My thoughts, so many Hung like strings Dripping a quality I could not pinpoint I felt at this moment I must bear fully The abrupt pains They presented Like unwelcome visitors Of the utmost distinction Like fraying golden threads In a very important seam However, I couldn’t shake The scheming I felt Attached to…
I feel liquid Flowing Further away From solid Emotions drift Muscles relax And I escape For a moment Deeper into you
I woke up after a long night of tossing and turning. Dreams of self-hate, disrespect, mistrust and betrayal. It felt… familiar. Like the beginning of something I still had control of. Once I woke I identified the core feelings I needed to work on. Now I’ll work through them and get a nap later. Depression…
I sit most of my day Looking at you I’m dependent on you The only person That cares about you You hold so much info I’d be totally lost Completely confused Up a muddy creek If anything happened To the intelligence You possess You hold the lock And I literally Hold the key
It was an early December morning and I was hungover. I had far too much to drink the night before for someone who hardly ever drank. I remember walking outside to cool off and sitting in the snow. It seemed a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Little did I know the next morning was going…
Poetry taught me to listen to my own tears. Decipher why I felt what I felt. It helped me hold onto myself during my darkest fights with depression. If you could write a love letter to poetry what would it say? Feel free to write one and leave a link to it in my comment…
I’ve always felt like a small piece Like there is a place waiting For the exact right shape To fit within its little void I feel a part of the sun Of the swaying trees Of the raging storms And the crashing sea A part of so many things But never fully have I fit…
The days slowly crawl From sunrise to sunset The same words echo Until they fall silent The sky mourns us With determined drops That fall heavy Even maybe a bit angry At our solitude Because Even heaven understands Our torment at being apart
I saw a butterfly/moth on my bedroom window screen. It was beautiful. I’m glad for the day. For the steps I’ll take. For my daughter and for my person. For my family and friends. Recognizing the beauty in the day. That’s hard for some of us. It takes practice. Today I am finding beauty in…
I was thinking about our ancestors. All of them. The cultures and the sacrifices made for the good of the next to come. And who we are now. What we will leave behind. My dreams Turned into fiery butterflies Colorful pin points of light Dancing free among stars Until a strong wind came And blew…
