Mental health Poems
Olden Tale
by Ivy Olivia Tjahjadi
The old jaggernaut's dream
Filled brain juice to the brim
Withstand this tale's grim
So no more you'd be trapped by the gleam
Once, spoke a hummingbird, blaring clickity and clackity throbs:
"You shall not prevail better than my voice."
The bird hums with an echo so loud, jollying bold brazen yaps,
Letting the whole forest hear her obnoxious melodies
......
Stop Romanticizing Mental Health
by Shay Grace
Anorexia, Anxiety, Depression, Self-Harm, Suicide
How you have become my friends
You have grown up with me and have been by my side
Friends I could not live without
You guys have controlled my life
And have left me at the end of my rope
What I go through every day is very real
You have put me through the lowest darkest times
It angers me when people put off my issues
Like they don't even care, they don't even try
......
Temptation
by Jasper Kirby
Temptation beckons me in every waking moment. I can drown her out but she’s always there. If ever my mind goes quiet, she’s waiting for me, anticipating the very second she can start to tear me apart, inch by inch, until I cave and give in to her wants.
Once you’ve had a taste of her curse, you can never forget it. But you can fight it, so I do. I fight and I fight and I lose and I fight again. Scars that remind me of past battles litter my skin, but they only serve to fuel me further. How dare she hurt me and tarnish my body. How dare she.
Just because you lose the battle, doesn’t mean you’ve lost the war.
Armour
by Erin Owens
Dissocaition is the armour my mind
and body so desperately clings too.
Wrapping myself in a hazy dream,
The real me only seen by few.
My laughter muffled, my cries suffocate,
A skill I so perfectly cultivate.
The emotions escape me as I try to feel,
All human experience does not feel real.
......
56. Adversity Anniversaries
by Kea Campbell
Loving had never made me feel so lonely, and living never made me feel so lifeless.
Patience was scarce and I was desperate for rest, and the only peace I found was in romanticizing my death.
Hate was addictive, but only towards myself, because I bought into the beauty standards that society sells.
At 10 I didn't know that it was rape and not love, because I believed what he told me until he hurt me for fun.
12 and I hoped that my heart surgery would fail, because at least it'd get me out of writing fair wells.
14 and I wondered “What if infanticide would have won?” or “What if my parents had never given me up?”
16 and my wrists were an escape from the numb, and the only things I believed in were my sports and bulimia.
18 and my stories grew older and untold, because no one had time to be friends with broken souls.
19 and 1 month and I feel most alive; now I know how to live, and not just survive.
......
Olden Tale
by Ivy Olivia Tjahjadi
The old jaggernaut's dream
Filled brain juice to the brim
Withstand this tale's grim
So no more you'd be trapped by the gleam
Once, spoke a hummingbird, blaring clickity and clackity throbs:
"You shall not prevail better than my voice."
The bird hums with an echo so loud, jollying bold brazen yaps,
Letting the whole forest hear her obnoxious melodies
......
The New Chapter
by Liam Wright
His story had started
But he wanted to end it
His story had started
With all the feelings he blended
Right foot then left foot
He began to wobble
Right foot only
He began to hobble
He reached out for help
but he couldn't find it
......
How I would paint confusion and how confusion would paint me
by Liam Wright
Fallen leaves
A lack of green
My brush strokes on the canvas
I paint the sands in all it's Tanness
Cactus thorns and rows of corn
Snow and rain
Confusing pain
Light with no sun and Laughter with no fun
I'm not understanding
Trees in the sand
......
107. Withheld
by Kea Campbell
There's a horrifying creak that grows more brittle in unwelcome and unkind time.
It's ripping apart at each ablated site and teases my mind with the end of my time.
Muffled through my chest are groans, exhausted, weak, and flooding with pain.
No one does realize, and I won't tell a soul, that one ghost pump could mark my final day.
It's a blessing to wake up and think, because it means you still know you're alive.
So take advantage of all the ways to twist your brain and exercise your mind's inclines.
It's a blessing to see, taste, touch, and smell; so, experience the earth while you still can.
......
The Ache Beneath the Thirst
by AP Writes
I was eleven
when I learned the burn of vodka
could quiet the voice in my head,
the one that kept asking
why am I still here?
I drank from a water bottle filled with Bicardi
in the back of 8th grade history,
and the teacher’s words became
white noise I floated in.
......
