Every day the search is so real
In obvious, yet often vague fashion
The path is forever passing through
Mirage and tangible peaks and valleys

When molehills turn to mountains
When that oasis ahead offers nothing
Only barren and deserted ground
The insurmountable desire to fade becomes
An obstacle we struggle to overcome

Every day the struggle is sincere
How to permeate and see beyond
Our perceived vision of that molehill
The lying mirage we cling to in hope
Of quenching that continuous thirst on the journey

Strive to find the meanings lying in wait
Infinite is their patience the meanings exists
While often not simple the reward is priceless
Knowledge is power and awareness the weapon

Search and struggle brings truth
Even if only your own to hold
Because at the end of every path we choose
Is a new one only you can walk

Kosmic_Kachina2469

Invisible. A wish that with each passing day the desire to become tethered with it grows. It was always my answer when I was asked, “What superpower would I choose given the chance?”

It was always invisibility. It’s a period where you are free from the confinements of reality, and everything that comes with it. Free from judgement from other people, free from inconvenience but also securing a safe space to truly be yourself.

Lately the story behind that spark, my desire, it derives from
unwanted attention, unwanted burdens, piling up, and weighing me down like unyielding cargo.

It’s the attention through the eyes of a lustful man, stopping to stare at me while I work, making small talk when it’s clear I don’t want to be friends. His gaze, his voice were like spiders crawling into my skin, sending painless shockwaves of panic through my veins, like a mini earthquake racketing in my body.

It rippled my nerves with anxiety, taking my thoughts to a dark place, swearing to myself that I’ll never be caught in a dark alley with him, wishing I can disappear so his eyes and slimy smile can stop looking at mine.

There’s also life issues, and personal struggles, burdens like struggling to contain your emotions, because you feel too deeply, and now you’re putting yourself out there too much, or you take things the hard way, or you get told you’re too sensitive. You just feel TOO MUCH! It’s overwhelming, so much you start to feel drained in your heart, your soul, your spirit, and self worth.

The burden of it all, juggling life’s chaos, searching for balance, and all that jazz. I struggle everyday, trying to do enough so that I am a fully functional stable, healthy, human being.
A woman.

Yes, snap out of it, Paige.You are more than this and who you are is better than this. You’re better than this.

Listen, I’ll be honest while I’m still going, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t take a toll on me.

And then I remember, one night, I painted a seamless life, an escapable vision, and a fruitless chase for it. A mirage that I will never obtain but always yearn for.

To be alive but invisible would be a kaleidoscope of possibilities, shifting and unfolding, basking in a beautiful, colorful life, relishing in a chance to live in peace, free from mental torment, and wallowing in the quiet stillness of a misty sanctuary, where the soul roam unseen.

It is a dream that I would die for.

In the darkness, I’m alone, floating on a cloud of dreams,
where reality blurs and paints a picture of my mind dancing freely,
taking solace in the emptiness,
escaping the inevitable
to a void where struggles on all fronts
dissolve.

To a single adult like me,
name any struggle you’re facing
and I can likely tell you
that I was there before coming here.
Still gonna be waiting for me
for when I get back though.

God, it was serene, the feeling,
like being wrapped in a cozy blanket
on a cool night in your bed;
while your worries melted like butter
into a fleeting absence.

And when there’s night,
there’s day,
and like the sun in the world,
yours will rise again in your mind,
which reminds me of
the one thing I always loved about
the darkness,
because in it there’s nothing there,
no light to illuminate
any harsh reality
or truth
waiting to cause havoc in
your heart and mind.

And if it were up to me,
I’d manifest my thoughts into a person,
and kill it
so my mind can finally have peace.

I’d stay in the darkness forever,
if that meant being free.

(I was inspired to write this just now at 11:34pm 8/27/24)
In the past, society has deemed mental health as a crisis or a “stigma” and if women showed any form of mental health issues, we were sanctioned to an asylum to live out the rest of our days. Some men as well. But, in 2024, mental health is still frowned upon. “Oh, what, in your life is so bad?” “No one will believe you.” “Your depression is just you being lazy.” etc…I have had the immense pleasure of working in the mental health field off and on for a very long time and I fall in love more every time I go back. It is not wrong to ask for help with your mental health. Forget about what your friends and family will say. Forget about what social media and film and television say about it. Just do not think for one moment that you do not deserve to be here. And every time you think you will end it all, remember, I am here for you, as are hundreds of others and think to yourself: “just one more chapter.”

