People are so concerned with themselves
no one cares how they hurt others
everyone is too obsessed with their own world
to ever notice anyone elses’.
We speak of multiverses as if it’s some sci-fi theory
yet it exists in front of our very eyes
each person lives their own creation
yours, slightly different than mine.
How much more enriched we’d be
if we simply took the time to celebrate one another
to really appreciate each world and
the multitudes they contain.
Instead we are obsessed with making sure our own worlds get noticed.
Notice me! Notice me!
we scream into the ether
failing to hear everyone screaming around us.
We are doomed by our own petulant selfishness
to miss out on so much depth
to have the chance to feel understood, less alone
all for some self-preservation, that doesn’t exist.
Eventually we are returned to an eternal slumber
snuffing out the light of our universe within
lost forever to a world
that doesn’t even being to know what they’ve lost.
love letter to the universe
There is something innately peaceful about
a snowy field in the middle of the night.
You can really hear your thoughts,
hear them sync up with the pulse of the universe.
I look out across the roaming vista,
inhaling the frigid air into my icy lungs
I am both exactly where I should be,
and somehow, nowhere at all.
The wind picks up and the trees dance
while the stars above twinkle and shine
the universe is having a celebration
and tonight, I am the guest of honour.
It is impossible not to let your thoughts run free, out there.
All of the room, all of the stillness
they coalesce to form a beautiful symphony
a harmony between nature, and me.
That we should ever feel alone is absurd,
for who could be alone in the universe
when she herself is a kind of alive.
On nights like these, its easy to imagine, its just her and me.
on mental health
On my good days
I am like sunshine
extending out to reach the farthest corners.
On my bad days
I am like fog
overwhelming, thick, impossible to navigate through.
On my best days
I am certain that I am cherished beyond measure
that everyone who loves me does so unyieldingly.
On my worst days
I am certain that I have never known love
that no one could possibly see past my tenebrosity.
On my best days
I see possibility everywhere
nothing could hinder me.
On my worst days
I can not see a reason to go on
I plan my escape route.
On my best days
the light shimmers and dances
even when there is none.
On my worst days
I simply can not recall
ever having known light at all.
Then there are all the days in between
because life though black and white
has so much grey.
I am the amolgamation of all my
bests
worsts
in betweens.
I am still learning to love me
at anything short of my best days
I am still learning to love others
at anything short of my best days
because the one thing I know for sure
is that I still have a lot left to know.
wildfire girl
She is a wildfire,
who doesn’t care who she burns down
on her quest to self-destruct.
A raging fire can be a beautiful thing,
so full of life and yet
it so savagely destroys, as well.
Her flames burn crimson red and deep ochre,
even violent blue, not a solemn blue,
though sometimes it may seem so.
Sadness can be destructive too,
folding in on itself,
not dampening the fire but feeding it.
The people in it’s path,
so distracted by her calamitous beauty,
left burnt to a crisp in her wake.
Don’t be disillusioned,
a fire does not burn maliciously,
and neither does she.
A force of nature simply,
knows no other way to be.
big questions
Do you claw your way back from oblivion?
It’s easy to sit here in all of my moods and say
it would be easier to just not feel at all.
When you’re in that moment, when you feel the life draining from you,
your consciousness fading
out, are you suddenly desperate not to leave?
Sure, life is grim and painful and pointless,
but what if there is truly nothing afterwards
and just as quickly as consciousness came, it leaves,
nothing, in an instant.
I go outside at night and I cry to the stars,
that you might hear me,
that anyone might hear me.
Begging the universe to show me a sign that this isn’t all there is.
This isn’t it.
The urge towards nihilism is so inherent in me,
and yet I can’t crush this hope,
that somehow this is not all for naught;
simply the waiting room before the real magic.
This constant vacillation is exhausting,
invigorating still, encouraging me onwards,
while I scream into the wind and tear at my skin,
answerless questions forever clouding my mind.
dream sequence
What dreams do know,
as they float about,
we sleep softly and
yet, our heads are in places much remote.
A sigh, a toss, a turn,
reliving ones loss
in the dark of night
it’s hard to know what’s wrong
what’s right?
