I feel like I should post something, so here. Quick life update: I'm currently freaking out, because on Friday, I learned that my good friend and sort of crush has a crush on me, or at least he used to. !!! Ahhh! He emailed me and said we'll talk on Monday, so I have to wait all weekend to find out whether he still likes me or not. I'm slowly going insane O.o 

Sorry for that little rant. Here's a screenshot of a poem!  

of mementos and desires

——

she wants to disappear,

to wink out like a distant star,

slow and fading,

become a tiny spot on the horizon, a

half-forgotten, half-noticed

spot, a radio blip, a

silence.

she wants to be gone but

doesn’t want to be worried about.

wants it to be that

for all you know she’s in colorado,

safe and happy and coming

back next year,

except she wants to go somewhere much farther than

the centennial state

and never come back.

she’s perfect perfect perfect,

but not good enough—

not for herself, not for you,

not for anyone.

she lies in bed at night with tears not-quite-dried

and decides that her life goal

is to be half of what

they think of her.

drying out ballpoint pens in

color order, a

purple notebook, a styrofoam bird,

a dented water bottle, countless soccer

team photos,

old ballet slippers—

small things, pointless things,

and yet they are her world.

screw everything else

she wants and ever wanted!

she just needs you back, needs her friend again.

you don’t need her.

she’s replaceable, finite,

and you’re surrounded

by a million other people,

better people, better other better other and

not her.

she might disappear someday.

recede into her thoughts far enough that she

can’t come out,

become a scared turtle and retreat into

easy things, easy people. you are her

biggest problem but also the

best solution.

you are difficult, but you are worth it,

worth the time, worth the pain— all of it.

for you, she won’t let herself disappear.

I'm crazy.

Be afraid

Will you love me for my blood, or the blood of others

Chain me up, tie me down 

Dangerous

only to myself

Please

What can I be in your eyes?

Disabled, broken

Make me beautiful, and I will kill for you

You will move, but I will not move with you

Why must you mock me?

Perhaps you will never know,

You need only listen to me

I'm crazy.

Weakling, the voices whisper.

Coward, you’ll never be enough.

When did this start?

when did the voices crowd inside my head, hateful thoughts

overpower the hopeful ones?  

Why shouldn’t I die?

Who would miss me?

Why should I care?

Why should you care?

it’s as though I have a mental block

preventing me from seeing that those who care about me do

tears

tears on the outside, rips and cracks and holes on the inside

Darkness

the light is an unrealistic ending, i tell myself

no matter how hard it is to admit I am wrong

and even though I cannot see it

’there is always light at the end of a tunnel’, they say in smooth voices, helpful, well-meaning words

how do you know?

Have you ever been down the dark tunnel?

Do you have any proof of this?

It seems farfetched to me.

I have been down the winding road of despair, and I will be again. 

And i have found that there is no light at the end of the tunnel 

because there is no end to the tunnel 

It’s tempting to fight alone, to convince ourselves that the only way to make ourselves stronger

is to be solitary

alone

but it isn’t

trusting other people is

not

weak

caring for other people

is

not

weak

having a mental illness, no matter how small, how large

is

not

weak

if anything, it means that you are stronger than people who have never had to deal with it

have never had to deal with the voice, the darkness, the despair, the daily struggle

they will never understand

they’ll help as best they can, some of them

and the others will run

hide. 

turn away

ignore them

if they are so afraid of you, then they are not worthy of knowing you.

the ones who care will lift you up

will make you smile again

will put good cheer into your heart, however brief

caring for yourself is not selfish

looking after yourself is not self-centered

and though there is no end to the tunnel,

you don’t have to walk it alone. 

on an empty stomach

i. some days i feel like i'm 

drinking in the silence 

or more like it's being poured

down my throat; sitting in 

empty cars, empty rooms

all gray matter and cold air  

ii. other days it's breathing in

noise like catching raindrops on 

your tongue-- only these droplets 

have a sort of bitter aftertaste

that you'll forget maybe some day

iii. but i'm running miles on an empty

stomach till my legs give out and i 

fall  

iv. because pretty hollow things break

every time  

~~~~

it's 1 am over here, but i'm out of my poetry slum! 

Another screenshot. XD i'm sorry for all the chessy love poems xoxo