How to Win a War

Heroes salute heroes,
Music rings out
From the streets,
And hands are outstretched
To those
Who are in need.

An unknown being
With no known cure
Kills us off
By the thousands,
Attempting to
Tear us apart.
But still we stand
Hand in hand
Six feet apart.

We video call,
We send letters,
We spend time
With family
And characters
In books.

We challenge each other
On TikTok,
We spread news
On Twitter,
We support each other
On Facebook,
We connect
On Zoom.

Many things are cancelled
Or will be soon,
But what all of this
Has taught me,
Is to believe
In humanity

Coronavirus Stress

How am I
Supposed to focus
When my mind
Is in a million
Different places?

That thing
That person sain
On Instagram,
The work
I need
To catch up on,
The people
Who are dying
From a virus,
Trapped inside
And can't visit
My friends.

What if I'm tired
Of being strong?
How
Can I take a break?
When
Can I get this break?


3/22/20

Listen 2nd ed

Why is my brain

Like earbuds tangled

Straight out of

A pocket unorganized?

Distraction like a dog

Hunting down a squirrel

Darting up a tree--

Barking all along the way.

Mood like swings

When we were kids,

But dragging along

The woodchips

Beneath our toes,

Struggling to soar above.

Repetition like a

Broken record,

Broken record,

Broken record,

No record of an end.

Like a tree

Towering over

A crushed rose,

The crumpled petals

Merely a memory

Of what trauma

Occurred before.

A tug-of-war

Between

“Should I speak?”

“Should I share?”

And

“I don’t want to

Burden them.”

“They wouldn’t care.”

If only they were to

Slow

Down,

Consider my

Different way of

Speaking,

And read

What I can't verbalize.

My voice is found

In the place it takes

Care to look

And consideration

To hear.

A Breath of Fresh Air

It's a breath
Of fresh air.

I can
Stroll through
The halls
With a
Real smile
On my face.

For once,
I'm able to leave the
Well-worn mask
At home.

I have the strength
To push away
The voices scrambling
To get to me.
"You're too happy."
"Are your meds
Wearing off?"
"Get that grin
Off your face
And act like
A normal person."

I don't care.
Everything is brighter--
Glowing, even.

I've pulled myself out
Of the quicksand
That I so quickly
Find myself in.

The Power of a Name

Each time
I hear that name,
The one offered to me
By my parents,
A weight is added,
Like someone dropped
A stone into my backpack.

Family gatherings.
Another stone.
A sub taking attendance.
Another stone.
College mail.
Another stone.
Student ID.
Another stone.

But
When I hear MY name,
The one I CHOSE,
A stone is taken out.
A teacher calling MY name.
A stone is taken out.
A friend calling MY name.
A stone is taken out.
A package with MY name.
A stone is taken out.

A name

Is more than

A label.

It is more than

“Bookworm"

Or "chorister".

Each name

Conceals a story.

Summary

School and sleep
Are my only protectors
From these demons
Inside my mind.

But when I wake,
Thy tell me
I shouldn't even try.
No one would notice
If I skipped
A day or three.

I stare in the mirror
Another person
Staring back.
Emotions fade
Into nothing.
Numb.

They're back.
Dragging me
Down with them,
I can't get
A handle
On them

Screams fill my mind.
I have nowhere to hide.
School is where they slow,
But racing
The rest of the time.

These screams.
They silence
Any voice
Of my own
I may own.

Demons strangle me
Until I'm begging
For mercy.
I can't hide.
I can't cry.
I can't breathe.

They tell me
I shouldn't even try.

Even when
I try to tumble
Off my bed,
Not a muscle moves.

Instead,
The voices get louder,
Insisting I'm
Not good enough
Not strong enough
Not skinny enough
Not smart enough
Not brave enough.
So why try?


1/15/20

Nothing and Everything

It's that moment
When every muscle
Clenches,
Preparing for
What's next.

You choke back
The tears swelling
At the corner of each eye
And fight for them
To stay back
So you don't
Give in
And let them
Drop
  Drop
     Drop.

Each bead
Tumbles down
Each cheek
Into your ear,
Creating a path
For the next pair
To follow.

Soon enough,
You're balling.
The idea
Of covering this up
Is laughable.

You've faked
Being fine
Enough times
You've learned
How to hide.

Stroke the tears away,
Sniffle
Inhale,
Exhale.
You're "fine"
Until that person passes.
Then it starts all over.

I knew
This would come.
Nearly every
Good day,
I think to myself.
"I'll enjoy this
While it lasts."

