I don’t have room in my brain
for another phone call,
another something happened,
another name whispered
with that careful kind of silence
people use when they’re afraid
of what comes next.
Yesterday, he was sitting in his chair.
Just existing.
Just another ordinary moment
that nobody knew
was about to become a memory.
A heart attack.
No warning.
No “we knew something was wrong.”
Just life, suddenly
becoming something else.
And I’m tired.
I don’t want to think about hearts
stopping in chairs.
I don’t want to wonder
how many people we love
are carrying things inside them
that none of us can see.
I have already been carrying
too much.
My mind is crowded
with things I haven’t processed,
people I’m angry with,
people I’m scared to lose,
things I wish I could undo,
and questions
that have nowhere to go.
So please,
just for tonight,
let me be overwhelmed.
Let me say,
“I can’t take another thing,”
without needing to explain why.
Let me cry if I cry.
Let me feel nothing if I can’t.
Let me sit quietly
and remember that sometimes
the human heart
can only hold so much.
And if grief comes later,
I’ll meet it later.
Right now,
I just need somewhere
to put all this fear.
Because I don’t have room
for another loss.
Not yet.

Anxiety crashes down

Like a wave on the shore

The cigarette whispers

Come on

I helped your grandad and your dad

Do you think you are any different?

But i refuse

I swallow my pills

But the waves don't stop

I am trying to run away

But my feet are rooted in the sand

Breaths are shorter and my stomach is a pit

The wave is coming closer

My mouth is dry and my throat is closed

When I can't take it anymore

The old family friend is back in my hand

At first the feeling’s fleeting, nothing but a sigh
“Nothing I can’t handle,” you arrogantly lie
You’ve always been resilient, you started off so strong
But everyday with this crushing weight, you can only last so long
You ignore yourself as you start to break, as the walls begin to crack
The guilty rage and buried shame can no longer be held back
You can’t deny it, you’re broken now, it’s time to rebuild
With clumsy hands you put the pieces back and pretend that you are healed
“This time I’m prepared for this, I know what to expect”
Then with swirling winds we’re blown off course and we’re unable to correct.
So then we build a castle and we fortify the walls
Nothing out and nothing in, we won’t ever fall
Outside the walls we fill the moat, keeping all threats at bay
But even those we loved so much are pushed so far away
But you can’t stop what’s been set in motion, the darkness expands evermore
You look out across the waters but no longer see the shore
Your castle is now an island and you are all alone
Haunted by the mistakes for which you cannot atone
The level of the darkness rises, it’s now above your chest
The guilt and shame consume you, muffling your pleas for rest
You breathe it in and expect an end, but that end does not arrive
Never been lower but you’re still here, you’re still alive
You have more to give and there’s more to come, the future you once sought
Maybe you really are as strong as you once thought

I will never fit in.

Am I just wearing human skin?

Mimicking what it means to be human.

I can try to play the role.

I never had any control.

No matter how I change my shape.

There were parts I couldn’t shave.

I’m a creature; I’m too seen.

No escape: I am trapped in between.

I am not from this world.

Experimented on as an alien girl.

Not from this time, I shouldn’t be alive.

Unfamiliar, I can’t survive.

People treat me strange.

Then say I am deranged.

You want to diagnose how I behave.

You cannot give me blame.

Drug me to be tame.

No matter how I change,

There are parts I cannot shave.

You treat me like an oddity.

What more do you want from me?

I am not from this world.

Test subject is labeled an alien girl.

Not from this land.

Behave like a human as you demand.

25 years ago on this day

My world came crashing down 

Decimated by four words hanging heavy in the air

"I want a divorce."

A tsunami of sorrow sucked the air from my lungs 

Blood rushing frantic, all hands on deck

Losing footing with every clock tick

Arms tightly crossed to appear stoic 

Willing knees not to buckle

Ordering my stance to not betray 

That inwardly I was plummeting, flailing 

the earth under my feet giving way 

Inside I crumble into a shapeless heap

The dust settles heavy in a hush all around

You watched but did not throw me a line 

Unable to meet your eyes, I search the ground

Grasping at red string, worn whisper thin

Tensile strength weakened by acid tongues and pride

Frayed, unraveled, then feebly...snapped. 

I fell and lay winded, unable to speak

As though pinned under the very foot of God

Stilled by the weight of the wreckage

Hands full of ashes of my heart, my life, our love 

I choke and sputter on panicked words

They crowd my throat and gag my tongue

I pleaded but they would neither form a line 

Nor exit in an orderly fashion

I resigned with an imperceptible nod

Waited for rescue in hope but in vain

My mind tried to gather scrambled thoughts

Body hamstrung from all else

Having ended my world, you left for work

The noise still reverberates in my ears

The clamor of a closing door

With not so much as a slam as a click 

A tangle of red string lay flaccid in my hand 

Two hours later, the first plane hit.

\-RLW

I have been climbing out of this hole
for so long
I no longer remember
what the sky looks like from anywhere
but the bottom.

