“You may trod me in the very dirt.
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.”
Nightmares
Night time descends with a crushing darkness.
Into the abyss my mind travels.
Great desire for rest, great fear of the fall.
Hoping this time it won't hurt so much.
To allow sleep allows the subconscious to take over.
…
It’s Not Your Fault
For years I have carried a huge source of pain,
One riddled with guilt that runs deep through each vein.
I blame myself for what happened, I didn't say no.
But I was a young girl, and I didn't know.
I am human
So yes I have thoughts that are dark and absurd,
And my grasp on reality is shaky and blurred.
But I promise this scares me much more than it scares you,
So before you try to judge what I have been through:
Try to see that I don’t choose to live my life this way.
I don’t choose to struggle to make it through each day.
I am exactly the same person I was before you knew.
I have as mental illness, but I’m still just as human as you.
The Haunting Glass
For the useless glass in front of me cannot portray my worth,
My talents or my fears or the story of my birth.
Really it tells you nothing, so why then do I care?
Why do I constantly just stand in front and stare?
Picking at each part, never viewing me as a whole.
This vessel of my being, protector of my soul.
Who even has the right, to say what is good and what is bad?
And why should I give others standards the power to make me sad?
Behind Her Eyes
Why then beware of this young running girl,
You see out there every day?
Because that young girl has experienced life,
In a totally different way.
The lessons she’s learned and horrors she’s seen,
Have taught her things most people deny;
As they wander about in ignorant bliss,
Of what caused that look in her eye.
