Tag Archives: anxiety

The Cliffs

Leave a reply

Dangling my feet

over a sea of navy.

Gripping onto sanity

like the hands that grip this earth.

I’m on a patch of green,

a color to be calming,

and yet these daydreams

are nightmares in hiding.

I’m trying.

I’m trying to separate 

the grief and despair

from the gratitude

of the salty air.

Does this shatter the image

that I’m clinging to?

Where it’s all figured out

and I’m reaping the rewards.

Every wave that crashes

against the rocks below

is just an audible reminder

that I am breaking also.

–

So here I sit,

in a place I deemed my peace.

Whispering my surrender

to the life I did not seek.

If I seem vacant,

know my mind is at the cliffs.

I’m rearranging thoughts

and displacing any rifts.

I’ll save you a spot,

if you’re not afraid of heights.

It’s a long drop to the bottom,

but here, 

it’s all alright.

The Waiting Room

Leave a reply

I had a dream the other day.

We were in a doctor’s office.

Perhaps it was a metaphor of a true check-up.

A storm was coming,

and the predictions were egregious. 

We chatted about our preparations,

and held small talk about how we were doing.

You haven’t crossed my mind in years.

Unless I’m drudging up mistakes of the past, or the love I’ve lost,

I simply don’t give you access to my mind.

You’ve already done enough damage,

and my rental has been finishing repairs.

I love the reconstruction, honestly.

I’m finally being booked at a higher price, 

the one I should’ve charged for you.

My love met me at the office and you shook his hand.

You watched us leave and I looked back.

I smiled, and could feel my hand grip his a little tighter.

The healing, the growth, the success, the unconditional love, and the value…

I have that. I did that.

Everything you once told me that I couldn’t be or couldn’t have…

here I am, and I have it all.

You’ve crept in the background, 

and don’t feel surprised,

because I saw you.

This dream granted you full visibility.

For once, we shared true transparency.

It was invigorating.

It was powerful.

After all this time, I’ve still held a small amount of pain and anger.

Not necessarily because I’m thinking of you; don’t let your ego get inflated, 

but rather the situations that involved you.

The trauma showed itself in the unexpected. 

Cruel, bent, rusty nails that just wouldn’t budge.

I finally got to tell you how I worked hard to be where I’m at today.

Incredibly hard.

I deserve this life, this love, and this healing.

I deserve to walk away with this smile.

I earned it.

I hope you’re in a similar place, truly.

I think that was the point of the dream.

I’m finally strong enough to wish you well.

54321

Leave a reply

I feel a detachment.

One so sharply edged, that I’m bleeding.

I feel a panic.

One so numbing, that I’m floating.

I feel a fear.

One so horrific, that I’m hiding.

I feel a confusion.

One so obliterating, that I’ve entered a delusion.

I feel an emptiness.

One so hollow, that any remaining feeling is simply the negative reverberations of my thoughts.  

–

I see a void.

Yet, it’s all consuming.

I see colors.

Yet, they all fade to a grey scale.

I see flames.

Yet, it only lingers as ash.

I see a pillow.

Yet, it provides no comfort for my head…

only anguish.

–

I hear my own echo.

It’s haunting, and there’s a crew of spirits.

I hear a slow drip.

It’s an attempt at keeping the faucets of my ego from freezing.

I hear white noise.

It’s the only way I can stay sane.

–

I smell an overpoweringly nauseating aroma.

The one that makes you ill.

The one you can’t escape.

The one that can’t be cured.

Even time has to wait.

Once you’ve inhaled the suffering, you cannot forget it.

I smell morbidity.

The one that seizes your brain.

The one that turns joy to mold.

The one that crumbles to a shady blue in your hands.

Even wine won’t pair well.

Once you’ve inhaled the doubt, it becomes your captor.

 –

I taste a bitterness,

but the longing for peace remains sweet.

When

Leave a reply

when your heart is hurting,

do you scream in pain,

or do you cry in a whisper?

when your mind is racing,

do you grieve the sane,

or are sheltered in the twister?

when the burden is strong,

do you seek weakness,

or do you shine in resilience?

when the tears have fallen,

do you show meekness,

or pour them into your brilliance?

when the days feel darker,

do you look for light,

or find safety in the shadows?

when the nights feel longer,

do you gain new sight,

or are the demons now exposed? 

when balance starts to shift,

have you misplaced weight,

or was that with full intention?

when the truth is shown,

can you now accept,

or do you prefer omission?

when has become the choice.

when is where, what, and why.

when is the guttural voice,

and when will stay until you die.

Contained

Leave a reply

I live in the loneliest world.

Not a soul in my corner;

I can vent to no one.

The pressure is building.

When I try to have some of the air escape,

I’m faced with ridicule, criticism, and dismay.

I’m always there for others.

I always offer an ear.

But for me?

It’s the worst, I fear.

I feel minimized and neglected.

Oh no!

The wrong emotion was selected.

I am not to show concern.

I am not to disagree.

Heaven forbid!

I must bend the knee!

I’m over it;

I am done.

When those ask why I’m silent,

maybe they should look at who’s holding the gun.

I give you permission to be dismissive.

Matter of fact, I’ll be entirely submissive.

Offer no opinions,

just reassurance that you’re right!

My hands are tied behind my back.

I’ll no longer throw a fight.

I’ll live to appease;

I’ll close my eyes and no longer see

the damage being done right before me.

A puppet in your show,

I offer you control.

Say goodbye to me.

Safe House

Leave a reply

I got a safe house,

and it’s not what you’d expect.

It’s made of paper,

and it’s hidden underneath my bed.

I got a safe house,

and it calls to me.

When I’m in the dark and all alone,

somehow it sparks a fire in my soul.

I got a safe house,

and it wraps its walls around me.

I’m on the sacred ground of poetry.

No lies, facades; it’s purity.

And when I’m at my lowest,

sinking down beneath the floor,

I ask God to come and save me,

but he gives me something more.

He gives me talent; He gives me a voice.

It may not come from my throat,

but it sure as hell speaks more.

Yeah, I got a safe house,

and I’ll camp out until the day is done.

I’m losing all my wars,

but the battles are always won.

Meet me at the safe house.

I’ll put the fire on.

We’ll get warm and settled,

and forget we are someone

who has doubts and problems.

Don’t worry, my safe house will solve them.

We’ll be okay,

in the arms of these words.

They’ll hold on and won’t let go

until we are ready and we know

that we can always come back

to the safe house.