Innasense
2020-10-10 09:54 pm
Warning: this is looooooong and if you’re a sensitive individual the first parts may bother you. But hopefully the last part will inspire you. Speak your truths friends. The ones who matter will love you all the harder. #worldmentalhealthday Hidden Stories They smiled, jokingly told her she looked tired, “Must’ve partied hard last night.” Smile quietly returned, “just didn’t sleep too well I guess.” She didn’t tell them how hard it was to get out of bed this morning, How sleep never came last night, How it felt like the darkness would just swallow her whole, How she felt hollow and empty and there weren’t any tears left, just an ache deep within that wouldn’t subside. And maybe if she just squeezed her eyes shut and stayed in that bed in the blacked out void, She wouldn’t have to face another day of faked smiles and “I’m ok” lies. “Just tired today I guess.” “It’s warm today man!” “What’s with the long sleeves all the time?” “Got some crazy tattoos under there?” He smiled, laughed along with them, Self-consciously ran his hands over his wrists. Over the bandages binding his secrets. They didn’t know how close he got last night, how he almost let go, How so much blood, HIS blood swirled down the drain, mixing with his tears. He was sure no one would miss him, but he wondered if he would miss this world, And the good days out in the sun, Few and far between as they were. What would they say if he were gone tomorrow? “You should’ve come out with us last night. You would’ve had so much fun...” She nodded and made those “next time” promises, though she knew they were lies. She’d stay home again, Wrapped in the icy grips of loneliness, Which felt somehow better than her burning cheeks when the right words just wouldn’t come, or the wrong ones spilled out, and she felt their eyes on her, Panic rising, thoughts frozen Wishing she’d just stayed home, Away from the judgement, And all the wrong moves she always made “Haven’t seen you around in a while! Doing ok?” His mouth smiled, head nodded, lips formed words he’d said so often, automatic. Because, really, he thought, How could I describe that moment last night, body curled up with forehead cold against the kitchen floor, Ears covered to block out the voices, Silent screams wracking his body as the panic overwhelmed him, No breath to speak, And who could he call anyway, How would he explain these moments of pure fear that slipped in unnoticed and become everything, took everything, until he was a shivering shell of himself. Sometimes he wondered, if they could see through him, would they think him weak? Would they walk away...? These people are all make-believe, but the experiences are not, taken from articles and discussions and sometimes even revelations from real-life friends. These are not my stories, but they are someone’s truths, Not their weakness, Not their short-lived sadness that they can just “get over” if you try hard enough to make them happy. (My gosh do I need to remind myself of that part sometimes...) But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. Love them y’all. Love them so damn much that you’ll sometimes break through the cracks in their self-inflicted armor. Listen to them, Give them the chance to be open and honest, And if what they say makes you flinch, imagine what it must feel like for them. Do something kind that makes them smile and get ready to do it again tomorrow. Smile and laugh with them. Cry with them. Be genuine with your thoughts and feelings. Give them space, but check on them. Pull them out of the dark for just a moment, say, “I’m here for you when you need me. And I always will be.” Mental health issues are often invisible, but still feel debilitating to the one inside that head. Stay educated. Be understanding. Love the hell out of each other. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎💗
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Gord
2020-09-11 05:58 am
Drinking Bowls and pitchers, like smoking coals and timber; If only bones could lift, Our home, save the children, Even buried having all gold and silver, Can an afterlife supply of groves and vineyards? Old and crippled, mouth of the old man dribbles, His eyes meet to eventually form a river; How can he romance with trombones and singers, When he sees and himself, groans and withers, Lays down again amongst the toads and lizards; Eyes hollow and wrinkled, bathrobe, slippers, Windows, the stones that hit them, now coal, Used to build all the roads and bridges.
crybaby
2020-08-20 11:24 am
8 years old playing with dolls marriage between thots never touched the boys then at school cool swimming pools putting on your clothes causes me to drool in 7th grade joined the parade thats the time i came out of the shade i regret not sleeping at that one night i said what we cant forget you pretend not knowing my face you never call me by my name i just need to know what’s under the snow what’s the name of the show that you play i wish i were straight or you were be gay if only you would lay down with me babe look me in the eyes like i look in yours kiss me on my mouth and i would be yours
Lynn
2020-07-21 01:31 am
devouring the skin inside my lip. of course, everything in the human body is connected. of course. staining the porcelain with blood and iron, iron and blood and water, the permutations of rust. my voice becomes sticky, sickly sweet - the performance of wellness thickened even further by blood. my crazy, concentrated and caustic, drains through my nose and onto my chin and onto my shirt and onto my hands and down the drain. “i wish the blood inside my mouth were yours”.
