Reality's EdgeI know that a lot of people tend to believe that mirrors are a certain kind of portal to another world; a world that was just like ours, yet somewhat... corrupted. Just a little bit out of place. It all looked the same; there wasn't a thing out of place. And yet, still, there would always be that feeling as if something weren't quite right, not quite the way it should be. Like the way one might feel when they knew they were supposed to remember something but couldn't remember exactly what. I always figured it might feel like that.But that's not all of it. Some people also believe that that reflection in the mirror, that one that looks just like you, isn't you at all. It's some sort of monster. One that wants nothing more than to trade places with you so you will live the rest of your life in the corrupted world and so it can live your life, steal your real friends, real family, and you know what will happen? You'll become that reflection. You'll simply be mirroring the life of that th
A PoemA PoemHappy,Sad,Depressed,Angry,Excited,Dead.Always changing, never the same;Always different, but always vibrant.Not a day goes byWhen she's not being completely,Honestly,TotallyHerself.This is a poemAbout someone who will neverIn their lifeBe someone who they aren't.
Falling ApartFalling apart,Breaking down,I'd like to say I don't deserve itBut I do.
Out of TimeCan you feel it, I wonder?The sand that slowly slips away.The inexorable march of time,Ticking away at you,Piece by piece.You crumble.Regret, anguish; there is no joy in what comes.All you have left are 'what if' memories,Eating away at you, like maggots on the skin.So deep was the pain inside of you,So bitter the desire for change;You even came crawling back to me,Begging for another chance.I wonder,Shall I give it to you?
i'm sorry for only writing sad things,but saturday night i wanted to offend godinto listening to just one line- needed to drag someoneinto hearing the roar between my ears with me.i'd like to write something you can put music to-lyrical and pretty. funny. maybe irreverent.but today what is most real to meis not laughter. it is feeling short of breath.empty of poetic language. unfunny. too longfor a limerick. unsuited to sonnets. musical only in the slamming of my heart. an erratic beatat best. endings. comparing crises of the mindto someone throwing up in the bathroomafter too much beer pong and hard rock-both are shameful to repeat in therapyand i feel like i cannot stop ruining parties. needing steady hands for these atlas shouldersthat will not relax. staircases white likeimagined hospitals. thinking i should saycall me an ambulance. crying. not callingan ambulance. not calling a taxi, i can't calla taxi, i don't have money for a taxi, holdingmy breath. 4, 7, 4. 4, 7, 4. in.
Feel like shit? Read this. Hey you. Yeah you, reading this right now at this very moment. You are awesome. No, really, you are. You may not believe me, but it's true. You don't see it because you're upset right now. Whatever you're going through right now, whatever has upset you or turned your life upside down, just know that it won't last forever. Nothing good lasts forever, that's true, but nothing bad lasts forever too. Eventually whatever you're going through will pass, you'll move on through healing over time, and you'll be able to be happy again someday, don't worry. As long as you don't give up. You may never completely get over it, or it may take years or more to move on from, but I can promise as time goes on the pain will become less and less. It may feel like no one gives a fuck about you, and you may want to give up on living, but please don't. I can promise atleast one person out there gives a fuck. And if no one does, then I do. If you have no friends, I ca
They'll Write Dysphoria On My HeadstoneIf the journey to happiness appearedas easy as we make it seem,then I doubt our entire world wouldbe suffering.Happiness is not a drug that can be forcedinto our mouths,when our situation is dousedin fire that erodes us from the inside out.It takes a village to mend a village,a home to mend a home,though when the house is against one,they start to feel alone.Happiness can't be achieved,when you're not acknowledged for you.When your pronouns are erased,when they start to misgender you.Suddenly its your fault thatyou suffer from anxiety.Suddenly, you're to blamewhen depression seizes you tightly.Suicide is around the corner,you want it every day,but there's that one importantperson.And for them, you must stay.Though love can only last so long,and our light will eventually fade.Because though you continue to fight,depression can take you away.Your “parents” force you to be their minions,strip you of your independence.The beings that should accept
DoneI'm done with being who you want me to be,Cuz I can't be that person anymore .I need to spread my wings,I need to be who I really am,I'm done with being the doormat,I'm done with saying yes when I really wanna say no!I'm done with hiding behind my walls and mask,I wanna fly,I wanna fight for who I am inside .I won't bow down anymore,I won't break if I fall.I will rise.
FineI walked home in the middle of the street again,with the listless pumping forward that comes from muscles hollowed out -I didn't care if the cars hit me.I wasn't seeking death I just stopped actively avoiding it again,I just walkedwith the restless wondering about headlights and obituariesand the questions about whether or not I'd be loved once I did the world the favourof not being so inconvenient as to continue to breathe.If I could swim home in the malaise, or if I could be struck downinto a sudden and permanent state of something other than depression -either would be fine...Either would be fine.
Wasting Time and TearsDo you know how many tears I have wastedOn you, because you left?But then you come back, and everything is happy again,For a while.Then you leave again,And I cry.I just keep wasting tears, don't I?