Evolving Emotions: Anger- Poetry

Morning

 

Flecks of glass across hardwood

shimmering in refreshed morning light

like faux emeralds.

 

Chair legs rest

splintered and sharp

near the toppled kitchen table

that you bought with her.

 

Looking down

knuckles: green and yellow

with blistery red accents.

 

Your eyes are red too

like burst fireworks

or spider webs.

 

Spent, you sit

on an old wine stain

the carpet carries

letting an empty home fill your head

with silence deserved.

 

Evolving Emotions: Sadness- Poetry

Anywhere

 

Most days I sit and think

about how I don’t want to be here

nor there

or anywhere.

 

Neither heaven

nor hell,

earth,

limbo,

a place beyond,

somewhere I can’t get back from,

a plane betwixt time and space,

a void of blank white walls,

a pit of darkness found

nowhere.

 

My lungs cave in

like they’ll shrivel and fall

caught by my ribs

clinging.

 

Ambivalence arrives

as tired tears

drop

 

Heavy limbs

weighed down

at the realization

 

that nowhere is impossible.

Inside me is nothing

and I cannot go there

 

so I must stay

until my days have passed

sitting and thinking

of a place neither here

nor there

or anywhere.

Evolving Emotions: Sadness- Short Story

Content Warning: Suicide, self-harm, depression, strong language

 

Last Night

“Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“I am talking to you.”

“No, Bram, you’re not. You’re pushing me away again,” Elexa said, snatching a cup from the cupboard and slamming it on the countertop. 

“Well, what do you want me to say? That I’m sorry for calling? Because I am.” The two lock eyes.

After a moment, Elexa slumps her shoulders, the aggression in her arms falling away. “No, I just-.”

“Look, I knew this wasn’t going to work.”

“Bram-.”

“What? It’s what we were both thinking, right? I never should’ve called you. It was stupid of me. I don’t know why I thought that I could-.”

“Bram, I’m glad you called me,” she says, reaching for his arm. He swiftly pulls away. She continues with stress building behind her eyes, “I care about you.”

Rubbing his face roughly, Bram says, “See? That’s the problem. I don’t need you or anyone else to pick up after my shit,” he declares with an exasperated smile and wide eyes.

Heat grazes Elexa’s cheeks at the comment. “That’s really cruel and you know it.” Her stance stiffens as she observes him.

“Elexa, don’t cry over this, okay?” he says, practically laughing. 

“Bram… if you hadn’t called me-.”

“I know,” Bram says, his smile fading slightly, “But maybe it would’ve been for the best.”

“For the best?” Now she was the one with the smile, perked up by the absurdity falling from his mouth. “Not having you on this Earth is for the best? Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Can you stop making such a big deal over this?” Bram asks, aggressively waving his hands in the air.

Elexa presses her palms into the edge of the countertop, displacing all of the weight she feels onto the granite. “Bram, it is a big deal.” She stares at him as if she could show him what she sees. Her heart sinks, knowing it won’t. “I think you should see someone.”

“Elexa, I don’t fucking need someone, alright?” His firm tone dissipates into a cracking jumble. He looks to the floor, tilting his head as far from her gaze as his neck would permit.

“You could’ve died last night, and you don’t want to see someone about it?” Lifting her hands to her head, she rests them there, elbows outstretched, awaiting a reply. 

Bram opens his mouth, then stops short. “No,” Bram finally mumbles. “I don’t.” His speech is monotone, utterly void of appropriate emotion.

“So what are you going to do then, huh?” Elexa asks, taking her hands from her head to the nape of her neck. 

“I don’t know,” Bram whispers. He wipes across his face and looks back to the tiled floor.

Tears begin to well up in Elexa’s eyes, swirling around in her vision. She chokes them down, causing her throat to dry up. “You don’t know?” Her throat clenches harder, holding back everything he means to her. 

After a few steadying breaths and an unsatisfactory swallow, she says, “We both know you aren’t okay. Especially after last night, but even before that. To see you struggle night after night is fucking torture. And I see through it every time you’ve tried to hide it.” She pauses. “Either you get help or I have to leave.”

“I want you to leave,” he says bitterly. “I’m done. Just go.”

“You know you can cut the ‘high and mighty’ bullshit. You are a coward. You’re scared that I will judge you. That the world will judge you. You’re scared to be known. You’re scared that now that I’ve seen you like you were on that bathroom floor that you’ve ruined the disguise that kept me around. I know who you are and I’m still here. I still love you.”

Bram falls silent. With glossy eyes and a clenched jaw, he resumes his previous position, memorizing the cracks and patches of dust on the flooring. 

“I’ve said what I need to say.” Elexa backs up from the countertop and crosses her arms. “But just promise me-.”

“That it won’t come to that again?” Bram interjects, lifting his head up to face her. “That everything will be okay? You know I can’t promise that.” His voice is tinted with that dullness again. 

“Then stay,” Elexa says in a whisper. 

“I can’t. I shouldn’t have gotten this close to you in the first place.”

“Please.”

“Goodbye Elexa,” Bram says, exiting the kitchen, twisting the doorknob, and, with a simple click, separating them for the final time.

***

Please reach out if you or someone you know is in immediate danger or experiencing suicidal thoughts. You are not alone.

911

988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline

CAPS After Hours Urgent Support: 734-764-8312

UM Psychiatric Emergency Services: 734.996.4747

UM Sexual Assault Prevention and Awareness: 734.936.3333

Department of Public Safety and Security: 734.763.1131

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1.800.273.TALK (1.800.273.8255)

The Trevor Lifeline: 1.866.488.7386

Crisis Text Line:  741741

Evolving Emotions: Sadness-Poetry

Eyes of Stained Glass

 

Baggy sweatpants cling to feeble legs

stale and stiff

needed to be washed days ago.

 

She didn’t wash them. Like her shoes,

her shoes that were stained,

ruined from a soiled world.

 

And her hair. Curled

but not elegantly. More like unkempt, uncared for,

a nest on her head. Displayed, but not proudly.

 

Cowering behind her mask,

her appearance in ruins,

but with no name attached.

A person in crisis, no doubt. But who is she?

 

Beneath coiled knots are worried eyes,

eyes scared to death over lies

told. Doing ‘fine’ but less alive

the more she lingers.

 

A mass throbbing in her head,

welling in eyes of stained glass

 

A sickening black

exhalations into evening air,

with a feeling of lack

and indifference.

 

A dull exterior,

squirming insides inferior

She was something

made into nothing.

Evolving Emotions: Sadness

Things get heavy and sometimes feel inescapable, like you’re drowning in a sea of thoughts or worries. Know that the sky will clear but for now, let the clouds rain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life is difficult most of the time. We’re all on our respective journeys, battling it out against ourselves and our circumstances. Be kind to yourself in your current state of mind.

 

 

 

 

 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zYeJuztwfo3q2dQwU-gnyvkPDvDHgHkHOcOoOdsm1rM/edit?usp=sharing

 

 

 

Pain doesn’t abide by schedules or deadlines. If things need processing, they need processing. There is nothing wrong with taking the time you need to heal, whether physically or emotionally. It will all be better in its own time and on your terms.