*untitled*
When I was about 9 I had my first panic attack.
I didn’t really know what that was, all I know is that in a moment
A switch flipped
A world full of fairies and berries and plums
Became one that never seemed to have enough air to fill my lungs
A feeling like the shadows on the way to the bathroom took nest in the corners of my eyes
Everywhere I walked
Looked
Dreamed of
Was saturated so completely with fear
that at 7 I told my parents for the first time that I wanted to die
Death was so much easier than this constant, screaming reality which I lived in
rather than fight for every breath
even though when it came
I knew it would taste like blood, and ash, and mud
I decided it would be much easier to not breathe at all.
This fear never left me.
When we moved to a new town I’d hide in bathrooms and under playground slides to avoid the watchful eyes of the unknown
The streams in my town and soft fertile grounds of this brand new home
Did little to quiet the screaming silence.
The one that had found its way onto my eyes, remember?
When I was 10 I decided that there must be something wrong with me
And so I started to hate
Just a little boy
One that should have been playing in the mud, with the fire, spilling blood,
I turned to the mirror and pulled myself apart like my little brother would a GI JOE
The years flew by
When I was 12 I learned to hate the way my eyes weren't the same exact size
When I was 13 I decided my voice too high
14 I never cried
15 I never cried
At 16 I decided to die
I’m 18 now
My skin bears the scars of battles with god
Some days I cant get out of bed
Or brush my teeth
But my breath, sour as it is, fills tattered lungs
The colors of my world still take on a greyish hue
But these legs of mine
Split and bleeding as they are
Still move forward
And Ill keep moving that way
No Virgil to guide me
No Eurydice behind me
My youth lies in ashes
My skin is soaked in blood
I guess that leaves me
With mud
This Poem is a Slam I wrote for the end of my senior year, crazy how time flies.
I was off and on a couple medications, and I still haven't gotten myself quite balanced out.
I was diagnosed with a couple hereditary mental health issues early on, and I've learned to live with a lot of things, and fallen down a couple times, but here I am. It's good to look back and get into writing again, inspired by myself, rather than ashamed.
NSFW for SH references*
Posted Nov 29, 2022, 10:16 PM UTC