"My work is mainly all about my experience with the dark side of mental health. It is bleak but eye-opening. It's cathartic, but gut wrenching. I hope it is received well and that others get more of an understanding of what it's like to live a life of a mentally ill queer person!"
A comfy chair
And loud chatter is all I need
To go somewhere
More different than
What my eyes lay upon hear
Bouncy chair and lungs
filled with warm air
With green tea on my tongue.
I feel the light from the clerestory
Windows blind me with its rays
Off in my silly head again,
wondering when it will feel heavy again,
And then try to lift it up from my neck again
And then wonder if I should be lifting weights at the gym,
and gaining strength just to feel better again.
Oh, sorry… I didn’t mean to be so grim.
Sometimes my eyes dart to the corner of the room so dim,
and I look to see if something is there
only to see particulars in the air.
Away, somewhere in the far distance,
The grinding of beans.
I wonder what that art on the wall means,
I wonder what that cloud in the sky means
I wonder what the mere breath out of my nose means.
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so deep,
But sometimes I can’t help
But to be so easily intrigued
By the little details of what makes my
World so hard to live in…
Yet other days so pleasing to dip my feet in
It feels so cold in here, but I will stay…
sat on this old, worn out, bouncy blue chair,
Listening as the world goes by,
and I am but a frog on a stump.
Reaching the age now,
Where I’ve been an adult
For a little under 6 years,
Only to become more confused and add
more fears to the collection
I heard once that it should all make sense
When you are older,
I’ve been older since grade four, when does
it start to click?
I walk these city streets now
And I just think back to when
I was not responsible for future of future me,
And now I bear the guilt as if I was.
Because I could have prevented
The inevitable occurrence of my life
Becoming a cave in which i have to find
The strength by myself to do what it takes
To make it out.
However, I was guilt tripped and trapped
By the guise of parental love, without a
Map or a light, and now I’ve grown scared of the dark.