Ironic don’t you think?
These wings instinctively move with the wind,
They’re slapping at my face
Hoping I fall from the sky
Pulling but I keep pushing
Must be hunting season
Feels like I’ve got a target on my back
Critics don’t cut me any slack
I just smile and keep writing
On my way to the top
It’s a lonely ride
But I’m not ready to stop.
Dear younger self
You’ve turned 18
Reached the pinnacle of adulthood, right?
Here’s a rolled up newspaper
Make sure you whack those wolves hard
They mean business
Out for blood
Be wary of those that are familiar
They’ll stab you in the heart, far faster than strangers
Oh, and believe me, not everyone has your best interests in mind
You’ll learn that lesson with time
Good luck, it’s a wild jungle out there.
Sing to me the song your mirror sings
Of copper tones
Flesh and bones
Of spirited, clipped wings
Of vinyl and aluminum
Can you fit your fingers in?
The two holes of the cassette tape?
The rod stem of the woodwinds?
They say a penny with a hole in it
Still plays a tune
If you dare to position your needle
On its bleeding wound
Tell me, do you prefer an audience?
Or an empty room?
Dare to tell them…at the very least
The bullet pierced right through
The music that raised us
Required human touch
Forbidden love…sweaty, gutsy lust
Yeah, sing to me that song
Like only you can
It’s your mirror after all
Your weekend. Your man.
Everyone is sharing this weekend with you
Looks like they’re sharing him too
But they can’t share the whiny croon…
…of the mirror image
That looks back at you
Only your soul
Can sing that tune
mental illnesses are romanticized
in books and movies
as something that makes you weak
but if someone falls in love with you
then it will all be hunky-dory
when the reality is Continue reading Romanticized Reality
Some things take time for you to appreciate its true value.
Late bloomer or not, a flower is admired for its beauty. Yet, the fragrance in its essence is what’s coveted.
⠀⠀⠀ Continue reading ESSENCE
I go to the hospital so often
with one undiagnosable illness
after the other
that I can recognise the doctors
and automatically know which department they work for
it only takes my mind a few seconds to place them
after all, they’ve all treated me at least three times
if not ten
my broken body was a toll so heavy
it broke my mind
morphed into mental illness
like humans shapeshift into lycans
except this change wasn’t mythical
-oh, how I wish it was mythical
What you hide
I cling to
To peel back the layers
That’s not fulfilling
I long to give you
I’m willing to chase
I’m willing to take my time to
Get to know
The best part of you…
I try to remind myself that recovery from trauma does not have to be linear. There are days or weeks where I feel stronger or “back to normal”. Like when I listen to Kesha’s new album while walking down the street and “Praying” comes on and I confidently yell back at men who make gross comments, feeling like a superhero in my timberlands and jean jacket I’ve stuffed with layers. Continue reading Non Linear Recovery
“Life waits for no one”, they said
So I ran
Shoes in one hand and my dreams in the other I ran for life to discover me and sprinted myself to exhaustion
No one told me that I could turn into my worst enemy against the clock of my own making
I am stuck – waiting for the car in the distance to stop running
Waiting for the engine to give out and release steam, unclogging my faulty brain and all the gears that have convinced me that I can not just give it a rest
Let me know when I can stop
When I can stop running after cars in the distance while I am panting out of breath due to unceasing timed tests Continue reading M.O. (Mode of Operation)
The Abstract Auto-Bio
The quietest noise I ever made, made a huge impact on paper. Or was the impact felt on canvas? I go in between mediums, like a medium? Okay, so I like double meanings. I am a lover of puns. I wish I could understand the complexities of my own mind. Let us travel into thoughts as they unravel.