Life’s full of people needing things from you,
Sometimes it’s supplying true interest in them,
Sometimes it’s comforting words when they’re lonely.
Life’s full of you needing things from people,
Sometimes it’s gifting advice to halt your mind,
Sometimes it’s holding you during a breakdown.
Continue reading “I Can’t Be Everything for Everyone”
“…Your graduation poem?
It’ll be sunshine & rainbows,”
Unveiled what I had found odd,
Upon finishing my last final:
There was no instant deflation,
No sudden rush of endorphins.
Graduation is just another checkmark on my master list,
Signaling the next greatest purpose to take the forefront.
Continue reading “One Student’s Journey”
Whenever August 1st comes around,
“It’s the beginning of Birthday Month!”
I’d play along to a certain extent,
More times than not I’d also tease,
“People only get one birthday,
No one gets an entire month!”
Continue reading “In Defense of “Birthday Month””
If only I would’ve been stupid,
It would’ve been unable to hide.
If therapists could’ve read my mind,
The diagnosis would’ve been easy.
Those 10 years of decay,
My symptoms were right there,
Finally reached the surface.
I’m not stupid,
But I was lifeless.
Continue reading “I’m Crazy, Not Stupid | Living with BPD”
Whenever I’m asked to explain Buddhism,
My mind goes into immediate hyperdrive,
My soul scrambles to discover the right words,
How do I know which are the right words,
When I’m not an enlightened being?
How do I align with teachings of right speech,
When I must explain such a personal thing?
Continue reading ““What’s Buddhism?” | Eightfold Path: Right Speech”
As my teacher explained God’s plan,
I remember these specific thoughts:
“That’s not me, I’m not in Heaven,
Why aren’t two married girls there?”
Prior to my initial homophobic trauma at 4 years old,
I had to have known I was exclusively attracted to girls,
Otherwise it would not have been severely traumatic.
So I must have known prior to it,
Even right before that moment,
But what was the actual feeling?
Continue reading “How I Knew I Was a Lesbian at 4 Years Old”
You can’t hear my words,
You can’t sing along to the tune,
You can’t listen for comfort in isolation.
You can’t watch my words,
You can’t view the imagery,
You can’t see descriptions as distraction.
Continue reading “What’s the Purpose of Poetry?”
A mother and her youngest child:
All of my firsts were all of her lasts.
I was the final offspring she nourished,
Both inside and outside of the womb.
I was the final bird to fly the nest,
Did she notice my broken wings?
Continue reading “My Mother, My Angel”
You did your job,
You protected the child.
You’re too good at your job,
I’m not a child anymore.
Continue reading “My Mind is Under New Management | Living with BPD & Bipolar”