Creative Writing · Free Write · Melancholy · Poetry · Pondering · Reflection · Writing

Free Write: Exhausted Reflections

I am sorry for being a terrible person. I am sensitive and it is hard for me to exist in this world.

I have a hard time going to work and committing to work and school and jobs.

I hate that part of me. I hate that people can’t trust me.

I am an honest person, I am just tired and out of place.

This feeling persists.

Sometimes it’s easier to stay in bed and not move for hours?

I wish I could explain this…spell it out eloquently and in serenity.

You were beautiful but created  dust.

Creative Writing · Depression · Free Write · Letter · Melancholy · Personal · Pondering · Prose · Reflection · Writing

Lost in the Supermarket

I visit often, mostly just to see you. Sometimes I feel we have a connection. Other times I am unsure if it’s just politeness. I have been hurt a million times and my heart is fragile. Mostly I am okay. I sleep alone. I eat alone. I feel okay on my own. But it’s been two years for me and I miss having a man’s arms around me and feeling enclosed, inside of another. I miss having someone to look forward to. Someone to share life with. Laugh with.

I see you and think, you could be that person. I am not often attracted to others but I feel strangely drawn to you. When we speak, I want to keep talking. To ask you questions about life and death and the universe.  Find out why you love Deftones so much and how I lost my virginity to White Pony. I think if you cared, if you were interested, you would have inquired by now. I have presented ample opportunity for it.


So here I sit writing to no one, or possibly the entire world. I think there is not one for me but that hopeful piece asks, maybe? Still do I wonder at your mysterious aura. I think about you as I walk away to my car again. I like to imagine you looking back or at least wanting to, and maybe even you wonder of me too…


More likely we will continue to pass each other in this market. Red shirt and a basket in my hand. I will smile and you will smile but go on in our own ways.


“I’m all lost in the supermarket
I can no longer shop happily
I came in here for that special offer
A guaranteed personality”

—-name that band

Creative Writing · Dreams · Free Write · Personal · Poetry · Writing

I am dreaming of you and I am not sure you even know my name…

I met you in my sleep again

Always in grocery stores

I invited you to my short bus

A drunken fortitude

I wondered what you wanted

What you expected

I tried to find you in the right way

I wanted to touch you and

Forget my pain for a moment

But then you were gone

And I was driving ambulances

Without codes

To try to find you

I hide behind purses

And vomiting strangers

Door one I will lose my memory

And the other one is not fun

I tried to run

To get back to you

But shooting blades are blocking

A cage to keep me out

Personal · Prose · Reflection · Writing

Convocation

This last semester in our capstone course for the Health, Society and Policy major we were given the topic of “family” for the concentration of the course. I thought to myself, “ Family? Are we studying health? Can we really fill an entire semester talking about family?” I was slightly confused and irritated thinking I wanted a topic related to saving the world; something like environmental change, disease control or health care reform. I soon became aware of how ignorant that thinking was and I spent the rest of the semester not only humbled but with greater insight to my own family and health. I now say with confidence that family is one of the most important aspects of health.

If college has done anything for me, it has been the continuous realization of how much I do not know.

Perhaps the most significant revelation I had during this semester after all of the discussions and lectures was that I am not alone. I do not exist exclusively or without consequence. You also are not alone.

We are interconnected. We are not only an individual. We are family. We are our community. We are in this country together and we are all citizens of earth.

There has recently been much divide in this country and in this world. People are broken over political discord and it is easy to become discouraged when we look at the troubles of the world.

As new graduates I challenge you, as well as myself to not become so tangled in the big issues that we forget who we are and where we have come from. I know I am not alone in having aspirations to make positive changes in our world but it may be that we must start small. We start with ourselves and then our family, friends and neighbors. In the long run we may never make changes on a global scale. We may not be recognized by name or face or have prize winning achievements. But like a stone being thrown into the water, our actions will create ripples and reach others in ways we could not have predicted. As we adventure into the future and step into our chosen fields let us remember to keep throwing stones.

Now lets go make some ripples.

Creative Writing · Dark · Depression · Emotional Abuse · Free Write · Melancholy · Poetry · Psychological Abuse · Reflection · Sadness · Self-harm · Writing

Beauty and the Beast

Tw:suicide, self-harm

It was New Year’s day and I sat curled up in the oversized arm chair thinking, “I deserve so much better than this.”

That’s when I knew it was the end. That it was over and there was no going back.


Reasoning these actions:


That I should not have to be up all night rocking back and forth. Wondering where you are and who you are doing. Fearing the possibilities of what the next horrible thing you will do, without a care  or second thought for me. Driving myself insane trying to decipher truth from your lies….deciding it would be better to die than to live through another day with your sickness.


This is the point I got to. I looked at the hole you punched in the wall. The mess of your clothes on the closet floor. Empty bottles all around our big and lonely apartment. Where did I go wrong?


A million answers and I can not find the only belt I own. I know the guns are no longer at home.


Swollen eyes. Gashes on my legs. I am shaking on the floor again and looking for a way. I watched my world crumbling around me as a natural disaster.  Too incredible and unbelievable to look away.  I could not conceive how you left me in such a state.


You are every broken piece in me.


And I decided a while back that was never going to change. You still rattle about inside of me but I keep you in a cage. You are the moster I run from. The beast I try to hide. 

Dark · Dreams · Free Write · I Miss You · Melancholy · Poetry · Sadness · Writing

I think you left today and I still want to save you. 

In that big house mixed with rooms we used to sleep in. Used to be together in.

You have a brother and I can’t remember where he came from.

On the old box tv with knobs and fuzzy faces.

Billie Jean plays on…

On that futon I lay across you.

I look you in the face and tell you I love you.

I know your mind is floating elsewhere.

Your brother joins and kisses me. His hands down my pants.

Still you do not notice.

Still you do not care.


The house is filled with cheap kids, punk rockers, old drunks.

The usuals.

They say they need me to get them liquor.

You say you want to come.

But the house turns dry and the heroin fades.


You say I am off the hook and to go away.

I place a glass lamp on your head and pour the water in.

I see you drowning.

I see you gasping.

Please don’t.


I keep turning over the globe but the liquid consumes your face.

I yell I am sorry.

I am so sorry.

I love you.

Please don’t die.

I try to smash this glass prison.

I smash it over and over on the cement.

They say the man isnt real.

But my best friend is on my left.


I scream until I am gasping and I wake inside my bed.

I long always to save you, into the reaches of my head.