‘Rainbow’ – Jade Melissa Stuart

rainbow a wish upon words

 

Poetry by Jade Melissa Stuart from the book ‘A Wish Upon Words,’ which is available from Amazon –

https://www.amazon.co.uk/wish-upon-words-

 

You can find more of Jade’s poetry here at;

https://www.instagram.com/theinkinmyscars/

Facebook: theinkinmyscars

 

 

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The External Hell Within, by Carol Anne.

 

pexels-photo-326055

 

So many tears in grief stricken eyes

So much shame behind the lies

So many scars on such young skin

So much pain lies within

All the pain builds in side

All the tears you try to hide

You know it’s not the right thing to do

But no one seems to understand you

One more cut, not that deep

The blood will finally let you sleep

The calm has come after the storm

You are alive, the blood is warm

You know that now you must hide

And keep the shame you feel inside

You wish there was some other way

You wish you knew the words to say

Fall on deaf ears and unopened eyes

You aren’t proud of what you do

You wish the wispers weren’t about you

Nobody seems to understand

Except the blade you hold in your hand

You need proof that you are alive

Not cold and dead like you feel inside

The hurt is so much and it will not fade

It is your own flesh that has payed

You pay for pain and lies and shame

You feel the guilt when people speak your name

You just want someone to understand

And tell you it will be ok and hold your hand

Not ignore the problem and hope it will pass

Not say its a phase or even a fad

One more scar, there is nothing to lose

You don’t do it for them, you do it for you

Do you still try and hide it or make it known

You live in a glass house, do you cast the first stone

You know that some will call you insane and some will call you even worse

Before all this you were peoples dream

Now you are their curse

You don’t know how long you can hide behind the lies that you tell

Being clumsy may be hard but it hides the truth so well

How else do you explain the cuts, scrapes burns and broken bones

You fell down the stairs, slipped with a knife

And sometimes, you don’t even know

They don’t see what they don’t want to see

And you don’t feel what you don’t want to feel

The pain may subside but it always comes back after the last cut heals

Sometimes you wonder if you will run out of skin before you run out of pain

Or if you will finally be able to stop it all before you go totally insane

You know that you’re not trying to die, you’re actually trying to live

You’re not trying to take your life, it’s life you’re trying to give

You’re trying to make people see the hurt you feel inside

Trying to use your pain to help them open up their eyes

You don’t do this for fun or to try and fit in

You’re making external, the hell within

 

By Carol Anne, an alter in a did system.

 

Find more of Carol Anne’s writing here;

blog: http://therapybits.com/

twitter: @manymultiplied1

 

Image rights by pixels.com

 

I want to live before I die – Joyline Maenzanise

 

bryan-minear-317365

 

For a while now, I have been haunted by the superfluity of my existence

Of late, my mind has become weary from all the years of displaying resilience

I keep searching and am struggling to find a way out of what feels like a runnel

It is fading, the belief that there is a glimmer of light at the end of this dark tunnel

At this point, I no longer find inspiration in loved ones or ambitions I had

For so long, love received and goals set have worked to keep me motivated

Sadly, that only got me to this place of feeling emotionally depleted

My days seem to have become mere obstacles that must be overcome

The pain – even as I quit smoking – I still do whatever it takes to numb

I pretend to be jovial, I pretend to be interested, I pretend to be present

But, could it be that through all this, I may not be pretending to be “OK” after all?

Could it be I am trying to give myself a break and move away from this dark pall?

I talk openly about my struggles for I don’t want to bottle my pain so dire

I talk because a part of me wishes someone might help me out of this mire

Probably as an effort to help me feel better, I am told that we are all “not OK”

It could be an effort to deter me from burdening others or expecting any aid

As just another solution I’ve thought of, “go for therapy”, some folks have said

Sadly, access to (queer-friendly) mental healthcare services is a privilege

Not many of us seem to understand this as though it were a cryptic adage

Still, some folks understand my pain and that is all I can appreciate

It has taken some time but, now, I embrace the stomach-churning revelation

I ought to be to self the person I hope will offer emotional support and inspiration

Still, I find it all tiring and when night comes, I wish I would sleep everlastingly

I have had to learn to manage panic attacks which often overwhelm me agonizingly

Oftentimes, I find myself convincing self to get out of bed in the morning

On many instances, before leaving the house, I make sure to give myself a pep- talk

Other times, I wait until the coast is clear before, out of my room, I can walk

Through all the struggling, I find myself wondering, what is the point of it all?

What is the point of being alive? On me existential questions as these take their toll

Death does seem like a pacifying escape from what seems to be meaningless

But, before I eventually die, regardless of cause, how I yearn to just live.

– Joyline Maenzanise

 

Joyline is a contributing writer at On The Line, a South African publication. Some of her published work can be viewed here: Stories by Joyline Maenzanise : Contently

 

Image by Brian Minear Photography

I am so much more.

 

woman

 

Badgered and bullied

I always felt both sadness and rage

at home and school

 

just wanted a moment that was mine

where I didn’t feel swept and carried away

by some sea that was not mine,

 

and my best friend were books

few people seemed to understand me or care

those who did only wanted to use me;

 

I am putting those years behind me

looking forward to a better future because

I choose to be happy even on my hardest days

 

won’t let depression or anxiety conquer me

I am so much more than this misery, anger, and pain

that is trying to strangle the life from me.

 – By Linda M. Crate.

 

You can find more of Linda’s words here at https://www.facebook.com/Linda-M-Crate-129813357119547/

 

Image rights by Pexels stock images. 

Tick, tock…

killing-time-600x600

Tick tock, tick tock
No time for time on this mania clock!
Seconds minutes that’s how I operate
Hours, days, weeks, mind tossing back and forth on an endless debate!
Don’t you dare trigger me, I walk recklessly along this tight rope
And I dare you to think you’ve figured me, these thoughts slide along a slippery slope
The cunning confidence of grandiosity, protects that vulnerable “stable” me,
disguising my true identity with a thick cloak
They really can’t get enough of me, but their ignorance has ruffled me
I talk circles until I choke
But they’ve not seen the last of me, no argument could baffle me
I’ll feed on my dreams til there’s nothing left to hope
The weak they refuel on sleep, but I’ve got the water beneath my feet
The wind beneath my own wings, no song your soul knows that mine can’t sing!
My ears they begin to ring, the unhinging of my mind, my subconscious has knowingly foreseen…
Better luck catching me when I’m in between.
 – Bipolar poetry, by Stephanie G. 
Image rights; ‘Killing time’ – Joel Robison photography.