Pretty Words

Poems are made in the pauses

The ooohs and ahhs

What is written prettily will be prettily read

But messy will be powerfully heard.

Often confused women’s words for pretty little poems

Because they write so neatly.

They only write so neatly because instead of given a respite from daily lessons with peers they were held inside to practice making their letters just so.

Don’t want “doctor’s handwriting”for our pretty little girls.

Pretty girls can become pretty poignant and pretty powerful

As soon as they stop just being pretty.

Advertisements

Thought Control

When the mind is broken you can’t trust your thoughts

You don’t know who is speaking whether it’s you or someone else

Who’s going to control you that day some illness who won’t stop until I am dead or me who just wants to graduate. Until we get this worked out the real me must bow out and delay her dreams so that the illness won’t succeed. She feeds off stress and she has been fat lately. I must starve her out but it’s hard as I used to use stress as fuel too just differently. And now I sit in a hospital bed not knowing what to do at all.  And I wish I could go back to the fifth grade when I broke my leg in 6 weeks I was a little wobbly and as good as new. I wish this new illness worked that way.

Break

Just a little break

Break just a little

Break away for the broken

Take a break if you’re broken

Mend so that you can be broken-in again

Break free from the mold

Break the mold

Be broken

Just not too broken

Not can’t stop  crying broken

Be you’re own person

Be you’re own free person

Just dont be  a broken on your own person.

Sedate the Playground in my Mind

Just as ideas flow
Sedation is offered
To take would be to stifle the flow of thoughts that have been rushing since my eyes opened after drug induced sleeps.
Thoughts full of fear thoughts full of love.
They try and bring me to their level except
Numbness seems to be their only companion with an occasional visit from apathy.
Some days I’d do anything for numbness most I wouldn’t trade the world for the feeling of greatness. Because there are consequences for
Sometimes, I don’t know if it’s true what they’ve said that I’m sick and need help.
And other times, I dont know if they believe me when I say I am sick and need help.
I am always swinging.
It used to be a really long swing the kind where you could touch the sky and know you’d reached it just before you flipped out of your swing.
But then they added new playground equipment to make the swings force me touch the ground again, for fear the sky swing would drop me, thinking I could fly.
But what if I can fly.

Thoughts Like Mine

Kill yourself echos in my mind daily.
From a voice that is hard to recognize, but must be my own.

That is why I am here upon this robin’s blue bed staring at a wall and writing poetry.
This would not be my first choice of writing locale or subject line.
I long for the sweet smell of my family.

But alas, I am here in this dreary room barely attempting to be cheery.
The main problem I’m having you see is finding anyone to tell what the voice is telling me.
To complicate matters my mother’s tongue did not speak the same words as these nurses speak,
And I am not yet proficient enough to communicate emotions.
So I sit here in this place designed for helping people having thoughts like mine, unable to tell anyone I’m having thoughts like these.
I dont know how they can treat that which they can’t hear. So i worry I will go home with the same thoughts just more.

There’s a terrorist in my head.

There’s these thoughts in my head
Tickling like spiders weaving webs around places i used to wonder
Putting venom between every cell so that when I wake up I wont recognize the person in front of me.
These thoughts spread poisions. Injecting euphoria and malady wherever they choose
Tinting my pure ideas into reds or blues.
They ask why i am here, like they shouldn’t know the answer. But the answer is simple, I’ve been poisoned by intruding diabolical thoughts
At first they were fun we ran around together
Met strangers together
Danced nights away together
Moved so fast even sleep couldn’t catch up
But the sad truth is
There is a terrorist in my mind and whichever way he swings i swing
Up or down
I just want to be free
And I know american doesn’t negotiate with terrorists but just this once i beg you
If not negotiate then obliterate because i dont know how long i can stand to live next to these poisoned thoughts stuck in my head, swinging me round ever which way.
Just a comfortable place to land is all I ask.

My Rainbow

Softly brushed green onto white walls
Twin beds with just a touch of blue,
Though there be no twins here.
No two the same no two alike
And that is why were are all here.
All types of crazy.
Crazy beautiful and Crazy lonely.
There is a rainbow of crazy that light up these soft walls and rough sheets full of soft colors.
But they’re trying to squish our rainbow out,
they want me to match the walls.
Through pills pushed through hands.
They want me to be a twin to my neighbor.
They want me to be a like.
They want to dampen my rainbow.