[th0ughts-0n-paper]

Sleepless nights; days on end.

The voices are too loud;

"Nobody cares about you,"

"You're a failure,"

"Why don't you just kill yourself?"

They eat away at my mind.

My eyes are run dry.

No one understands how lost,

and alone I feel.

It keeps getting worse,

but I can't even begin to explain it.

A bong doesn't subside it anymore;

not even a few lines relieve me -

it wears off and I'm back where I started.

I go from sleepless nights,

to sleeping for days.

I feel so much pain -

I just need it to turn off.

I'm not even "upset" anymore,

I'm angry.

I don't know what else to do.

I push people away, but I want them close.

I want someone to see me.

I'm not even depressed;

I'm going crazy.

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

as a teenager,

everything feels like the end of the world.

that relationship that ended,

your parents splitting up,

your grandparent dying…

you lose your virginity,

you graduate,

you could lose friends.

as an adult,

you’re almost numb to everything that is happening.

another relationship didn’t work out,

you had sex with the wrong person,

another person died,

you lose your job.

bills piling up,

and your home is a mess.

as a teenager,

you can’t sleep because your brain won’t shut off

but you still get up the next day

and go to school,

go to the gym,

maybe a part time job.

as an adult,

you’re going to sleep early but still waking up tired;

you go to work,

but you need caffeine,

but finding time for yourself isn’t as easy.

we think being a teenager

is the worst time of your life,

but trying to manoeuvre your life as an adult

is so much worse.

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

555: change.

A lot has happened,

and I’m feeling overwhelmed.

Every one keeps saying it’s for the best,

and I can see the good

but I can’t feel it.

All I can do is hope for the process of change to continue;

to closing one door,

and opening a new one.

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

We see you in the flowers at the stores,

in the bees and the butterflies.

We hear you in the singing birds,

and the chiming of the wind chimes.

We feel you in the warmth of the sun,

and the light breeze on a warm day.

We can see, hear and feel what you loved,

and feel like you’re still here somehow.

You’re apart of us forever now.

You’re in the bird’s song, the butterflies and the bees.

You’re in the wind, the sunshine, and the flowers.

When we see, feel, or hear,

we know your hand is on our shoulder;

saying, “it’s going to be okay.”

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

Everyone talks about the “big memories,” with you;

adventures they went on or

a funny story.

But I remember a lot of the small things.

Your cooking and your baking;

how you would bake brownies

or banana bread almost every other week.

Even though it hurt you.

I remember your words,

always asking me how business was at work,

new tops I had on,

even if I’ve had it on before

and you just didn’t remember.

I would talk to you about birds and flowers;

you always knew what was what.

You loved watching curling;

only a few things gave you not near the end,

and that was one of them.

I remember you with my T;

I would always tell mom how much you loved him.

You would glow when I would bring him over;

almost like you didn’t feel like a burden with him around.

He made you laugh.

I remember your love for animals,

for junk food, and soap operas.

You would never sit down and relax,

now matter how much pain you were in.

You always had to clear off the counter right after dinner;

get everyone’s plates

and make sure the dishes were done,

that laundry was done;

you always made sure mom and I were taken care of.

That’s what you did.

Until the very end.

You told me not to be sad,

you told Aunt M to make sure the brothers weren’t hard on mom.

Even now, we can all feel you here still.

We know you’re watching over us.

I think we’ll be okay.

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

I heard it’s harder the months after,

and boy, is that true.

I walk into the apartment

and see your empty chair,

that my brother is using your room now,

and that most of your things are packed away,

or donated already.

I have some things of yours;

a couple stuffies,

your amethyst,

your two birds on the tree branches,

and I’m going to have a couple sun catchers;

you can say hi to me through them.

We miss the Sunday dinners,

your banana bread and brownies.

You didn’t get to teach me how to make them,

but I’ll follow your recipe.

We miss your laughter,

your jokes.

We miss your cooking,

your love, your support.

I know you wouldn’t believe what has happened;

I see you letting me know that you’re with me.

3:33 on the clocks almost every day.

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

You make me feel worthless.

Your condescending tone

makes me feel like a child,

who’s mother is talking down to them.

I shouldn’t feel like that in my workplace

You said in an interview,

“this company isn’t for soft skin,”

Maybe this isn’t for me, then.

I was happy, I felt confident in my abilities.

Now I feel like I’m walking on eggshells,

that I’ll be prosecuted if I make one wrong move;

looking past all the good ones -

almost like you’re waiting for me to fail;

to back down.

You analyze everything,

even words that come out of my mouth,

the way my employees act;

with a fine tooth comb.

Then you use it against me.

Maybe I’m just insecure.

Maybe it’s just all in my head.

But what if it’s not?

Where do I go from here?

Update:

It was not in my head; she fired me for slip ups.

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

I once heard,

“the funeral isn’t your worst day,”

because you have a bunch of people around you;

making sure you’re okay,

sharing in your grief.

The worst is the week after,

when the quietness sets in,

when you see their unused bed,

the chair they sit in that’s now empty.

Then it’s a little worse a month after,

when you’re trying to move on with life without them.

When your conscious goes from,

“they’re just gone” to “you’re never seeing them again.”

That’s the worst.

The empty spot where they were in your life,

the ache in your heart that makes that emptiness

a huge pit in your stomach.

It just gets worse.

But you learn to live with it.

That pit in your stomach, that ache in your heart,

reminds you of someone you loved deeply.

[mentalquotes]

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

The burning in my mind,

through my veins,

just over my arms,

for a blade, that sting.

Every time my mind darkens,

it’s like suffocating;

feeling unwanted and unworthy,

by family, friends, by my workplace and in my relationship…

I’m in a dark place;

my whole body feels it,

and I can’t catch my breathe.

I’m not good enough at my job,

no matter how hard I tried;

why does she not like me or believe in me?

I’m too clingy of a friend;

I don’t like drinking or dojng drugs so I’m not fun;

I’m quiet and awkward.

I’m the baby of the family,

no one thinks I’ll ever grow up,

or leave “mommy”.

I’m not enough to make him happy,

he’s happier online than spending time with me;

I can’t give him the sex life he wants.

I’m suffocating.

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

seeing how good him and i are together

just shows me how horrible we were for each other

so i guess i can’t blame you fully

for everything that happened

we just hated on each other

for months on end.

doesn’t make the harsh words burn any less

i still have scars

and they still make me flinch

when someone touches them

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

you seen my bruised

and cut up heart

and held it until it started healing

even when i start yelling for no reason

you’re still telling me how much

you adore me

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

[th0ughts-0n-paper]

“I’ve come to think of self harm as letting the steam out of the kettle. The water inside the kettle boils to the point that the kettle releases steam then cools down. I’m only releasing steam.”

—