Lonely Owl

Late at night, darkened room,

windows down, a single owl outside.

It has no nest, perches on a branch beside my window.

I don’t sleep when he’s out there,

but I never bring myself to shut the window.

Because who will listen if not me?

He’s got a lot to say, this homeless bird,

and he’s always alone,

Maybe I feel connected to it-

projecting my own loneliness

onto this brown nocturnal owl,

hoping maybe if I let this bird speak

someone will let me, too.

On depression and motivation

I travelled across the states

searching for a feeling.

A feeling I knew I could feel

because I’d felt it once before

years before it all went downhill.

I knew the feeling in dreams,

in books, in shows, in movies,

but I’d be lying if I said I felt it anymore.

I know I’m not miserable,

I’m not hopeless or destined for failure,

but when the sun sets, what’s left?

I remember motivation like a childhood memory,

it’s a foggy feeling I can vaguely comprehend,

so I go on walks, I go on road trips,

I try new things in an effort to bring the feeling back.

Sometimes I wonder if the world wants me.

where did the sun go

Sitting in a dimly lit room,

the light went out a week ago

and it’s rainy and foggy today.

The rain carries from outside

to deep within my soul,

creating puddles in my chest,

a type of flooding only possible

when it’s rained relentlessly for weeks.

Doctors and meteorologists 

don’t know when the rain will stop,

but they assure us it will.

It’s a strange comfort when

you know the rain will end,

but you have no idea when.

It’ll come unexpected,

you won’t be sure at first.

“Is that the sun

peering through the clouds?”

And it is. 

And it is beautiful.

When it’s warm outside and life is good again (besides the bugs, the bees, and the humidity)

It’s warm now for the first time

in a long time.

I wasn’t sure winter would ever end,

but it did now.

Now it’s warm nights and sunny mornings,

sipping coffee

as the trees bloom all around me.

I’ve never known joy,

at least not like I know it now,

but I know it now.

Down again

It’s not that I have no one who cares,

it’s not that no one would comfort me in a moment of despair,

it’s the overwhelming feeling of not being able to reach out

in fear of being too much or an inconvenience.

I don’t want to burden anyone with my depressive episode;

when I’m sad, no one should have to deal with me than me.

They tell me I’m not a burden, that they really do love me,

but when I’m so deep in a pit of self-loathing depression,

it’s hard to believe anyone could ever care enough.

These fits of depression come out of the blue full force sometimes,

it’s not always easy to catch before I’m lying on the floor at 2 am,

headphones in, lights off, self-deprecating thoughts accumulating rapidly.

I want to believe I’ve gotten better at catching myself before it’s too late.

Some days are harder than others,

but I know I’ll pick myself up again.

I’ll survive this no matter how hard it gets,

I won’t let this sadness swallow me whole.

When the sun shines, I’ll let it

and when the rain comes, I’ll bring an umbrella.

Relief

The warm evening summer sun

interrupted by gentle breezes,

flowing through the trees

and through your hair.

The breeze is a relief,

the sun, though setting, burns bright.

When the wind blows,

it takes with it any sense of doubt

and any negative feelings we once had.

 

We stand in the forest,

surrounded by trees and bushes,

a plethora of greens and browns and yellows.

We’re barefoot, but only for a moment,

just to sink our feet deep into the soil,

root ourselves in the same dirt these trees use,

and maybe understand how they can stand so tall

in a world that doesn’t seem to want them.

 

I feel connected to the forest,

in the summer at dusk.

I feel as though I, too, will soon become cold and restless,

mischievous creatures will stir within me.

But there’s a beauty in the silent forest nights,

though most fear to approach the darkened woods,

those who do will find it’s calm and eternal;

it’s not out to get you, it just wants to survive.

It just wants to grow, to thrive

and as far as I’m concerned,

that’s all anyone else wants.

Simpler Times

There’s something about nostalgia

I obsess over it.

Most of my tattoos are tied to it,

half of my wardrobe is related to it.

I attach myself to the past,

it’s difficult to let it go,

it’s too easy to reflect on,

to reminisce about the Simpler Times.

I find myself playing old games from my childhood,

going for walks where I spent so much time as a child,

but why?

I’m often let down,

the games aren’t what they used to be,

the walks cluttered with litter and nosy people,

but I find myself drawn to it all.

Maybe it’s something to do with the simplicity of it

and how nothing ever seems as simple as back then.

It’s beautiful in the saddest fashion,

how I will never again relive those memories,

and every day they’ll fade more

until I hardly remember them at all.

(not) rock bottom

I exhaled and found myself

twelve feet deep,

surrounded by seaweed and crabs.

They say not to sink too low,

but if means I can breathe again,

I’d find Atlantis in the abyss.

I’m sitting on the ocean floor,

not too deep that I’ll drown

just enough to feel the waves pull me around.

I’d kill to feel anything these days,

a little clarity is all I ask.

They told me I need to cleanse my soul

so, I sank to the sandy floor.

Now I can’t breathe or think,

and time is running out.

This isn’t where I wanted to be at 21,

drowning in stress and loneliness.

I feel the seaweed wrap around my legs,

tighter every second

until I accept defeat.

This isn’t rock bottom,

but I can’t sink any lower.

Things I Love

Warm summer nights,

the heat of the blazing sun has subsided,

but the warmth still radiates.

Sitting around a campfire,

conversing with friends.

 

Going to sleep after a productive day,

knowing I’m loved and cared for

even though I have my flaws,

knowing my friends don’t mind

they have their own flaws too

and that’s what makes us unique.

 

Being able to reflect on the past,

without being burdened by it’s misfortunes

Knowing I’m in a better place now than I was years past

and being thankful for the bad times as well as the good

because now I know how bad it can get,

so these little problems I encounter

they don’t seem so bad anymore.

Sure, sometimes life still gets me down,

but now I’ve a whole array of skills to deal with it.

 

Having a cookout on a mild day,

the shining sun and friends’ laughter filling the air.

Sunsets that turn the sky shades of pink and purple.

Looking up at the sky on a cloudless night,

stars twinkling as we relish in their beauty,

the moon full and illuminating the surroundings.

Knowing this isn’t time wasted,

I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Let the flowers grow

Let flowers grow inside you

in places you once thought 

could never see life again.

Let the emptiness inside your chest

be the soil that nourishes new life.

Let the earth take over 

fill sadness with hopefulness.

Bury your feet in the dirt

and know you’ll be fine.

Just because you feel alone

doesn’t mean you are.

They left you hollow and lost

but just because you’re empty now

doesn’t mean new life can’t grow.