Loneliness slithers in
Like an unsuspecting snake
Coiled around my neck
Struggling to breathe
With nobody around
To save me
In a crowded room
I feel so alone
Everyone has someone
But no one has got me
Each night I come closer
To a planned death
Because loneliness kills
I don’t belong anywhere
I’m not needed nor wanted
So why even bother
I’ll drift away peacefully
Forgotten easily
And never remembered

Oh raven you foul omen
Singing your song again and again
Your wretched melody
Humming through the wind
Beating against my eardrum
Slowly shredding against the red thread of fate
Perched on my shoulder as you patiently wait
Watching as the thread is continually thinned
Sitting there, just singing your perish song
Wishing to drag us both to a place where I do not belong
Oh how long shall you beckon?
Oh how long shall your song peck away at the worms crawling under my flesh?
Your damnable whisper, so gentle and somber,
Yet with every verse I feel the air growing crisper
Every score eats away at my sanity
Unraveling the very fabric of who I am, as you continue singing note after note
Never satisfied until the day I drag a knife across my throat
But raven, do you not see?
Oh raven, surely you must know that I shall not allow your symphony to be the death of me?
For now I beseech you to harken unto the joyous song which I sing
Praise unto the Resurrected King
The Divine Dove, who flew down from heaven above
Simply to grace me with His merciful love
Now the hope of salvation is within my reach
So away with your song of deprivation, oh raven
For now is the time for you to suffer my hymn
As I relentlessly give all glory and honor unto Him
May this sound be a torment, may your face be made grim
By the chords of a man now restored by righteousness’ blood
Because He has taken me by hand and risen me from dust to make me a king,
He has placed His Spirit within me, like placing on my finger, a ring
I am the beloved of Christ
Therefore I refuse to let you deceive me into thinking I am anything less
Oh, let this song be my shield as I sing it again and again
Now away with you raven, for you are nothing more than a foul omen.

Behind the mask, no face to find,
A trick of mind, ‘neath sun that’s kind,
Yet rain pours down within the soul,
Where hidden truths take their toll.

“Get up, get on, you’ll be alright,”
The lies they tell ease the plight.
A crown once worn, now tipped and slanted.
Society’s stigma, harsh and untrue.

“Go out, be free,” they say, unaware,
That solitude’s chosen over despair.
In sorrow’s depth, alone you wallow,
While unseen, in code, for help you call.

Attention sought? Not even a hand to hold,
A listening ear, as your story’s told.
Over and over, being told “You’ll be okay,”
But will they listen, or just turn away?

Until the end, when all is read,
And in the paper, your name is led.
Will they see then, what they missed before,
Or just a picture, nothing more?

Sleeping awake, choking on a dream. Listening loudly to a silent scream. Her mind is a mess. Chaos at best. Everyone else is the ball and she is the wreck. Addicted but gifted, bad choices, good intentions. Her beauty is inspiring but her self-steem is trippin. Like quicksand I’m sinking, someone please pull me out. I’m drowning in my own dried up spout. What do you see when you look at me? Don’t cover my scars,let them bleed. Sick and Twisted yet beautiful as a willow tree.

I wonder what it must be like
to have a normal self-image.
To not be swallowed up by body dysmorphia,
Stealing away every opportunity that comes.

I wonder what it must be like
to show up just as you are,
Instead of avoiding and hiding away,
So not to be seen the way that you are.

What a relief it would be
To look in the mirror and not see an enemy.
To not want to throw up at the sight,
Of the body that serves me every day

To not want to shatter the mirror into pieces,
As if it makes me go away.
To glance at my reflection in a window,
And not startle at the monster staring back.

I wonder what it would be like
To not pick myself apart,
And chip away any self-esteem left,
Just to convince myself of how bad I am.

What a relief it would be,
To have it be the last thing I’m worried about.
To feel good enough to chase a dream,
Even just good enough to participate.

To allow myself to feel excited,
Without the side conversations in my head.
The intrusive thoughts that shatter me
And suffering caused by distortion.

What it must be like
To wake up in the morning and not worry
About what new perceived image
You will have in the reflection this time.

To not be obsessed and compulsive.
To not base my activities around
How I feel about myself
To not be restricted.

I wonder what life I’d have
If I didn’t restrain myself from it.
To break free from the prison of my mind
That holds me chained against my will.

The disorder has me in a chokehold,
And there is no release.
I am in an endless battle with my mind,
And I wish I could just be free.

How does it feel
To not be restricted by behavior
That stops you from leaving your house?
Repetitive, agonizing, panicky behavior

What a relief it would be, to just be.