Fully Alive

I’m Sam, I write bad poems sometimes Any pronouns are fine!

[mydialect]

Quick Introduction! :)

Hello you beautiful person you! My name is Sam, you can use any pronouns when referring to me. I am 20 and live in WA state. If @tinywordsbigheart follows you that’s me!

My messages are always open for any reason, feel free to send in prompts or to vent, I’m not here to judge.

All writing and photos on this account are my original work, if you want to repost anywhere get my written permission and its a’okay!

My master list can be found

here.

The rules list will be coming soon!

Have a lovely day, you lovely people, thank you for giving me a moment of your time!

[mydialect]

The Octopus in the Evergreens:

I feel as though I do not fit in here.

My bones long and sore,

My feet covered in sap and not in shoes.

The movement through the trees brings worry instead of comfort.

I feel as if I do not fit in here.

Seeing the families, so young and happy,

The godliness felt by all of those around me is overwhelming.

My soul cannot take the ideology.

I feel as if I do not fit in here.

[mydialect]

Pregnant and Barefoot

I am tired of men using my interests against me.

I don't want my flowing dresses to tell them I am meant to be a wife.

My long hair a sign of femininity.

The makeup on my face to indicate my worth.

I dream of my lifestyle,

Not a traditional one.

A life where I do not have to have shoes on my feet,

Where my clothes billow in the wind like the grass around them,

My face freckled and sun kissed.

I want to be me.

In a way that only I decide.

[mydialect]

I Don’t Cry

Laughter - tormentor of my dreams

And so I screamed, 'Is that a hilarity?'

I remember I was snorting,

Death shall bring chuckles.

The funniness brought such sorrow.

[mydialect]

Untitled #3

One day there will be grass on these hills.

The blood long since soaked into the dirt.

People may remember in passing,

They may plant flowers, put remembrance markers, build monuments.

Eventually, all will forget.

But the mother always remembers.

The bones left in the dirt.

Metal in her roots.

Flesh on her hands.

The mother remembers,

Before the grass grows.

[mydialect]

I fall quickly.

For the world, for others, for life.

But never for myself.

I despise every piece of me until it becomes useful to others.

But as I sit in my space,

Feeling the world around me close out,

I find peace in the idea that you don’t expect perfection.

Because you don’t expect me.

[mydialect]

I want to hug my mom but don't know how

Today I am five.

My stomach hurts and the cold porcelain of the toilet has yet to work its magic,

She sleeps, not 30 feet from my perch, but still too far from me.

I don't know how to reach out to those I love,

They had never taught me.

I am five.

Still so young and trying to grow.

A baby in the blink of an eye.

I am five.

[mydialect]

Before coffee;

I am tired with anxiety.

After coffee;

I am slightly awake with more anxiety.

Everyday I turn into my dad.

[mydialect]

I can’t go home.

There’s not space for me there.

There’s not space for me anywhere.

[evilmanhater]

i. gustav vigeland eros and psyche / auguste rodin ii. triton and nereid, iii. the kiss, vi. eternal idol / iv. miklós ligeti / v. stephen sinding the mennesker

[mydialect]

How to Write a Suicide Note

Step 1: Get a piece of paper, or a note book, depending on how much you have to say.

Step 2: Grab your writing instrument. I don’t recommend markers, crayons or colored pencils.

Step 3: Pour your hearts out. Let everyone know what has been happening in your head and everything you feel is wrong in your life.

Step 4: Think about their faces while they read it.

Will your dad be able to survive this heartache? Can he identify your face without crying?

What about your cat? She will have no where to go. No one who knows her favorite food and when she gets fed. What will she do immediately after your death? Will cats actually eat their owners?

Your parents have been divorced for 10 years this will be the third time they have been in the same room since then. First was for your suicide attempt, second was for your hospitalization, last will be your success.

Do you dress nice for it? Make sure your body is pretty one last time? Don’t wear that dress that your step sister likes, you want to keep it safe enough to give it to her after. What about your birthday dress? You won’t live to see it anyways so whats the issue. Or do you want to be comfortable? Pjs and a hoodie. But what if blood covers the matching hoodie that you and your friend have?

How are you gonna do it? You're too hesitant with a knife. And you don’t want to make a big mess for whoever finds you to deal with. Too scared that taking pills is going to fail and you will just wake up again and have to keep moving forward. A noose would require you to get rope. What rope would you even use? Do you splurge for nylon or get the cheap inexpensive rope that makes your skin crawl?

Does your comfort even matter here? Its not like your whole life hasnt been hell anyways, why would you care about your own feelings now?

Is suicide the time to be selfish? Do you finally have permission to worry only about yourself? Or should you keep caring about others even while begging for deaths door?

Step 5: Fail again, give up or wake up the next morning covered in your own bodily fluids.

Step 6: Cry. Whether for yourself or others, you will cry.

Step 7: Go to class, or work, or home. Just keep moving on.

Step 8: Go to step 1 next time it is needed.

[mydialect]

Sam’s Two Liners

God either keeps trying to kill me or keeps bringing me back

I cannot tell you which is worse.

[mydialect]

I never thought I’d live past 11.

Watching my happiness click off with the TV after a late night episode of Scooby Doo hurt me in a way I have yet to recover from.

Having to tell my parents that their baby girl tried to kill herself forced everyone to be sad with me.

That was never the goal.

Growing out of that was so incredibly hard.

None of my peers understood what it was like to feel absolutely disgusted with yourself but never having the energy to do something about it.

Most of them still don’t know the sheer desperation of doing your best to have it be the bare minimum for everyone else.

I’m 18 now.

My happiness is not compared to that of a normal person.

When your whole life is shaped by childhood depression you never really learn how to function.

At my best, I cannot make my bed, nor brush my teeth every day, or sit in a room of people and simply exist.

Learning to take care of myself the best I can still elicits comments asking when the last time I had showered was,

Or why I sleep in my makeup.

The only thing driving me forwards is structure, I cannot give up on everything I am working towards.

Even though the thoughts of never being the age to reap those benefits haunts me.

I don’t think I’ll make it past 25.

[mydialect]

My Familiar

Once upon a midnight lonely,

I and a sweet pea only.

Praying for the company of my pretty flower once more.

I was a witch and you were a santolina.

[mydialect]

Bottle It Up

By the grave I saw the storms.

That rainfall, that dear rainfall.

The echo murmurs of floods.

Flooding over the hills.

The dams left as dust.

Cascading over the walls that have been built.

All at once,

I am flowing with the water,

The floods don't stop, and stop, and stop.

Among the swells, there are corpses

Of old and new.

None have been grieved, the water takes them too quick.

Overflow through the stones

Carved and broken.

Drownage slows,

The water flows out once more.

Yet again, I am sitting by the grave.

[mydialect]

Scrapbooking

I can’t put a sticker on a page until I’m certain it’s perfect.

Never before the page is full.

Not where I imagine a better sticker yet to be obtained could go.

By the time I put a sticker down the time has passed.

The pages are old are faded.

Wrinkled with age.

The messy penmanship from years before.

But I cannot commit, until the sticker is perfect.

[mydialect]

Drowning

That feeling of sinking below the waves.

But its not of terror, its of comfort.

The weightlessness of it all,

Like you can feel the sky pushing down upon you yet taking you and giving protection within its arms.

Allowing you into a space where you can feel.

in the soft pressure that suspends you,

Keeping you in a feeling of above yet below everything.