart can’t understand how my mind can make my whole body want to quit / all the heart wants is to keep me alive and it fights for me / but / i don’t understand why the universe has the funniest way of torturing me when I crave peace the most / it’s as if i am drowning fighting death on the bottom of the ocean but all you see are coral sunsets and calm waters while you breath perfect salty air / you don’t see me / you’re blessed with beautiful eyes but they are blind
as i find my eyelids weighing heavier than the thoughts on my mind, i wish i could make it all stop. not in the way you might think. sometimes in that way, but mostly in the way that would give me a break from my emptiness without anyone knowing i needed a break. it was hard to feel and wail and gulp back my tears but it’s even harder to feel numbness consume my heart. i haven’t written lately. not because i haven’t been craving it but because the words don’t come as easily anymore. for someone who uses poetry to empty out the damaging thoughts, this is an unspeakable loss. but right now i don’t want that permanent break i sometimes think about…i hope i find my light again soon.
my emotions make themselves known by pumping my blood faster and faster until my breath can’t keep up any longer and my head seems to forget its place during the day is under the sun, not rested on a pillow in my blackened room
my emotions spiral themselves around the bagel i brought myself to eat and i can’t help but wonder how it would be to live without an urge to reintroduce my finger to my throat and let them dance around for awhile
my family says to control my emotions but i keep letting my emotions control me until they burst out of my dirt-colored eyes, creating a muddy monsoon that sweeps up any sliver of hope and rushes it away with all of the people who tell me i’m a liability
maybe the problem is me because my days of the week pill container is full of chemical happiness but my heart remains empty, longing for the days when my nervous system did not rely on prescriptions to stay alive
as i resist the temptation to let my anger swallow me whole, my lilac manicured nails fight the urge to make drawings on my skin that has been broken too many times to remember
my emotions continue to control me
and i don’t want to remember any of it at all.
I’m losing my grip on everything I’ve ever held close, not sure how to grasp onto things that are slipping through my fingers like the crumbles of dirt from which the person I am becoming is growing
The temptation to cut off what is dragging me down and watch it fall to the floor with six inch locks of my fiery hair is consuming me more than any heartbreak ever did. To finally have control over something in my life would be my greatest feat, even if it’s just for a moment.
It is difficult to understand how I can mourn my old self and also long to make everything new. To start over, forget who I am and focus on who I am becoming. I don’t know how to live a life of self-love, but God knows I’m trying. This October, I hope I can look in the mirror and smile, knowing I’m well on my way to a happy heart and some semblance of bliss.
little potted plants
and a bleeding heart
my favorite sweater
and tear stains
how terrifying it is to
be in a place so safe
but feel so
i am from pigtails and plaid skirts and penny loafers with a lucky penny slipped inside
i am from therapy sessions and pill bottles stacked up in the closet
i am from sleepovers and ice cream dates and striving for perfect scores
i am from wet pillowcases and puffy morning eyes
i am from long walks with good music and running to pound away my thoughts
i am from scales and calculating the caloric value of a grape
i am from family dinners with jeopardy as background noise
i am from grieving three losses and praying i wouldn’t be the next
i am from writing and target runs and sleeping til noon
i am from whispers and name calling and sweeping sorrows under the perfect expensive rug
i am from shopping and reality tv and historical debates
i am from covering up the damage i have done to myself with sleeves and a smile
i am from the light and the dark
i am from always waiting for the sun
There are no words in any language to describe the feeling I get in my chest, like something awful is happening even though I’m halfway through a laugh with my friends.
I hate the way my throat grows a lump big enough that I swear it could crush my entire body. Sometimes I wish it would, because God knows it’s already crushing my spirit.
I’ll never understand how I can stare at a wall and feel so empty, so hollow, yet feel everything all at once. Underwhelmed yet overwhelmed by life at the same time.
I don’t know how I can sit across from a person every week, protected by four comforting walls and a promise, divulging every nook and cranny of my mind, yet still feel like I am losing control.
I can’t comprehend why it brings me comfort to cause my body pain. How a sting can feel like relief. Like the hurt is flowing out of me, yet regret and disappointed rage in.
And so the cycle continues.
my whole life,you’ve wanted me smaller
my ambition is too much
my thighs are too much
my brain is too much
you try and try to shrink me
but i refuse to get in your box
i can only imagine how much you hated that i made you heavy
you carried me those nine months
but i’ll carry this demon a lifetime
-i’m sorry, mom
i can feel the bricks piling onto my chest
my shoulders weighed down and sluggish
my legs turn weak
and it’s taking everything
not to fall back to the bottom
the heartbreak and pain
were not accidents
for they led me down a narrow trail
accompanied by old monsters
lonely and shattered,
i fought them off
there i was,
winding through the forest and crawling through the gravel
on an isolated and dangerous path
that led me right to you
and to myself