Gord
2020-06-18 02:23 am
I wrote the list upon my hand, because I was wont to forget. Memory was always a weakness, since birth I assume. I had since then learnt to cope. Would it rain? I wasn't sure, but I would be ready if it did. "Ready to go?" I heard a voice. I nodded, we were probably already late. It was dark outside, raining. The blacktop shimmered with the small bit of dwindling light that escaped through the clouds. The day was early but the day already felt long, characteristic of the gloomy weather. I opened the door, however, to sunlight beaming in my front door. "Great! Looks like it cleared up outside!" but all I could hear was the ocean. The noise of waves tossing themselves on the shore was overwhelming, their loudness filling the air. "Are you alright?" I snapped back into reality. I assured myself I was fine, just lost in thought as usual. I tried to make myself more comfortable by focusing on the inviting weather, although I was visibly nervous. I felt like something bad was going to happen. My foot stepped to the concrete, bending the leather of my shoes and causing them to crease. We walk beside one another in a peaceful silence toward the bus stop, eyes trained on the puddles of the sidewalk. My foot lifted for another step and as it comes back down to reach the water, I felt a wind rush past. I looked up, and I found myself all alone. Once again, I felt the rain upon my face.
Gord
2020-06-04 12:25 am
The toad speaks, the mind sees, The mouse squeaks of menses; Too high to sleep, ego flying, Does one write lines on sheets? Scribble perfection, or deny? Fights cannot be won, only survived. Poet, please give me writing, Forced to be, I need power to fight.
Gord
2020-04-21 07:02 am
On and on, Although my hands, they shake, Play with plants, on steaks, How am I to find my place? How am I to file down pane, File down pain, or file alone again? My violin is made from wood and string, My heart is filled from blood for simple things, Like dimples and rings, Like a simpleton's dreams.
Lynn
2020-03-10 01:22 pm
if you round up, i am a lesbian. if you round down, i am still a lesbian, just a little less. do you know if love has a definition, an concrete interpretation? how do i explain the terror in my chest when i look in your face? i do not know what it feels like to love and be loved. unconditionally, that is. i imagine that not all kisses go well. would you like to test that hypothesis? of course i am honest with you. what other choice do i have? this is more sincere than poetry. anything could be more sincere than poetry.
Gord
2020-02-13 04:33 am
Who was I to write down? Key turns loud, however, The key turns around. Free me of my bounds, I can free you of yours, My art, part astounding, Mostly aster pounding, Hoping for brighter pink. Who am I to press down? Pestle grinds slow, A Mind grinds slower, Eventual beach polluted, The key turns around, It says: "Free me of these clownfish, acting clownish and catfish. Art is only partly a mish, Mostly is unequalled feeling." His art, part niche, Part for seating, Parts for kings, rich, Parts for heathens. Parts to reason other parts, Written partly to see them.
Gord
2019-09-18 08:22 am
Leased bells, music borrowed, Please, tell me of tomorrow, Of swallows leaving belfries, How else can my ears will, Until I hear their sorrow? Peter, son my lover callous, Draperies and linen, down, Failure? This linebacker asks, Just throw my ball, pass, Runs forever to never catch, How will I know his sorrow? Unless he is, as a tinder match, Tender lover of impossible tasks, Inflamed tether, ball impassible, Gasoline for the man who hits.
missa
2019-05-04 09:33 pm
-What am i supposed to do? When the life i want is just within my grasp. When the shadow of me won't let go of the past. I can "almost" see them Lear...Taunting...Mocking me, as i start to feel F****** near.... See any clear.... "Fear..?....us... Just follow us down this rabbit hole... Right into your comfort zone. We will show you how disposable you really are! It's not that far.."
