Dailyish Dose of Poetry #6

**This post is not suitable for everyone. Please use discretion as the following post might contain your personal triggers.**

Infectious- (December 2016)

You’re worthless.

You’re a fuckup.

You can’t do that because you’re stupid.

Nobody likes you.

He will never date you.

She will never love you.

You should kill yourself.

No one will miss you.

She won’t care.

He won’t care.

They’re lying to you.

They are always lying to you.

They don’t care that you’re hurting.

They don’t care that you’re dying.

You try and cancel all of your appointments.

You don’t need them.

You’ll be dead soon anyways.

But when you say that to your friends they stop you.

You need to go.

We want you to be healthy.

They care about your health.

They love you.

But sometimes it’s not enough.

But at the same time you start to imagine.

You see their faces when they find out.

You see the disbelief in their eyes.

The hurt in their hearts.

You see them cry.

But then you see them happy.

You see the burden lifted from their shoulders.

Depression is infectious and they almost caught it too.

Until you did the right thing to do.

Daily(ish) Dose of Poetry #5

**Please Note that this poem might not be suitable for everyone. It contains the following sensitive subjects: suicidal ideation and depression. **

I Wrote Them Today-

 

You don’t know this, but I wrote my suicide note today.

I wrote it while I was sitting on the couch in the green room.

I wrote several, there’s one for you, A, and M.

There’s one for my bestie from Cali.

There’s one for my mom and dad.

There’s one for the president.

There’s one for my sister.

I wrote my suicide notes while I was happy.

I wrote them so that you would feel good vibes while reading it.

I wrote them without intent.

I won’t do this to you today, tomorrow, or the next day.

But it’s always on my mind.

I try to stay happy around you.

I know that sometimes it works.

You believe me.

But I know that you can feel the underlying tension in my laugh, my smile, my heart.

I know that you see me as I slowly stop eating.

You see me losing interest in my life.

I know you get frustrated with me but I don’t mean to hurt you.

I wrote my suicide note today and I hope you know that I never meant to hurt you.

I wrote them because I didn’t know if I would have time before I lost my sense of literacy

I wrote them because you need to know.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

Goodbye.

 

They are in my red journal. They are always with me.

I wrote them on December 9th.

I wrote them with you beside me.

A few days later, you were furious with me.

I reread your letter.

I knew that when you read it you would start to cry.

I almost tore it out.

But I needed you out of everyone to read it.

So it’s still there.

Wrapped in red.

I wrote my suicide note today, in the hopes that I’ll soon be dead.

Daily(ish) Dose of Poetry #4

**Please Note that this poem might not be suitable for everyone. It contains the following sensitive subjects: death, depression, and soldiers. **

Matt- (November 22,2016)

Mom was singing in the kitchen

Baking pies.

Fall was in the air as thanksgiving drew near.

There was a hush over the house as no one was rushed but unknowingly there was a flurry outside.

Footsteps were muffled by the snow  

We were laughing and singing when out of the blue a few short knocks shocked us out of our glee.

The pies went forgotten as mom walked to the door then turned to me with fear in her eyes.

Go to your room was her curt response as she followed me there with her eyes.

As I walked in my room she opened the door and welcomed the unwelcome guests.

A sheriff and a soldier looked over her shoulder and looked at me with sorrow.

I closed my door then stayed very close as my mom woke up my dad.

Hurry up she said with a sense of dread and my heart dropped to the floor.

The Mumbles outside turned to cries as the world was pulled from under me.

The words I heard I hoped were wrong and I was crying as well.

My mom must have heard as she burst through my door and held me as she uttered the words.

My best friend was dead and everyone said that he was still there inside my heart.

But my heart was crushed and I felt quite rushed as people told me to be okay.

Within three weeks my soul decreased to a mess of emotions and dread as I continued to live a life drifting by with a hole in my heart all day.

People said it would get easier but as time goes on I grow queasier at the thoughts of him being gone.

I guess that’s why I feel so depressed as the dreadful day grows near.

November 22nd forever distracting me as the greyist day of my life.

Maybe one day the pain will go away but maybe the day won’t come.

Forever in my heart I’ll fall apart as my brother lives in my mind.

Journal Post

It’s 4 o’clock in the afternoon and I’m sitting here. I’ve got a killer headache and I think I know why. I took three pills last night. That’s more than I’m supposed to take. I’m only supposed to take 1/2 of a pill. I don’t know what convinced me to take so much. I felt good though. It’s almost like I was using it as a replacement for food. I think that’s what it might have been. I was upset and I don’t know why. I took the pills and I think the only thing I had to eat all day was a bite of a banana and a spoon of peanut butter. I guess I’m just a wreck. I also self harmed. It was bad. I don’t know why that had to happen.

Dose of Poetry #3

New Year Musings

Welcome to 2017.

It’s a place that I don’t know yet.

It scares me a little.

The days are filled with dread as we near the ending of an era.

The era of gaining rights for LGBTQ+.

The era of the country getting a little less filled with hatred.

We are entering an era of losing what we fought for.

Losing the things that matter most.

We are finding that a lot of the world is starting to hate even more.

The racism, sexism, homophobia, and religion hating world is becoming more alive.

