We smile at how alike we are
And I wish I could keep us in this frame forever
This moment of warmth and content,
Of enough vulnerability to be open
Enough happiness to forget that
a shared tomorrow doesn’t belong to us.
In between the silences there are imaginary conversations,
where we share without pause or thought
Where we hand over our random and calculated without fear.
But we’re in this moment of penciling in our individual futures
And learning that love doesn’t make null our different realities
My mother calls me her dearest,
Kisses my hand and squeezes it gently.
She swears I’m surviving solely on her prayers
Because she’s not convinced there’s a quarter of enough food in my body
Not with all the hollowness in my collarbones
I have hit a roadblock in trying to use language to navigate my feelings
The same words that paves way, stands in my way
How do I distract myself from myself in order to free myself?
How do I use language against itself?
What comes after I have puked out the last sentence of distress?
Mother said to eat a little more
For Will shall take to Strength’s heels
So I buy time with unbalanced paragraphs and reluctant doodles,
Wait for the pressure that sparks the gag reflex
So I can vomit it all out.
In a progressive society,
mental health should sit on the right hand side of the health throne
But it is left behind like a disobedient child,
It is labeled as an excuse for the elite and lazy,
It is ignored till it equates to rot.
and when it ends up in front of a white coat –
you’ll be fortunate for them not to delegate their function to God.
So artists bleed like faulty faucets for the country,
in hopes that collectively, we can fix the leak.
Darling, hasn’t it been a good year?
Someone called you home and then moved houses
And your walls did not break down
Is that not proof that
you’re made of the hard stuff
that makes magic what it is?
Does it not make you want to chase out
these ghosts of people who do not deserve
the smell of your skin out of your body?
Does it not make you queen, again and again?
Darling it has been a good year, hasn’t it?
They thawed away your heart
and you didn’t melt into a ball of despair
Aren’t you just fucking amazing?
people and things break us beyond repair
And we write pretty lines about it
and call it poetry.
But it was never this pretty,
It was never this beautiful.
These words falling off pages gracefully
cost blood and tears.
They cost the bags under your eyes
you unwillingly carried around
They cost an urge to be invisible for just a moment
They cost sleepless nights and restless days
They cost wandering minds and hours drenched in sadness
And questioning all that you ever believed in.
People and things break us beyond repair
We write pretty lines about,
call it poetry
and pretend we are fine.
She was the reason why demons existed
They needed a starving soul to leech on
She wore her happiness like a for sale sign;
eager to give it away
She exposes her own sins
and nails herself to the cross
When life seems out of control
Anxiety cuddles you like you’re all it’s got
Your body acknowledges all the dysfunction
The slow burn of fear,
The unfurling of despair
The death of hope.
My love, allow the pain to visit.
Wallow, cry, rave;
But don’t forget to reflect and reassess.
Look back, you won’t turn to salt,
You deserve the steady comforting support that never wanes,
even if that support comes from you.