Long Mental health Poems
Long Mental health Poems. Below are the most popular long Mental health by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mental health poems by poem length and keyword.
I look into my mirror and I see
I girl who is standing, staring at me
Our eyes lock and it can’t be
This girl is stressed, eyes filled with despair
Falling into a pool of darkness without a care
Drowning but not ready to gasp for air,
I stare
This girl is tired and broken and sad
Choking on her own fears, not ready to ask for a hand
Still unaware and afraid ‘this is normal it can’t be that bad,’
I stare
This girl has a smile that is shaking, doesn’t belong on her face
Uses it to hide all her pain, move it all to one space
That smile is the only key to her happy place,
I stare
This girl is taking deep breaths in and out
Using them as a way to cope and not shout
How much she is hurting, hiding behind those breaths, what’s that about?
I stare into my mirror and what do I see?
A girl who is standing, staring at me
Where did the other one go? Who was so carefree.
Did she disappear with age, why because she
Was so perfect, so pleasant oh where could she be
Because she is not the same girl staring back at me.
Some are born to carry shadows in their bones—
to know the weight of stones
uninvited visitors throw.
We are soldiers in a war with no front lines,
an army of one
navigating minefields,
exploding bombs inside our minds.
We live in nightmares dressed as ordinary days,
chasing peace through smoke and haze
while hope erodes like shoreline
beneath relentless waves.
The armor we bear is heavier than lead—
each plate hammered from a scar,
each rivet driven through the tender parts
we've learned to guard.
Tears descend in silent streams:
salt trails mapping territories of pain.
Trauma swallows us in waves—
pulling us under, again,
again—
until we learn to breathe
in the spaces between drowning.
Memories cling like winter frost
to window glass,
distorting everything we see.
They haunt the corners where light fails,
cruel melodies on endless repeat:
the songs life demands
we learn by heart.
Do you see me?
I see you—
the same fractured mirror,
the same shattered view.
But still—
In the caverns of my darkest days,
in the marrow-deep ache of surviving,
I find a strange and tender grace:
a gift the light-touched never claim.
This appreciation blooms
in soil where others see only decay—
I notice what they hurry past:
the way dawn breaks on broken things,
how shadows teach the light to dance,
the fierce beauty of a body
that refuses to surrender,
the sacred weight of second chances.
Even as I grow bone-weary,
even as I break and bleed,
I see extraordinary beauty
hidden from those who've never grieved—
The silver veining through the cracks.
The strength in things that bend, not break.
The way the wounded recognize each other
across crowded rooms:
a glance, a nod—
the silent language of survival.
The poetry in what we had to forsake.
This beauty rolls in with the seasons,
then away with winter's breath—
fleeting, precious, sharp as sorrow,
intimate as life and death.
We who carry melancholy
see what joy alone cannot:
the full spectrum of existence,
the terrible beauty we've been taught
by suffering,
by surviving,
by singing through the pain.
We are the ones who know
that breaking open
is how the light gets in—
That the cracks are not the ending
but the place
where we begin.
IFORNIA- HEALTH
HUMAN SERVICE AGENCY
DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH
CARE SERVICES
Ways to manage stress
• Take a break reading, watching the news
News about virus can be overwhelming
• Keep in touch with family
Friends
Others by phone
Text
The internet
• Treat body kindly
Eat healthy foods
Exercise if you can
Avoid too much alcohol
• Call health care provider
If anxiety keeps us from daily activities
• Ask health plan
Care providers if mental health
Medical Substance use services
• Remember that can get many mental health
Substance use services by
Phone
Video telehealth
So don’t have to go to an office
I'm an Optimist and believe that Anything is Possible. But... I am not one to ignore the energies and emotions in society, no matter how heavy they are.
There's a Loneliness Epidemic happening globally that's fueling the Mental Health Epidemic. And despite the myriad reasons for it, we need to focus on the solutions.
Please be kind and compassionate to everyone you meet. And if you can, please try to spend time engaging with people in your community; even strangers on the street.
Everyone needs Love and Light.
Feel the Connection between Us
(Everyone needs Love and Light)
By Michelle Morris
21/11/2024
There's a heaviness in the Energy
This World has burdens from us All
People are experiencing Loneliness
They're afraid to Trust and Fall
Into Connections and Relationships
Into Friendship and Love
To ignite the Spark of Recognition
From one Soul to another from Above
Where we first met in the Universe
In the Cradle of Soul Births
Feel the Connection between Us
It's remembered like a little Verse
Because we matter and we fit
Our Rhythms and our Rhymes
Everyone needs Love and Light
It stands the Test of Time
If only we would embrace it
Our Collective Energy would be Light
The Darkness would be conquered forever
And our Days would forever be Brighter
© Michelle Morris, 2024
To the ones who didn’t make it past yesterday,
we remember you.
Not for the way your story ended,
but for every quiet moment
you tried to stay.
You carried storms
no one else could see.
You fought battles
that never made a sound.
And even on the days
you felt invisible,
your life touched more than you knew.
We speak your name
with softness,
with honour,
with the kind of love
that doesn’t fade just because you’re gone.
And to the ones still here,
reading this,
breathing through another hard morning,
your story isn’t finished.
Your light is still needed.
Your voice still matters.
Your tomorrow is worth reaching for.
May we live in a way
that remembers them,
and protects you.
May we choose compassion
before judgement,
connection before silence,
hope before the dark.
For the ones who didn’t make it past yesterday,
we carry you.
For the ones who did,
we’re glad you’re here.
Home, home is a place where you're supposed to feel loved and safe.
A place where you can go to get away.
When you struggle throughout your day you know you can go and not feel like a castaway.
Home, not everyone has one of those.I didn't growing up.