I knew I'd fall soon,
I just didn't know
How soon
Or how far.

The clock strikes
Midnight.
I should've known.
Cinderella needed
To sleep sooner
To stop
The slips
Into holes
Of depression.

Funny,
Isn't it?
When you are
So hurt and
So depressed yet
So numb.
You can't make
Those beads
Fall.

It's almost worse.
That means
There's no release.

I feel nothing
And everything
And I can't do anything
About it.


1/11/20

I Can't

I'm stranded.

I can't yell

I can't scream

I can't walk

I can't run

I can't escape

My own head

My own thoughts.

I need school to

Come back.

I need consistency

But I need stress-free.

I need a reminder

People care,

But I can't get that

Without the stare

Of homework 

And tests

And stress.

I hate this feeling

Or lack thereof.

I'm numb.

I'm stuck.

I'm paralyzed.

I'm stranded.

1/3/20

There's No Place Like Home

There's no place like home.

Nemo the duck
Rested his beak
On my finger.
Or did he nibble me?

Joining chess.
No one could
Stop me from playing.

Tested for the
Gifted program
For 4th grade.

Sailing high
On the swings,
Praying no one
Would want
To take my place.

Sense of accomplishment from
Climbing the spider dome,
But terrified

To come back down.

Mini Olympics.
Chalk talk,
Hoola hoops
And scooter relays.
Weaving between swings.

Outdoor assembly.
A guy lays on nails,
Demonstrating weight distribution.

Romeo and Juliet
From Ms. Gruber
And Ms. Nelson's classes.

"Tute-a-lute flute"
On the way to Music
To learn the recorder.

Discovering I could
Play nearly any instrument in band,
Sticking with trombone
For a couple months.

Performing "We Are The World"
And a walkthrough
At 5th grade graduation.

There's no place like home.

Choir in the Orchestra Pit

A family.
I say it constantly,
But it's true.

The magic happens
Above us and
Surrounds us.
Each bow
Glides in sync,
Air whistles
Through oboes
And bassoons boom.

A blanket of stage smoke
Pours over the edge
And dissipates into
Thin air.

Tip-taps of toes
Click above us
As ballet skippers
Skate across the stage

One Song in Our Hearts

Our hearts beat
In time
With the music
In our hearts
And in our souls.

It's a bond
Nothing else can form.
In that moment
When our vocal cords
Are identical,
That is when
The magic happens.

We are
One voice,
One body,
One mind,
One soul.

We pour
Our heart
Our soul
Into every note
We breathe.

The room trembles
With delight
As we get that
Measure down
We've worked on
For weeks.

Not just anyone
Can pull it off.
Not just friends
Can pull it off.
It takes a family.


11/17/19

Done.

I'm sorry
I'm not considerate enough
I'm sorry
I talk too much
I'll try
To be silent
I'll try
To be your puppet.

Not take a shower
When I feel
I'm falling apart?
Done.

Not wipe my tears
After crying
Until I'm dehydrated?
Done.

Not move a muscle
Because I might
Step on your toes?
Done.

Stop acting
Like you
Stop being
Me
Stop feeling
Like a being?
Done.


11/24/19

Here and Now

Right now,
I'm focusing on
Rescuing myself.
I'm focused on
Keeping myself alive.

I'm trying my best
Just to not have
A flashback.

I'm already stressed
About college.
About FAFSA.
I'm stressed about
In two and a half years
When I have to worry about
Transferring and all that stuff
That goes with that.

I'm well aware
Of all the stuff
I have to do
And I consistently
Ask any questions
That might spring up,
Maybe not to you,
But to the college reps.

I've gone to the college night.
I' looking for the dates
For college visits
That I won't be able to attend
For the next
Two and a half years.

I get
You want me
To be prepared.
I get
You want me
To succeed.
And I get
You're trying to make sure
You cover everything.

But please.
I'm stressed as it is.
Assignments now,
College next year.
College in two years.

Don't I have
Enough on my plate?
I'm already staring at it,
Scrambling to
Get it all in order.
It doesn't help
To be reminded
What is still left
That I already see.

I'm juggling
Everything else,
But I promise
I'll get it all
Before the deadline.

A Verbal Murder

At first
They were cuts.
Things I've heard before
That sting nonetheless.
But I'm used to it.
I've endured
Years of it.
Getting myself together,
Begging myself
Not to cry
That this time
He might just leave it
And let me breathe.

But this time is different.
There are still cuts
And the scars from before,
But now there are more.
They're mild,
But plentiful still.