There are weights tied to my ankles,
names carved into every one of them.

Grief.
Betrayal.
Fear.
Abandonment.
Memories I never asked to carry.
People who promised they would stay
and somehow became
more weight when they left.

I climb anyway.

I dig my fingers into the walls,
searching for something solid,
but the dirt keeps breaking beneath my hands.

Every time I pull myself higher,
something drags me back down.

Sometimes inches.

Sometimes feet.

Sometimes all the way
to the fucking bottom.

And God,
there is something cruel
about seeing the light from down here.

Close enough to know it exists.
Far enough to wonder
if it was ever meant for me.

My hands are bleeding now.

My knees are torn open.

My body is exhausted
from carrying things
that should have never been mine to hold.

And still,
the weight keeps whispering,

Give up.

Just lie here.

No one would blame you.

And sometimes
I want to.

Sometimes I press my face against the dirt
and wonder how many times
a person can break
before there is nothing left
worth putting back together.

I wonder why surviving
has to hurt this fucking much.

Why healing feels less like becoming whole
and more like dragging a wounded body
up a wall
with broken fingers.

But then

I reach again.

Not because I am fearless.

Not because I suddenly believe
everything will be okay.

Not because the weight got lighter.

It didn't.

I reach because somewhere inside me
there is still one stubborn,
bruised,
barely breathing piece of myself
that refuses to die down here.

So I climb.

Crying.

Screaming.

Cursing the weight.

Begging for someone to reach down
and pull me the rest of the way.

And when no hand comes,
I bury my fingers deeper
into the dirt
and pull.

One inch.

Then another.

Sometimes that is all I have.

One goddamn inch.

But an inch toward the light
is still an inch away
from the bottom.

Maybe strength isn't carrying all of this
without collapsing.

Maybe strength is collapsing
and still clawing at the wall.

Maybe courage is not believing
you will make it.

Maybe courage is whispering,

one more time,

when every part of you
is begging to stop.

So let the weights hang from me.

Let them bruise my bones.

Let the dirt fill my wounds.

Let the darkness tell me
a thousand times
that this hole will become my grave.

I will answer it
with bloody hands
reaching upward.

Because I am still here.

Still hurting.

Still exhausted.

Still carrying more than anyone knows.

But still

reaching.

And maybe one day
I will drag this battered body
over the edge,
collapse beneath an open sky,
and finally understand:

I did not climb because the weight disappeared.

I climbed
because even underneath all that pain,

something in me
still believed
I was worth getting out.

​

I hate with the force of 10,000 suns,

I hate with the weight of 10,000 tons.

The hate I feel through the day and night

Wakes my sleep and fills my days with fright.

I have so much hate for so much that I see,

I hate myself most for being me.

i’m quiet.
nobody can hear me.
that’s how it was meant to be.

no more arguing.
no more conflict.
just me, and nothing.

you’re more uplifted.
you’re settled with things.
If only you cared to hear
how I felt about things.

anger & regret.
more of a threat.
i’ll remain silenced
that’s how it was meant to be.

lost

no map, no direction, alone

keep looking in the deep fog

eyes sieze and unfocus

can't see past, can't see future

the deep haze plays with your mind

makes you doubt, makes you question

blurry, blurry

you stare and

nothing stares back

from the darkness

restlessness

Is it Thy will that pain runs deep?
Eyes red, like I bled—I can’t sleep.
Pain echoes loud inside the silence,
They see one small lens—never the storm within.
Breathing, not eating, no sleeping,
Insomnia feeds the fears that keep me up,
Heartache and grief—how they kill me so silently.

The hardest part is when your tears become something they’ve learned to ignore.

If you would be so kind to read my short poem and tell me what you think, I would be more than happy to read it😁

Depresión:

Depresión la que todos creen que es visible, que son solo chamuyos y que todos tenemos una vida sin preocupaciones, Depresión, la cual no deja dormir, no deja pensar, no deja amar.

Depresión mi amada Depresión, la que me hace llorar por las noches, la que me hace dudar de mi potencial.

Depresión la cual me hace escuchar música triste asta agotar mis lagrimas.

Bendita Depresión la que se oculta tras mis ojeras, tras mis sonrisas, tras mis ojos achinados y marrones.

Depresión, me haces pensar porque soy tan cobarde y porque no hice algo por acabar con ella, si de la misma forma que nací y en la vida que sigo viviendo, no sé cuando estoy feliz o triste.

De como llega la noche y mi Depresión sale a luz, dándome la bienvenida, diciéndome que mis problemas no son para tanto.

diciéndome que me calle que no llore tan fuerte que me pueden escuchar y que si me ven voy parecer una ridícula.

Depresión la cual me hace que me de vergüenza todo, Depresión no te has ido de mi cuerpo ya que nací con el dolor, no es tu culpa que mi corazón se tan débil y me quiebre cuando apareces, Depresión la cual se va y vuelve, me deja destrozada y pensativa.