Hopeless
There was a time where I used to hate feeling hopeful because it just seemed like every time I felt it, something terrible followed soon after. But that's life. These are the poems I wrote when I was in that pit.
When
When do we realize the truth of the world?
Is it when cartoons are replaced
With mass shootings and violence
Warning us of nuclear war
And which places to avoid
When do strangers
Become potential threats
Rather than potential friends
Jeopardizing our innocence
Our own sense of security
When do doctors appointments
Stop being about stickers and lollipops
And become bad news
Of deadly diseases
And declining life
When does my mind begin to lie?
The intrusive thoughts
The ones that lead me to believe
I am nothing
Discouraging my own capabilities
When do I begin to care
About my significance in the world
The invisible eyes upon me
Fearing a life I have not even
Begun to live
When do I become afraid?
Afraid of people
Of promise
Of possibility
Of my own perception
Ignorant Growth
With our lives changing,
Emotions exploding
Like canons,
And circling inside us
Like poison.
It drains us of energy,
Of excitement and motivation,
And in its place, leaving
Hurt, suffering, and confusion.
Just wanting to feel normal--
Like every morning
Isn't a challenge,
Like ever breath
Isn't a sigh.
Suffering is not strength.
Isolation is not independence.
Losing yourself is not growth.
Is it Healing?
Is it healing?
To lay until forever
Letting it settle
Believing some kind of force will save you
Is it healing?
To spite the world
When you've done nothing for it
When you do nothing for yourself
Is it healing?
To cry on the drive home
Admitting that you're hurt
Is it healing?
Sitting on a park bench,
As the sun warms the cold I never thought would end
As the blue bird hops around the base of a tree
As chirps drown out dead thoughts
As I write what I could never say aloud
In some random notebook I never paid any mind to
Is this healing?
Maybe not
Maybe a little
But it's a start
The Hope that Weighs
I've always hated feeling hopeful
Because when it's gone,
It's a hurt I wish I never had to feel again.
When it's whole,
There's a type of swelling in your chest
A brilliant surge of happiness, of hope
And it feels like the world is good;
That the pain thus far,
Has led to this long desired sigh of relief,
A feeling of safety of sorts.
And when it's gone, it's not an absence of feeling
But a weight that pulls me
With every breath, every step, every single possibility.
The ball of bright glistening hope
Begins to harden to the heaviest matter known to man,
Or sometimes
It's as if someone has gripped it tightly
With claws of despair,
Shredding it hope from hope
Until it is unrecognizable to anyone but me.
I can feel and remember what once was,
Of the person who had a new life brewing inside them,
And that sort of pain is worse than mourning or loss
Because the death still sits inside me
Wondering if it will ever be revived.
To Make You Proud
I have done everything
To make you proud, I will stress
To make you proud, I will put your wants
Before my needs
To make you proud, I will become unhappy
To make you proud, I will lose sight
Of the person I used to be
This line that separates us—
Of your expectations and my reality
Are blending together
The way ink mixes in water
Tell me where—
Where are my dreams and desires?
Where is my life?
How do I put myself before you
When I’ve done no such thing before?
Tell me please
You’ve only said everything else