A collection of poems inspired by "the district sleeps alone tonight" by the postal service.
TW: CSA
I'm barely listening
I was reading over a journal entry and I realized just how far away I keep myself.
I wrote a bit on the day I had, I struggled to fill the document because the day I'd just come home from wasn't spent at the library or at school.
What filled the most space in my mind and on my page was not the day I had floated through but the days I didn't think I would.
I would love to be here with these lovely people, but I seem to be at a distance when the life I live comes to question.
The things I would do to be here, even for a minute, the list of things I wouldn't do is far shorter than it should be.
It's such a strange existence to feel so unexplainably trapped in the worst moments of your time so far.
Everything reminds me of him and what he did to me.
I felt scared as I once did while putting away books onto the shelf. I feel this way when I hear people act like he's a growing soul when I'd rather sleep on the floor than the bed it always happened in.
I will do everything I can to grow closer to the sun and away from the rotting trees around me, but I will not pretend like it is easy.
What's buried underneath
When he put his hands over my mouth it was to muffle the sound of me begging for him to stop.
I wasn't born to play dead, I learned that when there are no options of escape you will find it yourself.
I remember how quickly I was brought back to those nights when someone else covered my mouth to stop the sounds.
In that moment I was not at the dinner table, I don't know where I ended up but in my heart I was about to
Be hurt again.
I remember I kept telling myself I couldn't take it again, that I would not survive if he came back.
I wasn't sure of my surroundings so I locked myself in the bathroom.
I sat on the cold tile trying to make sense of this.
I can't do this again.
When I left the blue walls my hands trembled.
I wondered if the way I placed my legs wouldn't feel like asking for it.
How quickly the ground beneath my feet began shaking.
YOU ARE READING
Letters from sixteen
PoetryA poetry book I wrote during periods of my life with many different facets. I wrote about happy moments, addiction, and trauma, the book becomes more depressing as it goes on. I choose the title "letters from sixteen" to capture how I wanted to capt...