I had drug addicts and people who didn’t care about if we were okay or if we were stuck
The lying and the pain that was placed on us for a long while.
Home, I realized this isn’t a place I should go to for help when no help was there.
When they knew about the pedophiles and the hurt us kids had to go through not caring if our hearts had a tare.
Home, was this really a place I could go to when I was in need?
“just kiss me for a minute”, “don’t move”, “it won’t hurt”, “come sit next to me” he would plead.
Late movie nights that would turn into fights
or that room that would turn into her getting abused
not having a care in the world for her own children but she thought that was fine.
When having a thought that her child got seduced.
Oh but Home, “please come home”, she would beg
after we fled that house and moved on into a new home that was better, safer, and more caring.
Home, I can now call where I'm at a home.
Because they care about us and what’s on our minds
and won’t just say nevermind if we don’t understand.
Home, go find your place that makes you feel safe, cherish every moment you can and don’t let it go to waste.
I was born into a war
I was born into a war
I Was born into this war
And I couldn’t even talk
I didn’t know how to walk
I hit the ground surviving
Heavy fire, Heavy losses
Broken will broken compass
On death ground
Death behind me
Death ahead of me
Surrounded No space to retreat
No way home
This is no way to live
Its no way to go
The enemy was within
No secrets no strategy
No manoeuvres No being clever
This is not go This is not chess
I am no Hannibal I am no Scipio
I am no Ceaser I no Napoleon
I am no general I am no emperor
I am no conqueror
I don’t make the decisions
Just obedience to violence
Mano a mano
Running low on ammo
Not a moment to breathe
Blood all over the camo
Screams and limbs flying
Bodies piling, blood is flowing
The flies are multiplying
The maggots are feasting
And its only just starting
what is certain
I will die here
I will die at the end
I don’t get to make it out ahead
I will be dead
I have not given up but I know the reaper
He’s a friend
I have seen him hugging my brothers
I have seen him show spite
I have seen him show mercy
he is the angel of destiny
Ordaining us to be saints
Or giving swords to be martyr’s
The pain is mounting
And I am out of cocaine
The medics are out of morphine
And its already too late for me
I am bleeding , badly wounded
Intestines are hanging
One arm is missing
I am being brave
But heart can only take me so far
Fighting to the end feeling woozy
I can’t hear a thing I think I am dying
I can’t just lay down and die
I can’t just lay down to die
I-can’t let them just win
I can’t just stop.
Things One Can't Change, Just Breathe
A range of things don't move, no question
The plea,
Life launches weight you can't always be a
Perk
Pressure hits hard, sits sunken in the stitching-
Things one can't change...Just Breathe
Turmoil doesn't query if you're ready to
Percolate.
Truth doesn't solicit just cause you believe.
When the world domiciles cold and won't
Compromise Things one can't change...
Just Breathe.
Some fights ain't your own, let the weight
Exemption, Not every storm justifies your
Peace.
Life hits brutal; don't let it snatch things one
Change...Just Breathe
When the world pitches noise, you don't
Get accredited.
And truth gets entwined in what they interwind,
Hold your Center, keep your things one can't
Change..Just Breathe
The pressure seems to build inside,
With the endless tasks and duties,
The heavy weights I must stride,
The perfect grades and tidy room,
All the chores and practices galore,
The heavy yoke of "shoulds" and "musts",
Weigh heavily on this core.
The darkness creeps within me,
The tiredness that seems to never end,
All the hopelessness and sadness,
The thoughts that logic transends.
But I will fight this battle,
I will not give in to fear,
I will find the strength within me,
And know my worth is clear.
I am more than the grades and tasks,
More than what I do and make,
I am loved for who I am,
Not for the paths I take.
So I will lift my weary head,
And stand tall against this tide,
For I have worth that nothing,
Can diminish or deride.
I will fight and I will win,
This long battle within my mind,
For I am more than expectations,
I am love, hope, and kind.
A Look Back at Eighteen Months Here-The Show is Over
When your poems reside in a shoe,
like mine,
pounding the pavement to nowhere.
The onset of blisters isn't imagined.
Those blisters take roots,
hindering your motivation
to move-
and to continue to write.
It hurts.
Seeing those poems take residence
in pity.
Sans the
comfort of
leather and lace,
shine and sole,
all of which would have been nice.
But all my eyes see are my poems,
tucked away in worn loafers,
unpolished,
unnoticed.
Not exactly eye candy.
But eyesores ...judging by the lack of views, here.
And undoubtedly my shoes made of synthetics
and sneakers
to the purveyors of good poetry
and good shoeshine.
I look down for good reason,
defacto
and stigmatized,
no contest wins,
no poems ever in the top 100 (new) list,
no scent of roses (or views),
nothing.
Nothing.
An abyss of sublimity,
save for the white bird
that chirps
to nobodies ears.
To wit.
For he who signs up for this site
got a handful of mixed emotions,
confetti less tomorrows,
a begotten rah, rah,
a ladle of spiel,
poems published ...
and in my case alone footnote
that I was a member
sans the shoe shine.
I really have to admit,
writing here,
eighteen months now,
has taken its toe.
I have no one to blame but myself.
Kind Regards,
connie pachecho
4/26/2018
The proprietor of the show has decided to call it quits, citing mental health issues here. The posse of black bears got to me. The guises, pretense, and hate towards me eroded my spirit. Tell her she can play with my insanity but not my spirit. To my readers, I really appreciate your patronage during this journey here even though the crops are bare and the barn fronts a blank stare.
The cows fight with the pigs, and bacon went to waste. One thing I take is the seed in me to aspire elsewhere, which I've already planted at HP under the name Logan Robertson. Thanks again. Wish everybody the best.