teenage-confessionals
confessional poetry
she/he/they - minor - don't use without credit
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today i called the suicide hotline just to have someone to talk too
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god why do i feel so alone?
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i think i’m a boy because i want to date men but not as a women and i’m so confused and lost
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i think i’m a boy and i don’t know what to do about it
can someone tell me what to do?
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crying in grocery store isles over bags of frozen peas and wasted time
heartbreak is a funny thing
nothing is wrong but everything hurts
underground parking garages and no cell service
sitting in the car like someone is going to get in and put on their favorite song
walking the line between existing and disappearing
thinking about sneaking out in the dead of night and running far far away
#poetry#writing#spilled ink#words#sapphic feels#poets on tumblr#poetscommunity#poems#poetic#poets corner
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there is something so fucking morbid about the thought that we've never actually touched each other because of some weird atom thing.
like i don't like to be touched pretty much all the time and this still makes me want to cry.
because it means in some weird sad way we are all actually alone
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"today, tomorrow, and yesterday"
today i sat down in front of a blank page and thought about writing
tomorrow i'll write three words and then tear the page out of the notebook
yesterday i didn't open the notebook and i barely thought about anything other than my heavy limbs in the darkness of my bed
today i took a shower as best i could
tomorrow i'll think about drowning myself as i am dragged to the community pool
yesterday i sat in the shower in a tee shirt 3 sizes too big and cried, letting my hatred wash down the drain with the soap
today i considered dying my hair blue
tomorrow i'll go to the drug store and stare at the hair dye boxes until the colors swim in my eyes
yesterday i pulled at my hair until my scalp hurt because the brown was too boring, too ordinary and i hated it briefly
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cold water runs from the stream into my palm
wheels on my feet and wings on my finger tips
the air outside matches the water and i can’t seem to get words out of my mouths
suddenly i’m 8 and i don’t know how to move
sitting and tapping photos as if someone would understand what i want to say
walking three steps is like trying to climb a mountain
i’m paralyzed in the park and my hands shake numb
someone helps me home and i lie in bed
random thoughts pool in my head like water in my hand
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“a tantrum as a dance”
i’m angry
that’s the first thing that registers with me when the tears start rolling
there are other emotions behind the anger but i don’t care enough to try to read them
i step onto the stage and take my place in the middle
the audience is empty as i collapse on the ground and shake with silent sobs
i gasp and suddenly i am graceful again
dancing in a hurricane of my own creation
when the leaping begins i try my best not to slip and fall into my sorrow
i lay on the stage and kick my legs in the air like i’m six years old and didn’t get something i wanted
and as the performance ends i take a bow and forget why i was on stage in the first place
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thank you to @emmedoesntdomath and @if-i-hate-the-headline my tumblr comments are being fucking weird
"the time we had together"
my mom washed my favorite hoodie
your conditioner used to cling to the fibers
whispering “remember me” when I'd tried to forget
the mosquito bites have faded into scars leaving just the jagged remains behind
the lake water doesn’t rest in my hair anymore and you wear your new glasses everyday
the twin mattress that we lay on not even 9 months ago sits dust covered and moth bitten under my bed
no more quiet touches and soft embraces will happen there anymore
your hand left a permanent indent on my back where you used to rest it
and as much as I beg at it it won’t go away, forcing me to unwillingly remember
the wooden swing sits empty
a haunting of what once was
your hair ghosts at my knees as I sit alone on our the rotting swing
the ukulele you took is gone too
maybe its abandoned somewhere, cobwebs sticking to its strings waiting for some other damned souls to set it to music again
my throat is hoarse
i'm choking out words to a song I used to know but there is no melody to them
we aren’t drifting anymore
the pot sink is abandoned but the bruise on my arm is still there
no one is pushing me back against the sink and no one is there to laugh with me
certainly no one is there to see me cry
tears hitting the drain, the most water the metal basin has seen in months
my hands are still raw and peeling but are yours like they used to be? when you grabbed my waist for the first time?
i'm looking for the tiger ears but they as gone as the goodbye you left me
the kitchen door isn’t swinging anymore and there is no one there to kiss the tears off the side of my mouth
the only tears that roll down my neck are mine as I stand watching the swirling chaos of passing time
trying in vain to grab on to a second we had together even if it meant seeing your body heave with sobs after our last goodbye
even if it meant that last I love you had to shatter because of me
because in the end all I wanted was more time, one more day, hour, minute, second, a prolonged goodbye even if it was just for a moment
just so I could stop crawling and catch my breath
and stop hearing the last splintering I love you over and over and over again
playing like a broken record for me to hum the tune of our goodbyes to
i'll never be able to run fast enough
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summer air makes it harder to breathe and there seems to be a haze over the trees
my lungs burn with the thought of having to make it through another year
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“everyone is lonely right?”
i ask myself that sitting alone on a bench in a park 4 miles from my house
watching kids play and seeing myself at 7 years old running around with them
my mom calls and i don’t pick up
idly i wonder if the two friends i’ve had since middle school are doing anything but i don’t want to ask
my therapist wants me to make more friends
she’s never said that outright but i think it’s implied
i don’t want to but that’s normal
at least for me it is
sitting on that park bench i start to think about why i’m there
i think it started when i say them in a group at the mall
buying the same underwear and smoothies
or when there were pictures of the pool on instagram
but everyone is as lonely as i am
they have to be, right?
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i don’t understand passing time and yet i still try to run from it
days pass by into months and my heart keeps beating
my favorite songs sound the same but the melody of my life changes minute by minute
i was never a track star anyway
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i feel so big and then i look at the sky and i remember i mean nothing
so i’ll sit on my front porch steps in the middle of the night staring at my hands and begging for forgiveness
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introductions
me^^
name: juniper/roy (legal neame: elizabeth but yeah no)
pronouns: she/he/they/it/neopronouns (kit and em)
sexuality: asexual lesbian
age: 17
grade: going into junior year (got held back a year yeehaw)
from: minnesota
height: 5'7 (standing up)
zodiac: pisces
things to know: i'm autistic and i have adhd (i'm mainly nonverbal), and use a wheelchair currently, i fucking love poetry (hence this account) but my special interest(s) are forensics and literature/writing, uhhh some other shit i guess <- i like to read.. idk
dislikes: shrimp, when peppers touch things, doctors offices, the way nurses look at you in the hospital, special programs in school, football, the way kids screeching sounds, middle school boys who think they're funny, assholes, hospital blankets, when i sleep too close to the floor, AACs (they fucking suck), when your hand is too dry to touch paper and it doesn't feel good, and sweat
likes: the way rain sounds, my grandparent's garage, driving (i can't drive - not legally allowed to :/ - but i like being in the car with my mom), MUSIC, noise cancelling headphones, my mcr shirt that is the most comfortable thing i own, big sweaters, my bed, sleep, sign language (it vibs), my nalgene, friends, the nurses that used to sneak me snacks when i was a kid, running (i miss that), live music (i never go b/c it's too loud and not accessible but still), fields - running in fields, and my therapy dog (his name is arnold but i call him mr. wags - in my head i told this to my dad once and he thought it was really funny)
#sapphic feels#writing#words#poetry#spilled ink#introducing post#introductory post#introducing myself#introduces#introduction#autism#actually neurodiverse#neurodivergence#wheelchair
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<33333
ACCOUNT HYPE
hi so my friend just started her first tumblr account and she writes poetry and it's really fucking good so please go check her out she's amazing and one of my best friends @confessional-of-a-teenager
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last time i checked i had 29 bug bites and i itch them just so they bleed
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