And just when I think
You're giving me a break
The knife comes from
Behind you
And in one stab
You slashed
My skin
My heart
My hope.

And I screamed because
Anytime I was upset at you,
One thing still gave me hope.
One thing made me proud of you.
You never misgendered me.
No matter how mad or got
Or upset you got
Or disappointed or frustrated,
You would always respect
Who I was.

But instead,
You twisted the blade.
You made me lose
My pride in you
And the respect for myself.

See, I would die for you.
One might say that's not healthy,
But I wouldn't care
Because you're my big brother.

You were supposed to protect me.
You were supposed to
Keep away the thoughts that haunt me,
Keep away the bullies.
But instead,
You are one.

You could never apologize,
But I will always forgive you.
Why?
You're my big brother.
What else am I supposed to do?


10/26/19

A Different Perspective

In order to
Volunteer in video
At church,
I had to acknowledge
I am required
To report someone
Who says they are
Thinking of
Hurting themselves
Or someone else.

I had to report
My own friend.
Risking our friendship,
I still knew
What I had to do.
And now she's
Doing better.

So I understand
The requirements and
It's better to be
Safe than sorry,
But every time
I'm reported,
I end up sorry
And feel like
I need to quiet down.

I'm fine.
I promise.

I'm sorry
I said anything.
I'm sorry
I concerned you.
I hate concerning people.
It makes me feel like
I'm burdening them
When all I want to do
Is talk
And raise awareness.

See last week,
I hit report
Number ten.

I'm not the only one
Who feels this way.
There are many other
Students like me.
They just want to talk.

Or they might be suicidal,
But it's an emotion;
Not an action.

Like me,
They're receiving help,
So reporting
Does nothing.

What do you need me
To say
To convince you
I'm okay?

I understand
The obligation.
But if you're going
To report me,
Please tell me
So maybe I can
Put you
At some ease.

Now,
I 'm not
Angry,
Or upset,
Or anything
Of the like.

I just need you
To understand
A perspective
You might not hear.


9/28/19

Therapy Outside of Therapy

My poetry is my
Therapy outside of
Therapy.

I jot down my thoughts
And you call it negative.
I'm sorry my thoughts
Concern you,
But they're real.

The only way
To rid of them
Is out
On paper
Instead of out
On myself.

I've already done that,
And I don't feel like
Going back.

Fun fact:
You can be suicidal
And safe
At the same time.

It's not as severe,
It's not as often,
But it's there sometimes,
But I'm still safe.

Flowers fall apart
In the rain,
But they're
Just as healthy
The next day.


9/27/19

The Prince and His Cinderella

I'm a prisoner
In my own home.
My brother
Is the prince--
His girlfriend,
Cinderella.

She does the
Dirty work
At home,
But with him,
She's a queen.

She's the princess
And the pea
Needing silence
Every morning.
Speaking in
A normal voice
Is forbidden.

I want them gone,
Glass slippers
And all.
I thought
They'd be out
By the end
Of December,
But I guess
I was wrong.


9/25/19

Five Year Reflection

I've written so much
Over the last
Five years.

Life,
Loss,
Endings,
Beginnings,
Screaming,
Silence,
Joy,
Depression.

As I take a scroll
Down memory lane,
Emotions flood.
Then I come across one.

I almost took my life
That night.
I almost gave up
That night.
I almost gave in
That night.
It was a rough night
That night.
It was a rough life.

It is a rough life.
But I didn't
Give up.
And I can't
Give in.

I'm tired
And weak
And I've been
To hell and back.
But I'm still standing.
Even if I stumble,
And even if I fall,
I'll keep walking.


9/8/19

I Don't Know What Happened

I don't know what happened.
I just dropped.
My eyes starting to
Beg for tears
It seems like
For years
I don't know
What happened.

I don't know why
I feel this way.
No trigger was pulled.
Why does this have to be
What bipolar is like for me?

Of course my fall
Is once all my support
Is gone.
They're all home now.

But I'm left
Here in the hallway
Alone.
I don't want to talk.
There's nothing to talk about.
I just need a safe presence.
Someone who can
Treat it
Like a normal day.

I'm better
When I'm around them
Their energy
Fills me up
So high
The corners of my mouth
Rise with it.


9/4/19

I Spit Nonsense

I spit nonsense
In hopes
Someone will know
What I'm trying
To portray.

Silent screams
Displayed masks
Deathly alive
Stressful relaxation
Unmotivated productivity
Do you understand me yet?
Do I understand me yet?