These dreams do lie,
and play their tricks
they dangle promises on our lips
so that when we wake
the sweetest pain
just to have seen their face again.
the monsters in us all
How easy it is for us to bemoan our own hardships, the hurts and betrayals that have been done onto us,
what about the terror we enact on others?
To live without fault is near impossible, if not entirely so.
Each of us comes away from this life scathed and scathing.
It is effortless to float through time and space feeling sorry for yourself, feeling the pain of what the world has enacted on you.
Yet how often do we stop and recall the hurt we’ve doled out?
I find myself sitting and weeping over the ways I’ve been mistreated,
still what about the hearts I’ve broken, in pursuit of my own self interest,
or in boredom,
or in malice.
Should we not stop to consider how we are the villain in someone else’s story?
Would this not humanize us all a bit more.
on love and loss
‘all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice” has always been something I truly believed in.
how do you define love when no two loves are the same?
how do you move on from a love lost when you know there’s never anything that can replace it?
and then to love someone who you can never love again, who is gone forever, what do you do with that love?
does it go away? does it transform into a new feeling? is a love lost still a love?
do any of these questions come with answers or do we continue to fall and to fawn and to shatter into pieces, just to build them back up and do it all again?
what is this tendency towards one another that we can’t seem to escape, why is the human experience in and of itself not enough.
the more I learn the less I know.
small magic
I have been jumping from ledge to ledge for the past five years. Putting up with bad behaviour, letting people treat me however they wanted, as long is it meant I could survive. I wanted to desperately to leave where I came from, not because of my family, who has persevered and loved each other no matter what the world throws at us, but because I found it impossible to escape my past while starring it in the face everyday. A constant reminder of all that we have lost. There are pictures of ghosts all over my house. It is inescapable.
What you realize about these ghosts is that they become all that you have, along with the memories. The people you want to be around in the midst of tragedy, in the midst of success, are the people that have seen your ups and downs and loved you still. Some people are not capable of this. Some people will throw you under the bus as soon as things get hard. That’s okay. This is your journey not theirs. People don’t owe you anything, just as you don’t owe anyone anything.
I refuse to allow myself to be shrank down to a more palatable version of myself. I refuse to stop standing up for myself, no matter how people choose to label me. I hear all the rumours, I hear all the gossip, I am intimately aware of the many ways in which people hate me and yet all it does is motivate me to keep doing what I’m doing; people will always fear what they can’t capture. I am not like anyone else and anyone who doesn’t see that, can not see their own magic, so how could I expect them to see mine?
letter from a girl who also lost her brother.
Welcome to the club. It’s a club that no one wants to be a part of and memberships are non refundable. While no two memberships are the same, there are some parts that remain consistent.
Most people won’t understand. That’s okay. Some people will act like it’s not a big deal. It is. Don’t let anyone invalidate your feelings or tell you how to feel. This is your loss and you get to feel it however makes sense to you.
When you experience a loss, any loss, but especially one so monumental, at such a young age, it forces you to grow up in a way that most people never will. It may feel like your childhood was stolen from you.
When your friends complain about their brothers, you may smirk a little to yourself, because you know you would give everything to fight with your brother.
It is incredibly challenging to watch your parents lose a child. It will test your family in ways you never imagined. You may feel helpless. You may feel confused, you’re supposed to be the kid, but now you’re comforting your parents. Lean on each other.
People will tell you stories. Listen. Always listen. Those little moments help you keep them close.
As time passes, you may feel frustrated or sad or even angry as you begin to forget little things about them. It’s okay. You will never lose their memory completely.
When you start to enjoy things again, you may feel guilty. Ignore it. That guilt is the just the pain of your loss masquerading itself. You are allowed to have a happy, full life still. Do it for him, it’s what he would want.
It can be hard to listen to people talk about loss who have not experienced what you have, you may feel jealous even, that they don’t know your pain. That’s okay. Try to turn it into gratitude; gratitude that the people you love and care about don’t have to hurt the way that you do.
As someone who knew your brother, know that he loved you guys more than anything. He wanted you guys to feel loved unconditionally, all the time, and that kind of love never dies.
pretty words for wicked girls 