self – A Poet's Pen

Misscommunication

Maybe it’s because of the thoughts I have

That drown out what is real,

And what is not–

Maybe it’s my mouth replacing the air with water,

Heavy in my lungs,

Afraid of what will come up

Once I try to connect the words in my mind

To the sounds in my throat–closed.

I want to protect my heart from the heavy weight I hold

When I see you,

But I’ve realized I can’t see you.

How can I see you when I can’t see myself,

Or when I look around and find no familiarity in my surroundings?

Grey is now permeating everything I see—

So first, it starts with me.

I choose to remove the weight

And look forward to my day.

I focus on being present

When the past is pressing in on all sides,

Forcing me to hide.

I focus on having patience

When I feel wasted by

The people surrounding me on a daily basis.

I focus on communication,

And protecting my mind and my heart

from the forces around me asking me to change who I am

For them,

Because I am worth it.

I will say it over and over again,

That I am who I am,

Fallen and imperfect.

I love the cracks in my hands and freckles on my skin,

And the excitement I get from a small moment.

I ask nothing to forgive,

I only ask for a conversation,

Not a misinterpretation.

I ask for someone to see me past expectation.

See me as a living and breathing human who is prone to making mistakes.

See me as you would see yourself at the end of the day—

As a person.

Dead Space

There is a room in my mind that has no windows or doors.

It has no color–walls stripped bare and blank and empty–

like a force of nature decided to strip a home of its humanity.

Life has left the hallways and spaces of this place.

There is no frame or shape that can explain the barren structure left behind.

It has no name.

It is the definition of “nothing.”

Noise bounces off the foundation like a soundproof room, and leaves no trace of voice.

It is the little hell that keeps people from seeing God or faith in living things.

It is a piece of rotting wood, not good for anything.

This place in my mind–this deadened wood that has no purpose–

permeates my definition of life.

It reminds me of the pressing feeling that nothing lasts and everything fades to the past and pushes people back

until they can’t see color anymore.

It’s a black and white world.

10 Things I’d Tell My Freshman-self

Do not prop books on tree branches–they will fall and scare the heck out of the blonde girl in your American Lit class.
Take two flashlights when you go caving, unless you feel like wandering through a cave in the dark for a few hours.
The Christian Studies guy is a total prick.
I’m sure the blonde jock seems charming and sweet, but don’t fall for it. Trust me.
Measure your trust in teaspoons.
Join a sport just to see if you make it. You can find some of your best friends on a team (like cross-country!).
Move off campus for a year, but do NOT sign any year-long contracts. Sometimes your friends (roommates) try to screw you over.
Your roommates are all lesbians. They aren’t just having sleepovers in there.
Don’t throw away Jenga. You will miss it, and it was supposed to be your best friend’s birthday present!
Last of all, PLEASE have fun. And not the kind of fun that people tell you is fun–I’m sure most of the parties in town are just full of testosterone and they smell like feet.