when do you hit the point in taking t where you become emotionally stunted and don't feel your heart break over everything

hey, do you know any anti-suicidal poems?

sending you love and strength

“The Thing Is” and “The World Has Need of You” by Ellen Bass

“Six Months after Contemplating Suicide” by Erika L. Sánchez

“Night Walk” by Franz Wright

“To the Young Who Want to Die” by Gwendolyn Brooks

“Da Capo” by Jane Hirshfield

“Antilamentation” and “I Never Wanted to Die” by Dorianne Laux

“What The Living Do” by Marie Howe

“Most Days I Want to Live” by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

“Invitation” by Mary Oliver

“I Am Not Ready To Die Yet” by Aracelis Girmay

+ this excerpt from Cherry by Mary Karr (“That’s how you acquire the resolution for survival that the coming years are about to demand. You don’t earn it. It’s given.”)

i can't help describing everything to myself when it feels like im floating out of my body, it doesn't help. im watching people pass in the parking lot from where i haven't moved in hours. i can't hold on to anything to keep me from floating away i can see my eyes start to unfocus and my vision starts to blur and i can't stop it i just watch it float away and i look down at my unmoving body and scream to come back to stop letting myself go but i haven't moved in hours and im watching people pass by in the parking lot.

i wonder if anyone looks up. if i open my window i can hear every conversation, nose travels surprisingly well up to my third floor window. but i don't think they can hear me, only if i yell, and i can never find my voice, and besides the thought of calling out is absurd.

i see my friends pull in after going out for food. i keep taking a breath trying to convince myself to yell hi, i can hear them, they're talking about their classes, i remember that i share a class with one now, though we sit on separate sides. after trying in whispered tones i yell out her name. she doesn't hear. i try again but by the last syllable i taper off, losing any nerve i had gathered. i text her, that i saw her, she sends an emoji, there's no conversation.

i haven't moved in hours. im sitting watching people pass by. it's too cold to leave the window open so i close it and sit in the quiet of my room. the buzz of the mini fridge maintaining an ambience. there's nothing but alcohol and mixers in there. not that i could stomach anything right now, my half eaten lunch/breakfast/dinner sits on the desk. it's been hours i should put it in the fridge at least. but then that's admitting im not going to eat it, at least not today. i still log the whole meal though.

it's getting darker by the minute, i can't tell how much time has passed. i get up for a minute, moving from the bed to the floor. i remember how lonely and pathetic i feel and cry. i look so disgusting when i cry. i reach over and turn on my lamp, but i won't put on my glasses. i contemplate everything.

i laugh to myself remembering a conversation from when i was drunk the night before in someone's basement. she asked me, "why do i never see you? we should really hang out more!" i replied "well i really never leave my room, i mostly just cry all day! and also im just really weird and uncomfortable to be around!" and then we both laughed and i changed the subject.

i decide i need to get out of my room it suddenly feels stifling. i put on an extra layer and grab a cigarette and a lighter and head down the stairs to the back entrance of my building. i already have it lit as i walk out the door. i wander and sit on a bench while i smoke. i had to clear the snow off but at least there was a set of footprints leading to the steps. as i sit i try not to think. i hear people sledding, enjoying the weather with friends. it reminds me of a childhood i didn't have. someone walks by and i give a half wave but they quickly look away when i make eye contact. stranger danger i suppose, you shouldn't trust a strange man smoking alone.

im alone again and my cigarette is at it's end. i watch it flicker stark against the snowflakes falling around. i put it out on my leg, i know it won't be noticable. i turn around and walk back inside. i am acutely aware that i smell like smoke. i am also aware that since the coat i was wearing used to be my mother's, it already smelled like cigarettes. i go back to my room.

i sit down and i feel my body start to float away. i have to clean, i have work to do and i spent my whole day staring out a window.

all i wish is for us to stay in bed together forever. cuddling under the blankets with your hands wrapped around me, pulling me as close as humanly possible.

Me to my girlfriend’s squishmellows the second she leaves the room

hi here's a list of contemporary poetry that i have personally read & recommend. currently 173 titles, free PDF download to reference as you look for new books to read <3 enjoy!!

i stare in the mirror for hours. i stare at my reflection of myself staring in the center of my eye. I'm trying to see what i look like when your face is next to mine. I'm trying to find what you see in me. i reach out to my own reflection pretending that you're there. imagining that you're here.

seeing you,

i stopped and stared for a moment of infinity.

 you took my breath away,

as if I never learned the meaning of oxygen.

despite,

 the desperate brevity of inevitable heartbreak.

 remaining ignored,

in the name of an instantaneous attraction. 

Crashing

i can't keep looking back at the past until i go blind.

right now, we might be moving too recklessly;

i suppose, i don't care.

speeding on a ride of love and attraction, that can only end in flames;

but when we crash, it will have been worth it.

to have flown with gods after crawling up from hades

The Power of Strange

A transparent ghost sauntering through the halls. A crumbling brick hiding deep within a strong facade. A blank canvas of emptiness, not purity, not potential. But a void.

But you hold a special power;

Being Strange.

This power let you peek under my door, and make my skin opaque. When groups of ten or twelve or three walked by right in front of me, you stopped, and saw my solid form.

You hold a special power; 

Being Strange.

This power let you look between the mortar. To see that even though I seemed strong like the rest, I was crumbling inside. My core was full of cracks, but still, you saw beauty. And you took the time to skillfully repair my pieces.

You hold a special power;

Being Strange.

A brush loaded with brilliant color, you took the void and showed me the lie of it all. Thick paint splashed across my skin. Red. Blue. Yellow. Green.  Transforming what was nothing, into a new masterpiece. A solid person walking down these halls. A solid brick supporting your weight. A life full of color, potential realized.

I’m so thankful you took the time to see;

That I’m Strange too.

“The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From The Tree”

I suppose that means we're just products of whoever made us and we don't have much control. The thing is, when people use that phrase, they ignore the most critical part: the fall. Not falling isn't an option. So, if the apple has to fall, the most important question is what happens to it upon hitting the ground? Does it touchdown with barely a scratch? Or does it smash on impact? Two vastly different Fates. When you think about it, who cares about its proximity to the tree or what type of tree spawned it? What really makes all the difference, then, is how we land

Weaker

Prickling at my skin is a fire that can't be put out. Some may say fire should make you stronger, more powerful. Then why do I just feel small and weak? The fire is raging begging me to rip my skin and release it to the world. I want to be free of this flame that laps at my head late at night and begs me to extinguish it. I would if I could. I know that no matter how hard I try the fire will never die out, it may get smaller for a bit, but it will always be there. I can pour so much water until it sloshes along in my head or try and suffocate it until even I can't find air. Nothing works. No matter how far I thought I'd gone no matter how small I think the fire has become it will soon become so large with rage. And soon, it will consume me.