SpokenWord

Sweet solitude has been calling my name for quite some time now.
In my own state of emergency, neediness and loneliness emerged,
desperation softened my tone,
Soul screaming with the criss cross of
Applesauce soft boundaries
but mouth stayed shut
Thought this meant I was becoming
Woman
Accepting
friend
lover
Throat chakra finally blocked
Had I learned my place?
or had I just
always loved being told something was wrong with me
because it fit my view of me
in a room with 32 people who think I’m alright
my fav will be the 33rd who
Tells me
what needs fixin’
So sweet, sweet solitude
I come to self Humbly every day, in practice
Strengthen my belief that “I am”
and I will return to “because we are”
🙏🏾

#SpokenWord #BipolarDepression #PTSD

Heartbeat

By Erica Camp

Why is my heart so fragile?

It’s shattered on the floor

You can even see it beat

Even when it’s in pieces

I long for the person

Who could take that pain away

Pulling from a string

Still connected to my chest

My attachment

But is attachment enough?

I gave you my heart

Now it’s lying on the floor

I still have that bond

Like three sisters holding scissors

My long cord viewed in the light

Should we cut it out?

Release this yanking of my heart

Broken on the floor

Begging for me to allow

For once, fate to intercede

Oh, my three sisters are you seeing?

This thread that holds my love

Toxic and triggered

Pulsing with fear and anxiety

Why am I this way?

Why do I want to be loved?

I want a love that’s whole

Wholeheartedly

But I must pick up the pieces

And I’ll cry over years past

Of memories that are sweet

Like a peach in the summer

Turned sour like lemon juice

You want your freedom to live

But all I want is someone

Whose heart can beat alongside mine

Fate will cute this string of my destiny

They are just waiting for me to say the word

Please

#heartbreak #PTSD #Poetry #SpokenWord #Trauma #Grief

Noone ever tells you how hard life really is.

They fill your head with premeditated worries about neverending bills and jobs you will hate

They tell you to get used to being tired and forget about the plans that you made

They say growing up is all about being honest while learning how to be fake.

They don't tell you about the thoughts you think when you come home at night and throw your hands in the sink

Washing your hands and face of today's lost dreams,

You stand crying for a minute because you can't help but think

while the forbidden tears roll down your cheeks

About how hard life really is.

It's more than what they told us. Atleast it is for me.

Because with the cards that I was dealt i had no choice but to see,

the dark side of this world before it ever saw me.

And I can't be the only one that seen.

There's more to this then what they say

It's feeling numb but knowing pain

It's constant guilt and endless shame

It's dark thoughts on sunny days

It's feeling lost when you know the way

It's wanting to speak with no words to say

It's wanting to forgive but your hearts full of hate

It's wanting to forget but your minds full of rage

It's dreaming of being free from a life time of pain

It's a constant game

Of you against yourself

And you against the world

An invisible war that you can never be prepared for

Because they can't ever put it into words about how hard life really is

Because it's losing hope when hopes all you had

It's one step forward two steps back

It's getting ahead just to get caught in a trap

So life can catch you quicker and take all that you have

Faster than if you had stayed in the back

Because that's the way life really is

You've never been ahead, you're just on a different path

And I'm not being selfish but this is all that I have

To offer to those who have been caught in this same trap

Who have been lost and who have been afraid and who have been speechless and been ashamed

If it means nothing to noone except for you I want you to know

that it's okay. Just let go

But they don't tell you THAT that much do they?

They leave out the fact that you have fought and fought and fought and though you are wounded, you are still standing

They leave out the fact that you would not have been taught life's greatest lessons without this constant changing

They forgot to mention that behind every dark corner there is a light that's STILL gleaming,

Waiting to be noticed to remind you to never stop dreaming

Never stop believing,

because even though this world can be deceiving do not believe that your life has no meaning

Because it does
.
You are that light.

You are the very flickering flame that someone needs

You are the voice that speaks to a soul in need,

You are the light

You are the hand that holds a broken piece to someones heart that's needing peace

You are the smile that changes a persons day, you are the friendly face that pauses the pain

You ARE the light

You are the eyes that see the purpose in others when they can't seem to see

You are the energy it takes to help them believe that just like you, you have got to believe

That you ARE the light

You are the phone call that could save a persons life

You are the friend that could pull out the knife - in the back of someone who's losing sight

of life's greatest purpose because they've been too afraid to fight

The battle against what the world wants us to believe is right

So if you feel like your losing your purpose I hope to God that you heard this

Because you are most certainly worth it no matter how bad that you're hurting

I hope you know your important, I hope you know that you're loved

I hope you know that you're not alone and that you are always enough

I hope you know that you're strong, I hope you know that you got this

I hope you remember all the battles that you won and you fight this

I hope you stay with me, and that you never forget that you are that light.

And most importantly I hope you learn to love your life.

#SpokenWord #Poem #MightyPoets #Motivation #Depression #Anxiety #PTSD #Trauma #PanicAttack

I would like to introduce myself to you fellow poets, poetry lovers, and fiction enthusiasts from The Mighty. My name is Antonio. I have an interesting body of literary works that focus on mental health that many of you might be interested in.

I have digital stories on YouTube on my recently launched channel with myself and others reciting some of my spoken word poetry.

I've also written two novels of mental health fiction ("Destiny's Stereo" and "Love Is in the Eye of the Beholder") that feature tons of my free-verse and spoken word poetry and storytelling. In honor of National Suicide Prevention Month, these books are being sold exclusively on Amazon for a discounted price. Check me out!

bit.ly/rantoniomattaYT

bit.ly/rantoniomattaVids

amazon.com/author/rantoniomatta

#SuicidePrevention #SuicidalThoughts  #SuicideAwareness #MightyPoets #MentalHealth #mentalhealthfiction #SpokenWord #MajorDepressiveDisorder #SchizoaffectiveDisorder #Trauma   #Fiction

I think about the small room. I remember the pale wallpaper adorned with pastel flowers, carelessly painted over with white paint, forced to hide the past. I realise I am still in the room, I can feel the fabric of the rectangular sofa with high and harsh edges. It's old and tries to keep me. The room is still and quiet but it's not quiet. I know it is not still. I am screaming and they are trying to capture me. I don't understand why and all I can do is cry. My mother is crying as well, pushing God towards me, certain He will keep the demons away. Maybe there are different types of demons? Maybe they are not afraid of Him.

I blink at the small green frog at the window. I can hear crickets and light rain in the garden. Water droplets are gently and rhythmicly tapping on the pond's surface. I read in my book of reptiles that that frog is poisonous. I think it's poisonous. I think I will not go out tonight.

I am restless. I have a fever and I dreamt that all my medicine have come alive and are chasing me, forcing me into a cupboard. How silly, I think, as my tiny heart pounds against my tiny chest. The floor is cold and harsh. I try not to open my eyes while trying to find my mother's hand. I hold her hand and she holds mine. I wonder if they will let me sleep on their floor again tomorrow. I don't want to be alone in my room. My father snores loudly. I fall asleep.

They gave me a silver ring with turquoise detail. It is adjustable and fits my slender pinky finger perfectly. I think about turtles and glowing light in between the cracks of the stone. I am in a glass dome and everything is peaceful.

#past #Childhood #Trauma