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an open space for youth writing & mental health discussion
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 I’m sorry that the feeling is mutual
That we may die alone together Two halves of different wholes The lost puzzle piece and eternally lonesome sock. Maybe I can give you a hand the right size to hold If nothing else.  Don’t wait for death to come to you or it will advance on you quicker than you could dream of; make your amends before its too late; rekindle friendships and fallen relationships; this is how to not waste time; don’t waste time; this is how to prepare your house; this is how to prepare your family; don’t forget to turn off the stove before you go; look presentable; this is how to straighten your hair - your mother will want your hair to look nice; this is how to iron a dress; don’t waste time; make sure you have planned out your will; believe in Heaven so that you won’t end up in Hell; forgive others for their wrongdoings before it’s too late; this is how you say goodbye;
 Panic ambushes me like a rogue wave:
Its roar racing toward sparkling shore And rising to tower over seashell beach. Panic hits me on the shimmering sand; It fells cherished sandcastles within, Transforms dreams into twisted turmoil.  My black fallen angels stumbled towards the captivating golden liquid that you had poured.
The night turned into months as I followed your deceiving voice. And you knew that too, which buttons to press for me to unravel for you. Eden was tantalizingly in view, begging me to claw through my Asphodel fields. Who said we both couldn't be racing to see how far your con of forever would escort our souls?  With shaky breaths and heavy heartbeats,
I find myself in an abyss and Frantic, forage for something familiar To ease my rising fretfulness. I strain to move my anchored legs Yet cannot escape this chasm. Caught, I cry out with scorched throat But hear only a pathetic echo.  north, we stare, heading for the top
but wait. suddenly, we plummet, into the depths of our sea and it feels, nice actually to be able to let go, and fly, however short the ride so we fall  It is a stubbornness, this thing that sits on my chest and pulls open my eyes to see that there are
still things here for us. There is a home to be built. There is bread to be baked, to be broken with friends, to eat while still warm.  I rinse my cold hands
on the gentle shores of Punta Fuego, feeling a rush of last summer coming in and ebbing away.  imaginary trains,
the clack of the tracks like fingers picking at guitar strings. “i’ve been everywhere,” is a promise and a vow, a tale for every star and trail.  There’s a framed drawing on my desk
which my sister drew in the fall of 2017, in our old Samik apartment. In the drawing, my brother and I look at the sky, our muddy hands on the sand castle we were building.  We were nineteen throwing pennies into pools thinking that youth could deliver wishes to reality
Dinner dates seemed like a classic, but two strangers can hardly pass it Park benches and plastic cups filled with ice cream is where we landed in the floral air And I knew the date was over, felt the static taking over Till my waning eyes were captured by yours, and lassitude left my shoulders Because the spark in your eye told me that this night would end in magic  10:17 PM
I wear ripped jeans, cuffed at the ankles, that sway with each step along these glossed linoleum floors.  "The Ancestor" by Leonora Carrington and at that moment,
the beasts of His making clawed and stumbled out of the shadows pools of darkness bleeding into every inch of their eyes mouths upturned in a gruesome snarl, drops of saliva falling staggeredly from cracked lips tails dragging limply behind them, leaving trenches in the dampened soil sharpened talons bit into the earth, like they had a personal vendetta against mother nature or the earth upon which they stood or me  the leather shoes are sprawled outside
beside the poplars, cypresses, the yews shaded in the darkness with trees looming over like the grieving widows  Every nook glimpsed into
now brings unfiltered glee. Every day, the walls inch closer, the smell of nothing carries all with it. Summer storms fold like raw wool.  When her ears are roughened
like processed flax, she goes away on her annual trip - the one no one speaks of. Along the cobblestone paths driving from home are small cavities,  Along Lee Chapel Road
one still afternoon, rests a cemetery. St. Andrews Chapel overlooks the plane idling at the top of a grassy knoll. This winter, snow drifts from the sky  Soon, all the cherry blossom trees that bloom
in the spring will winnow away. The bushes filled with small fireflies will dim with the night and the silly children who used to catch them will turn into ghosts.  after Airea D. Matthews
in the garden or the ice rink, we had praised art and debated physics-- was it phase changes or pressure  Salmon rays splash onto a canvas of vapor:
altostratus streaks roll along the horizon. They ride the foaming crests of the aether-- but under my camera lens, they still. The clouds blush for the LED screen.  It’s all a game now.
If you wake early in the morning, shut the door & measure the minutes before the coffee maker beeps. Count the beats between crashes, record the decibels of each crack. Divide by five & forget about miles; the eye is just inches away.  after Langston Hughes
I, too, am the future. a young adult, a blossoming person, a teenager that’s taking in the world day by day, gaining experience and living, learning the ways of life  Back here again.
Another day has gone by and I didn’t even realize. The water relaxes me, The steam like a blanket of comfort. Yet soon enough the panic sets in And I’m on the shower floor, Silently sobbing and gasping for air, Until I can regain myself And contain it once again.  After C.S. Lewis
Love anything and watch the bifurcated sword cleave its maker. Bury the child in algae. Ethanol shrinks from linoleum squares but the glass remains. Give away a covering of cotton. Fine teeth comb the ivy as blinds for a blank slate Ants chew on the spinal cord and no grass grows in a velvet cage. Hear the reeds petrify.  I greet friends with a smile, laugh
To convince them I’m okay; But then when alone, I plunge Into my usual dark hole Where images swarm, ridicule me Powerless to fight back. |
