Featured Poet - Danielle

WHEN IT FEELS TOO HARD

I must remain mindful

That my mind can be spiteful.

Drag me achingly

From the grinding,

But endlessly tell me

Not achieving relentlessly

Is how to fail miserably.

There can be no self-kindness

If mindfulness

Has a mind that just lies to us;

One that blinds us with fairy tales

That are nothing but scary tales.

So repeat after me

These words that you don't believe yet;

Because I promise it hurts less

Than depression that festers, untested.

You can't just pack up and flee

From existing. 

It's worth resisting the pull

To the darkness

And quiet. 

Persist.

I insist.

I am still the same person

That I was when

This mess came to distress me with

How loudly and totally

It embraced its control of me.

"I can still be excited,

Get ignited by life's surprises

And brightness,

And that delight is so priceless.

So worth-fully,

Tirelessly

Fright-less.

And I get to decide,

For myself,

For my mind;

I can show myself kindness,

And let it be

Timeless.

~

SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

A pit of jagged, angry glass

Is no defence,

Makes no excuse.

When you can't deduce a way to reduce

The pain, you play the broken field

Anyway.

For someone else you crawl through crunchy shards

That slice and bite,

But on you fight

For them. 

They deserve the world

So there is no choice to make.

To fix them you will bleed and bruise and break.

And isn't that heroic?

That passion and compassion.

Focused and devoted,

Bloody stride not breaking,

Ever stoic.

Now look again at the scene.

The pit between them and you

Is distorting the view.

There's no 'them' now.

Only you,

Looking back through the cracks

At what once used to be

And could be once again

If you stand up and straighten your back.

No need to bleed and bruise and break,

Because the choice you have to make,

Make no mistake,

Might feel like knives through skin,

Like splinters in the bone

Whilst all alone,

But feelings can be lies.

They can disguise the real pathway,

Make it darker,

Hide the prize.

All you have to do to make it through:

To survive the lies and disguise,

Is tell it over and over again:

'You are wrong. I will be fine."

ABOUT THE POEM: “I wrote this poem, and the next one, during a very painful time of having intense suicidal thoughts and feelings. I wrote them to take the power away from the impulses and lies that my brain was giving me, and to remind myself to keep on fighting.”

~

WHY I DON’T GET BETTER

There is one person in my life

That for whatever reason always disappoints.

I tell them every day

How much harder they should work

To hide the imperfections plain to see.

There is one person in my life

That for whatever reason always makes me mad.

I tell them every day

How much harder they should try

To find success they always fail to reach.

Why does this person never learn?

I ridicule and prod and poke,

Disparaging insults both generic and bespoke.

I roll my eyes at them.

With exasperated sighs I break them down,

Piece by tiny piece,

Never a moment of rest from my relentless tirade of unacceptance.

“What more could you possibly need from me?” I snarl,

As I stand in front of them

With eyes full off disgust,

Staring hard into the mirror.

ABOUT THE POEM: “This poem came about during a particularly difficult struggle with liking myself. I wrote it to remind myself that self-hatred would never be the key to self-improvement.”

~

CHOICES

If given the choice

I would choose to be chosen.

I longed to be picked,

To be wanted by someone.

I'd have packed up my teddies,

The friends I'd invented,

My colouring books for the chance to be special.

To be born inconvenient

And age in resentment,

Is not what I'd choose

If I had my own choice.

To have just one parent who wanted to parent,

Just one of those caregivers willing to care;

Is all that I needed.

All that I wanted.

But nobody asked me

Or gave me a voice.

Now I have freedom

To choose to my liking,

I do try my best

But sometimes it's frightening.

What If I burden them?

Will they still like me?

Will they still love me if I'm in the way?

To be graciously grateful is all that I knew then.

If beggars were choosers

I knew what they'd say.

Slowly but surely

I'm learning and growing.

Sometimes I'm nervous and play it too safe.

But today I am free,

Today I have choice.

I choose what I choose

And I have my own voice.

ABOUT THE POEM: “I wrote this poem to remind myself that there is a reason that I have spent my life trying to make myself small and agreeable, and that on the days I am still tempted to hide who I am, I can still look back and see how far I have come.”



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