am i nostalgic for known misery

for having a purpose behind my pain

i guess back then it was clear cut

i could see right through to the cause

now everything is a mystery

an equation an excuse

something to dig for

but i’m tired of searching

for the cause of my own pain

i almost want someone to cause me misery

so i have someone to point to

to give the purpose back to my pain

then i would feel safe

then i would be content



channel your energy into something productive

they tell me

you’re talented, but you need to be motivated

they say

write everyday, exercise your mind

they give advice

that no one asked them to give

i write for me

it brings out the anxieties i keep hidden

and stains the perfectly clean paper with my dirty thoughts

of love lust loss life and misery

my unclean mind can fill a page

but my unrest eases as i attack my typewriter

viciously trying to put down thoughts

as they come

because they will  go

and scrape out a piece of my heart when they leave

they choke the life out of my eagerness for life

a girl can only be beaten so many times

before she locks herself in her room

and tries not to give in to these thoughts that stick

themselves to under the cold side of my pillow

in between the pages of my favourite books

to my toothbrush or deodorant

they leave their mark on anything ordinary and make it painful and intrusive

just leave me alone and take my thoughts with you

Expectations pose

while the weight of my world bends my shoulders

and creates kinks in my neck

with a smile, and a shift of the eyes

i say i’m fine

and ask about you

i’m not very good at conversations

making time


or anything really

creative abilities turn

into creative possibilities of how everyone hates you


how they would be better off without you

imagining scenarios

that works with my mindset

on some level i want to be proven right

that i am worthless

that the world is better off without me

but i don’t fullheartedly  believe it


i’m at the back of the concert complaining about the view

when i should be elbowing my way to the front

if i am just as important as everyone else

then maybe i will


i may feel things more completely

and that is sometimes a burden

on myself

but more importantly on the people around me

i am deafened by loving the people i love so wholey

that i lose sight of the fact that they are people too

they make mistakes

they love and they lie

they try and they fall


i am consumed with hatred for myself

so that i do not leave my room

for expected failures

but i have to leave my room

and join the world of the tryers and the failures

and make peace with myself

make sure i know its okay

to make my footprints here known

because that will be all that’s left


id rather be remembered for being kind

than not remembered at all



I’m better I’m better I’m better

she says

I’m better I’m better I’m better


I’m bitter I’m bitter I’m bitter

she says

I’m bitter I’m bitter I’m bitter


Stop asking my if I’m okay

she says

Because I will answer no


And then what will you do

she says

Without a stock reply to show


i feel so much that its hard to keep track in my own head what i actually want and what i don’t

i fool myself into thinking that i am stronger than i am and somehow everyone seems to believe it too

not that i would want people to treat me as if i were this breakable thing

i usually smash myself to pieces before anyone else gets the chance

and now my skin is as pale as the skies on this gloomy day

a symptom of melancholic overthinking to the point of loss of blood

my heart is drained and my head, my head……my head is a mess

Do You Hear Them?

the indulgences dance around the room like winged faeries on cold dewy hills

float victim

float strength and understanding

float blood bonds and the irreplaceable

float guilt

float shame

float new trails being carved

float love and admiration

float the friend you think of when you think of a campfire

float dark, dark tunnels

float choices and happenings

and new reasons to be nervous

and the songs

and the joy

and please, let me carry them through


because bumble bees are fuzzy 

because of the smell of oil paints 

because when kids lose their front teeth, they talk with a lisp 

because the ‘one good day’s add up if you look back far enough

because your best friends can write a book about you better than your parents can 

and because they truly love you just as much as you do them 

because beer doesn’t taste the same anymore 

because I can’t be left alone 

because life IS worth living 

and you are not alone