Back and forth,
What am I worth,
My brain tells me not much,
Maybe you can cure it with a touch,

If they want you, you'll feel better,
Just let them take off your sweater,
Let them rip away your skin and flesh,
Until your damaged soul is all that's left,

Kiss me harder, make me feel something, anything at all,
This numbness is written all over me like graffiti on a wall,
I will give myself up, my body,
Isn't that what you want,
And then you'll walk all over me and away from me,
All nonchalant,

The highs don't help me outrun the lows,
Impulsive decisions are always in tow,
Who am I,
The party girl or the sad one,
Maybe both,
I feel everything and then I feel numb,

Please doctor tell me what to do,
Because I don't know what is true,
I'm in a constant tug of war,
I want to feel less yet I long to feel more,
How do I stop these wolves inside,
Because I'm tired of fighting for my life.

Our world decided to reopen.
A deadly pandemic polarizing its people.
A dollar bill weighed against a heartbeat.
You’d be surprised what we value.

But what about me?
The inner alarm on a continuous loop.
Shouting in shame.
My plague has no cure.

“Isolation” and “shelter in place” are household terms
for those under the weight of depression.
We are jealous of the cardinal that sweeps past our window,
the elderly man who waves from the street.

Freedom.
To rise each day with an appreciation for life.
To be touched by another.
To fall in love with yourself and someone else.

But today, I cannot.
Today, my eyes stare out the window.
A celebration of “opening back up.”
One day, I wish to join them.

It seems like a free fall, really.
Like when you are 12.
On a roller coaster, topping the first drop.
Veroomph!
Your face contorts itself into disfigured smirks and smiles.
You don’t control the expressions. They just happen.

And, so it is in death.
It’s a free fall.
A letting go of all restraints.
The tension and tears rip away like a massive band aid.
To say you aren’t scared would be a lie.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The graduation of height opens the landscape.
You suddenly see the world from above.
Everything. Everyone is a microscopic version of themselves.

And then it pauses. The ride.
Your life.
Waits. “One Mississippi…two Mississippi…”
It’s not an open invitation to get off, mind you.
You’ve purchased the ticket. A price has been paid.

So, with a slight hesitation, you calm yourself.
You settle into the seat.
Stare at the birds.
Lift your hands to heaven.
Silence. Silence.
The world makes a picture for you.
But, you are no longer in the frame.

A silent shriek,
morning hues of red and orange glitter through the pines.
Shadows form across the bedroom floor.

His vocal chords strain to be heard
above the laughter of the lilies.
Thrusting to and fro in a synchronized stance
they’d been practicing since the first of May.

An ominous cloud crosses over the heat source,
calling into question the events of the day.
Rays or rain?
A quarter, spinning and twisting in slow motion,
heads or tails?
The stakes are high.

Mr. Anthony, my neighbor of two decades,
rounds the corner of Dibbens Street.
Completing his morning trek pass the Weeping Willows,
he pauses to look in my window.
Pauses.
Does he see? Can he possibly know?

Heads or tails?
And for today, the decision is made for me.
I decide to stand.
To repeat it all over again, tomorrow.

So many years
Feeling bad about myself
Berating my being
For being
Fundamentally flawed
Fragmented
Irreparable

I wish someone had noticed
Me
Pulling the hair off of my head
Me
Flailing about
Like a trout
Out of water
Me
Stepping on
All of the rakes
Unintentionally
But also
Sometimes
Fully aware
Of where
They were lurking in the grass

And I wish they’d said
To me
Stop
Stop
Stop.
Breathe.
Look around.
You’re ok.
You’re ok.
You’re beautiful
And young
And you couldn’t possibly know
How quickly time runs away.
So stop.
Stop saying
What’s wrong with me?!
You can stop
Because I’m here
To tell you.

What is wrong
With you
Is
That life
Fooled you
Into thinking
That there’s something wrong
With you.

My thoughts
Paint brilliant colors,
But
Chemical venom
Swells my tongue
And silence
Fills my mouth.

walking in a fog
once you get out
you realize
you have been walking
in water
the whole time

you're drowning

I can touch my stability with the end of my pinky finger.
It dances on fishing string or careful drops in shallow water.
A deep breath in or a flick of my finger could upset the balance,
Sending me swinging again.

Slowly options are being restricted
My body tells me I just can't
I must find alternatives to my habits
And I just wish that you could understand
It may seem trivial
To mourn something so little
But its not as simple as it seems
I'm angry
I'm sad
I feel helpless
As this illness takes more away from me