January 20th is getting closer and while I would love to be celebrating, I will be fearing what’s to come in the next four years.

My birthday will proceed in a weekend filled with dread.

A weekend where someone will come into immense power.

A power that I don’t think he can handle with grace and tact.

My first year out of my teens will be uncomfortable as I try to figure out who I am while the country does the same.

It’s going to be an interesting one.

Pray for the country, pray for the souls, pray for our rights.

It’s time to fight for our lives.

Daily Dose of Poetry #2

**Please Note that this poem might not be suitable for everyone. It contains the following sensitive subjects: self-injury and suicide. **

Sliced- November 2016

It’s silent through the house.

No one is awake except her.

She has tears flowing down her face as she stares at herself with hatred.

She hates her smile, laugh, figure.

She hates her voice, frown, and hair.

She hates the person she has become.

She hates the person she was.

She just hates herself.

Her emotions are flowing freely because of the darkness that is over her.

The darkness that consumes her.

She has two little friends that smile at her with a sharpness that drew her breath.

Their invitation pulling her closer.

Just one kiss is all they want.

But one becomes two and becomes three.

Then she starts to crave it.

She becomes emotionless as the kisses leave her arms red.

Her emotions pouring out with the blood that drips like water from the faucet.

She goes deeper and deeper until it starts pouring faster until her head starts to feel light.

She smiles with glee as her emotions have turned off until she suddenly starts to feel again.

The two little blades call out to her soul until she sees nothingness again.

The blood rushes faster as her laughter startles the silent night.

Her piercing laugh wakes her family out of their slumber and they all look around for the light.

Seeing none they return to their soft little cocoon and rise sometime again around noon.

They wake with a start as someone yells that her heart was cut up and lying on her sleeve.

The little ones holler as they see the slaughter of their favorite aunt in all of her pain and despair.

The wails become louder as they feel they could have bothered to check in instead of leaving her be.

The death that they see makes them long for the glee that used to come from her broken little soul.

But no one had noticed the slices that showed when she had the courage to wear short sleeves.

Her slices were precise like how she cut her pie and no one has questioned those lines.

Now she’s bled out because of the shouts that caused her so much pain and grief.

No one had questioned her as she stood and left as everyone finished their meal.

Their uneducated thoughts really left her distraught and because of that she’s dead.

Now they’re all crying because they think they’re deserving of feeling her grief and pain.

But from where she’s floating she feels like gloating because she’s finally free.

Daily Dose of Poetry #1

**Please Note that this poem might not be suitable for everyone. It contains the following sensitive subjects: self-injury, rape, suffocation, and suicide. **

Tiny Towns- November 26th, 2016

The pavement is cracked.

The stores are tired.

We live in a two step town.

The streetlights flicker as the sun rises up and the streets are frightfully quiet.

As we line up to run we start to see the sun and the town looks more grim and old.

The change that some want others can’t stand and they don’t know how to respond.

The 5K starts and we start to run and try to win the race.

My heart starts to flutter and mind starts to stutter as I look at the places I’ve known.

The place I had my very first kiss and the place where I started getting sad.

The places that I loved to eat until the sight of food made me gag.

My legs grow heavy as i see the many places that have grown so foreign to me.

Where I went to my first dance and got my first lead and where I started to bleed.

The memories were crashing until at last I couldn’t even try to breathe.

This two step town is suffocating me and I can do anything but run.

I run until my lungs can’t feel becoming numb as my heart tries to heal.

But the scars have reopened and my heart starts to bleed as the memories start to impede on my freedom and speed.

My gait starts to slow as I run out of air and I start to taste the darkness of the pale morning light.

The finish line is nearing but I can’t try to hear as someone calls my name.

My mind is getting louder and the cool winter showers are making it hard to see.

There’s a glint in my pocket and a thought that suddenly rockets right out and into my head.

The one clear sound shocks me until I can breathe and the glint is now in my hand.

The two little lines that I’ve drawn on my skin makes everything come into perspective.

This two step town is trying to kill me and I’m trying to get out not dead.

My heart is pounding and the feelings are confounding me leaving me filled with dread.

I wonder if anyone else has lost sight and knows what it feels like to be dead.

The town is making me sick and I can’t quite restrict any other feelings that I have.

The feelings overwhelm and I know that soon I’ll finally be free to go.

But first one more trip down memory lane will send me right over the edge.

I said no, I cry, as we drive right by where my friend had left me alive.

Alive to suffer the mental repercussions of a man not knowing “no”.

My body begins to shake as I see firsthand the place where he took me.

It’s a sorrowful reminder of the reasons that I left and can’t handle the days of dread.

Those days that now lay ahead as I try and heal again.

My heart beats faster as we drive right past the places I tried to die.

All of the memories coming after me and the words that spew through my head.

Delectable, ripe, ready to pick, a cherry that soon will be mine.

What do you say to me slut, call me daddy, call yourself mine.

I own you and you know that I can’t wait to have what is mine.

Take off your panties, take off your clothes, hurry up now it’s time to go.

You have to go back to school soon, but now it’s time to learn a lesson.

A lesson in how to pleasure a man and remember, you can’t say no.