Winded by the emotion slamming into my chest, like a semi hitting a brick wall at a hundred mile an hour. Impossible to breathe, and yet I’m not sure I really want to. Will breathing really make a difference? Will it make sense of the irrational? Will it calm the mind long enough to gain focus, get my bearings, or find clarity? Will it prevent thoughts of a delusional, psychotic break? Will it tell me if I’m still connected to reality in any way? Or will asphyxiation bring peace and tranquility?

I Matter

I felt uncomfortable with your assumptions,
With the words you put into my mouth,
And the labels you placed on me.
Don’t think for a moment you know
The depth of my pain, the intensity of my anger,
Or the bewilderment of why.
Sure, you can help me find clarity,
But it should come from my perspective, not yours,
Because I don’t see the world from your experience.
I see it from mine, and as we discussed today,
I matter.


The words are flowing like a river.
Does it matter if they have no structure?
Does it matter if there is no form?
Aren’t the words themselves most important?
To express, relieve, escape, reveal,
Is that not the purpose of words?


The decisions I make, may be confusing from the outside,
But they are my decisions.
The battle between head and heart leads in strange directions,
Far outside the conformity of social norms.
Alienated by feelings and emotions so foreign and intense,
Creating a loneliness too painful to express.
No one to express it to anyway,
As no one understands, but instinctively pass judgement,
Rubbing salt into the wounds inflicted by the self-flagellation
Of trying to find self-acceptance as an outsider in the world.


“Patience,” whispers the voice in my head,
Just as it has for almost a year.
“It’s not time yet. Be calm and be patient.
Everything will be as it should.”
Listening to this voice has caused
My heart to shatter time after time.
Rivers of tears have flowed down my cheeks.
Anxiety has ebbed and flowed.
The Tsunami of Wonderful has left
Complete destruction in its wake,
Only to be swallowed again and again,
By ever larger waves.
Don’t react or respond,
Just go with the flow.
Ride the wave and observe the chaos,
But don’t get swallowed by it.
The lessons have been hard and painful.
The joy verging on ecstasy.
A voice taking the breath away,
A touch a slow-burning pleasure.
A smile too much for the heart to bear.
Silence and absence devastating.
So low on the priority list, and yet,
Evidence suggests constantly on the mind.
Could it be I’m not the only one confused
By the conflict of heart and head?
And what of the voice whispering sweet and low
To be patient and calm?
Does it come from an Angel or the Devil?
Where will it lead, and what does it mean
By everything is meant to be?