I Cannot Pretend
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poems about the intersection between neurodivergence and trauma…
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The Point Of Trying
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What’s the point of trying,
When my efforts leave me crying?
When my thoughts circle dying?
When I think everyone is lying?
What’s the point of trying,
If my bravest act is complying?
If it’s the deepest truths I’m denying?
If even greatness is unsatisfying?…
The (un)Happy Family
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Sure we seem normal from the outside,
But look closer and you will see,
The crevasses and cracks appearing,
In this happy family…
Memories Compress
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Memories compress,
In the recess of the mind.
Thoughts confined,
By the passing of time.
A shine dedicated
To a past divine.
The horrors expressed
So totally mine…
Other Than Here
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The inner storm meets outer calm.
A silent fury.
Impotent rage not expressed.
Other than here,
Other than now…
Memory Violation
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I use poetry as a form of writing therapy. This poem highlights how I was feeling in the moment about myself, the world and my place in it.
I was feeling significantly depressed, with thoughts of past trauma and feelings of low self worth mingling with the façade that I sometimes feel forced to adopt to fit in.
Read MoreI Over Thought It & Hurt My Own Feelings
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I was trying to represent both the suffering that we feel in response to trauma/triggers/BPD, combined with the seemingly selfish way we can at times take it out on those closest to us.
The ‘I’ in this story, even while repentant/sorrowful is still focused on it-self.
Yes there is suffering, but that suffering isn’t a justification to take it out on the innocent people that love us.
I also wanted to highlight the absolute overwhelm of emotions that trauma can cause. The spiral into darkness and the inevitable relationship breakdowns that result from such outbursts.
It takes a patient and empathetic person to tolerate that.
I Am Constant Change
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Who am I other than constant change?
Thoughts come and go,
Same with emotion, memory and desire,
I am not who I was a moment ago,
And who I am won’t last.
I am constant change,
I am the thread of time,
Birth to death,
Ever changing,
Ever growing,
Never the same…
Pandemic
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I use poetry as a form of therapy. This piece came as a response to the collective trauma that we are all currently navigating our way through.
My goal was to combine my inner feelings with those I am seeing from others. I also wanted to tell a story with this particular rhyming structure.
Read MoreDissociation
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I see myself, and I see myself seeing myself;
Trapped in an infinite regress.
Triggered.
I don’t know what I am,
Other than, that I am the ‘other’.
Separated.
I sit in the eye of the storm,
Enjoying the false calm…