Gord
2019-01-11 06:34 am
A Barrie kid grows, A ferry, stone's throw, Parry sound, Toronto, Pound it out, big smoke. This season I'll move downtown, City planners dictate high spots, How? Do they sell drugs now? They only make dumps, dry drops, Build highways on your houses, Hope the best for us. Eyes water, why bother? Save yourself a level of honor, Tomorrow it will be your brother.
The Sophist
2018-07-30 11:53 pm
Just getting laughs from the old guard now Epitaph in town for an old sound It's jokes, man How much we fuck around This place This time Joy that I have found Do a flip Throw a lock Knock 'em down
Okileng
2018-07-22 10:04 pm
HI……… It’s about a half past midnight The time I always get my brain thinking of you Actually i don’t know if I just get my head thinking of you or you get in my head for me to think of you Six years down this hard life there is not a day I haven’t done that Its routinal it has to happen I hate you for hating me that much I know we all drowned but we didn’t die The silence gets louder and I am forced to think you’re not part of me any more But is that real Are the vows broken that easily The bonds we built every other time our lips touched Are they shattered that easily I don’t hate that you found love again Actually I too tried to find some one Though it didn’t just work out But I hate the way you keep silent on me Give a hi a day u don’t know how high that would lift me a day So if you loved me as u said u did some time Can you please share a second of your time with me a day Just to be sure we wish merry for each other Though it didn’t work between us GOODWINZ TIMOTHY
Karabo R
2018-07-15 03:03 pm
I am not my Faults I am not my Darkness I am not my Fears I am not my Chaos I am not my downfall I am not my Failure I am not my Regrets I am not my Mistakes I am not my Wrongs I am not my storms I am not my Difficult I am not my Sins I am not my Demons I am definitely not my Past but I am "ME" and that's all I am,all I have,all is,all that will..."Me" #Poetic Genetics _Karabo R
Mata
2018-07-15 11:52 am
Go ahead laugh,smirk do or say what you are going to do..i wont and cant stop you..its ok and except that im the fool..you have proved yourself out as the klown..as you thought you were cool,walking around claiming to be down..at the time you knew you bad me fooled,i already had the clue;you never or knew how to be true..but its all good cuz who am i to judge?iam able to at least except tbat i chose to be the fool..and to sit back in the crowd n enjoy the show;rather than wanting to be the ringleader and run the show..while you were in the streets claiming to be down and believing to be on the grind;im the"REAL WORLD" of reality you were doin what a ring leader does...marching around advertizing"the circus is in town"..but its ok in your own unrealistic world to believe in what you see and who you claim to be..so im willing to settle with compromise instead of regret..at least have a lil respect to turn our backs to each other and walk away and live in our own realistic world.. MATILDA MADRID
Tina Marie
2018-02-20 03:12 pm
As I looked into my mirror one day, I could see, that a sad little girl was looking at me. I said to this child where is your smile? Through tears she replied, "Can we talk for a while? Your mommy is dead. They took your daddy away. I don't know how you face your mirror everyday?" Besides the lump in my throat, I also felt, a tear trickled down as my heart begin to melt. Sweet Child you see, it is hard to explain, how people can hurt you and cause you such pain. but if you believe that God sent us Jesus his son, you can face everyday and you won't have to run. So smile little girl there is a whole new world of love and happiness and a brand new start, the moment you ask Jesus to come into your heart. Looking deeper yet, into my mirror I could see, that this sad little girl looked exactly like me.
Gord
2017-09-20 04:07 pm
So sits a homely giant, Face sagged into manic, Stone eyelids and mask, Seeing the world as past, He undoes his passing; Leaving literal caves, Only breaching a cage, Mitigating his laugh, He upstages his own fate, Teaching pupils who stay afraid, Egg on his dress, Stag of the forest, Unwashed, unclean. Walls silver and platinum, A giant horse still gaits, Walks circles then defecates, Sleeping soundly until dawn; Enemies however struck down, Their laughter an afterthought, Justly he can run far, fast, Never figuring in absence, Filling him with maxims silly, Father pays the bills, He lives simply. Simply living a masquerade, To hide a face so pimply.
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