Do Not Fall. (Reblog)

I need to hear this too right now.

Pooky's Poems

Do not fall;
Hold on.
Find a foot hold,
A hand,
A voice
Or a memory
That keeps you in the now.
Smell it,
Feel it,
Hear it,
Taste it,
Do not fall;
Hold on.

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Community. (Reblog)

Right here
Are people that understand
Realising past mistakes and changing
Is enough
You were never meant to suffer
The struggle is not deserved
It is just there for now
Hold on
We are patient

Sidereal Catalyst

I am aching to belong… to something …or somewhere, with like-minded, like-hearted souls.

People who get it, without tired explanations and long-winded discussions trying to impart understanding.

People who lift you up because that’s their magic, and they don’t judge and they’re not made uncomfortable by your difficult emotions.

People who don’t make it feel like an inconvenience, they are delighted to chat, be it happy or sad in topic.  I think some people call these types of relationships friends but I’m wary of such titles.  I fear I’ve failed at holding that title myself, and thus karma has given me what I’ve deserved in return.

I ache for a sense of community.

Are you out there somewhere, community?  Just waiting for me to poke my head in and say hi…

I’ve lost my way, I think my GPS is wrong or something.

SOS

{A}

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I Wish I Was Special [A poem about suicide – trigger warning]. (Reblog)

So many beautiful people are struggling right now. This poem is a reminder of what we all need to know.

Pooky's Poems

I wish I was special,
She cried
As she caught sight of her reflection.
Tears streaked her face.

She clung onto her palm full of pills
As if for dear life,
Though it was death,
Not life,
She hoped they’d bring.
She did not want to die
But she could not face this life any more.

She had sat this way for hours,
Rocking,
Crying,
On the brink of the action
Which would take away the pain,
But without the motivation to do it.
Which made her feel
Ever more a failure.

A voice penetrated her bubble,
A hand gently took hers,
Brushing the damp, crumbled pills away,
And soothing her with tiny movements.
You are special.
Said the voice,
You just can’t see it now.
You won’t see it tomorrow,
Or the next day,
But one day you will.
I’ll teach you,
If you’ll let me try.

The world…

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A Detailed Request. (Reblog)

A close friend, poet and writer, who I first met here on WordPress, is struggling with a relapse of Anorexia.

She is a professional working in adolescent mental health, specialising in eating disorders (with an understanding from her own experiences) and these are the bravest words I have read in a very long time.

http://www.inourhands.com/mental-health/eating-disorders/to-the-friends-who-want-to-help-me-some-ideas/

I wanted to share them with you, not just as an example of what helps someone in that situation, but also as a beautiful example of understanding one’s own struggles, of how to ask for help, and of how much a struggle mental illness can be.

In these darkest of times, wishing you love and light, dear Pooky.

 

 

the semicolon project (Reblog)

So much wisdom and helpful thoughts here.

hpwritesblogs

FullSizeRender-1FullSizeRender Today I went to a tattoo artist, and for $60 I let a man with a giant Jesus-tattoo on his head ink a semi-colon onto my wrist where it will stay until the day I die. By now, enough people have started asking questions that it made sense for me to start talking, and talking about things that aren’t particularly easy.

We’ll start here: a semi-colon is a place in a sentence where the author has the decision to stop with a period, but chooses not to. A semi-colon is a reminder to pause and then keep going. 

In April I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. By the beginning of May I was popping anti-depressents every morning with a breakfast I could barely stomach. In June, I had to leave a job I’d wanted since I first set foot on this campus as an incoming freshmen because of my mental…

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Pretence. (reblog)

This really caught my thoughts, I know these words-as-feelings too. So much communicated, so clearly, with so few words.

Poems and Petals

Is my smile too wide
Is my laugh too loud
Am I too happy?

If I smile and wave
And I call your name
Will I reveal myself?

If I smile and blush
And speak out loud
Will my feelings show?

Should I just be still
Or if I look your way
Will it be a stare?

Am I too happy?

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simple. (Reblog)

Because every, careful, word here; talks to me, and is from me; complexly simple and confusingly familiar.

pushing our limits

simple.
but with complexity
that is so strong.

not the fragility
of every other moment
shared amongst
so many
who never cared
to understand
MY complexity.

who never thought
beyond what my
magic
could offer them.

who never attempted
to help me
find MY purpose.

simple.

gloriously
intoxicatingly
bewilderingly
simple.

because
the little things
completely
outnumber
the big things.

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establish touch (Reblog)

Beautiful. A perfect description of slowing down, with the perfect reasons to.

My Ink-Stained Heart

Stop moving.

Sit still.

Let me touch your hair.

Let me hold your hand.

Don’t rush.

Hold on.

Run your hand down my side.

Run your eyes down my face.

Keep calm.

Stay here.

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Solace. (Reblog)

Words from yesterday, meet my mind today, and carry me through tomorrow.

She's in Prison

Solace  There’s a divide in the memories, skating the line of nostalgia and regret, submerged both in deep admiration for the moments worth holding and drowning at the same time, gasping for resolution, for forgiveness, finding solace only in knowing that tomorrow’s memories  are whole, yet to be broken by mistakes or the complexities of emotion.

Today is a brand new day, a day to let go, a day to take hold, a day to live in the moment. We are all shaped by our histories. They are written in the scars in our skin and the rhythms of our hearts, but those marks of yesterdays do not dictate who we will be today. Let what once was live in memory. Laugh at the good ones and learn from the bad ones. Remember, you are always moving forward.

–Leanne Rebecca

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