Tag: mental health poetry

These long eclipse hours I waste daydreaming about what could have been,

They weigh heavily on what is left of my heart,

Then erase my good deeds to replace them with sins.

I long for a place under this pitch-black sky but all I see are scarlet warnings.

Loose memories float right in front of my face,

And I can only hope I get to see the next morning.

No, it was not always like this – I still remember how I used to greet the sun.

Every puzzle piece of my virtues broke into shards,

So, I told my loved ones to run.

Now I keep getting stuck in this endless feedback loop of spiraling emotions,

And nobody dares to call my name out loud

Because I turn sympathy into solid devotion.

Some nights I even enjoy watching the fear fill their eyes like maroon smoke.

I hate who I have become more than anything,

But I fantasize about choking out these old jokes.

These long eclipse hours I spend considering how I let myself bleed red,

They drag me by my ankles like balloons,

Then replace my gleeful smiles with torment and dread.

-Jackie

What if I blurt out the words and let them shoot across the foggy fields like sun rays?

What if I jump in the clear water just to feel the chill tingling my head like a haze?

I am far too afraid to let out a sound because the hounds have been after my scent.

The last time I took that risk they cleaned out my heart and put my chest up for rent.

The feeling deserves its place under the sky, but my lips refuse to part for weeks,

And I am stuck on a cliff with everyone watching me, thinking that I have grown weak.

But what if the water turns out to be muddy and the people I love simply leave? 

What if my confessions are nothing but daydreams that I could not trap in my sleep?

I know there are those who are queueing up to see me fall in the wrong direction. 

If they hear my heartbeat picking up the pace, they will gossip about me selling affection.

Still, my breaths are running out of misdirected anger to convert into selfish fear,

And every year I learn more about how happy people do not hold judgements dear.

So, what if I spill the sentences until they form a new version of these old bones? 

What if I run off this cliff and dive into the water just to find out that I am never alone?

-Jackie

Some ten years ago I wrote this poem about my own demise,

And the streets were only black and white –

No gray and no compromise.

Nobody ever read it because I did not want them to know.

I just let the sadness take the wheel

As I sat back in the last row.

No, that is not true, I was really pushed down on my bare knees,

Praying that someone could hear me

And burn my apologies.

Nobody ever knew it because I hid under my luminous titles.

Achievements can be the carrot,

But they can also be the monster behind us.

Now I sit here a decade later with an army of me in the corner,

Sharpening blades and nurturing love,

And crossing all the borders.

Nobody ever dares to tell me that my words hold no meaning.

Some want me to fear the looks they throw

But I am done with bleeding.

Still, I think about the poem and how I thought I knew the end.

Now I would rather be the bad actor

Than make someone else’s amends.

Some might find it cruel, some might find it very characteristic,

But no matter what they call it,

I deserve to be here even when I risk it.

-Jackie