Look at everyone
And see none,
Surrounded by
Someone named
No one.

See,
Recently I've been off.
Off-key
Off-verse
Off-me.

I'm broken
Or different
I don't know
What happened
But I say
Everything and
Nothing
At the same
Time.

How long
Will this last?
Will this ever
Be left in the past?

The Last Five Years

I've written so much
Over the last
Five years.

Life,
Loss,
Endings,
Beginnings,
Screaming,
Silence,
Joy,
Depression.


A I take a scroll
Down memory lane,
Emotions flood.
Then I come across one.

I almost took my life
That night.
I almost gave up
That night.
I almost gave in,
That night.
I was a rough night,
That night.
It was a rough life.

It is a rough life.
But I didn't
Give up.
And I can't
Give in.

I'm tired
I'm weak
And I've been
To hell and back,
But I'm still standing.
Even if I stumble
And even if I fall,
I'll keep walking

Three Years After The Book

Three years.

Different chair,

But same room.

Three years

Since it happened.

Different room,

Same class.

Same shared wall.

Three years

Since my first flashback—

My first time

Triggered by something

As simple and

As powerful

As a book.

The Absolutely True Diary

Of a Part-Time Indian.

A boy

Whose family struggles

With money—

A boy who struggles

With harassment.

I can’t exist

Within these walls

Without the memory

Of that book

Of the that test

In the department office.

One of my worst days.

But you see,

That book

May have saved me.

Without a diagnosis

Of PTSD,

Things could have been

Worse off

For me.

Now

I can breathe

When I think

About that book.

Now

I can function

When I see

That person.

Now

That barricade

Is broken down.

Now

I can manage

My way over.

"The Inner Web"

"We're caring."
"We're all in this together."
"We are a community"

I don't see
Complete respect
When I hear
"Retard".

I don't see
Community
When I see someone
Sitting alone.
Three thousand students
And there are still
Outcasts.

I don't see
"Rad"
When I hear
"Fag."
I'm sorry,
Am I not allowed
To say that?
Those who don't identify
Don't hear a word,
But it's wrong
For me?

Some of our
Eyes
Tongues
And lips
Are most productive
On the inter-web.

We are more connected.
We can reach out
Instantly
To another
Discreetly,
Not to bring attention
To our personal situation.

We can reach out,
Cry,
Scream,
And people
Can see us
In their feed
And speak to us.

But in the real world,
We hide behind
A mask of shadow,
Too scared
To publicly show
What's hurting us.

Behind a screen,
We can be honest.
We can see each other,
Not hidden behind
Hierarchy
And prejudice.

I don't see
"All in this together."
I see
Students crying
Behind closed doors,
Fearing face-to-face,
So they hide it--
Pretend they're fine
Until people buy it.

"Unplug by
Plugging in
For hours."
You don't understand.
I'm unplugging from
The hate
I hear,
The exclusion
I feel,
The danger
I fear.

I'm plugging into
Love and
Acceptance,
Safety and
Support.

If I unplug,
I miss joining movements,
Making a difference,
Gathering ideas
On how to make the world
A better place.

So tell me,
Is technology
So ugly?

If I Should Ever Have a Kid

I don't want you
To be on a
Constant roller coaster
And can never get off-
Only control some
Of how steep the drops get.

Hate how you look
So you restrict eating.
Counting every calorie,
Sneaking to the scale.

Have to do things repeatedly
And not know why.
1 2 3 4 5
1 2 3 4 5
1 2 3 4 5
1 2 3 4 5
1 2 3 4 5

Be distracted
And frustrated
Because you're different
From everyone else in your class.
Frustrated because you can't do
Simple things
Without taking
Twice as long
As every one else.

I don't want you
To take years
To finally feel like you're living
And not just surviving.

I want you
To be able to
Get out of bed
In the morning,
Happy,
Excited,
Ready
To start you day,
A new,
Exciting chapter
In your life.

See Them

Like salmon swimming upstream
When everyone else is
Taking the easy way
Downstream with the
Current
Currently ignorant
To the beings
Strolling past.
You see them
But don't see them

That girl
Yearns for
Approval.

That boy
Yearns
To be the
Best.

That person
Wants to feel heard,
But everyone
Strolls past them.

That girl
Feels more at home
At school
Than at home.

That boy
Seeks refuge
In distraction
In classes
From the nightmares
That are so real
Elsewhere.

That person
Feels more accepted
At school
Than anywhere else.

See the people
Strolling past.
Stop.
They need
Ease from their stress.
Please give them
Ease from their stress.