We started like a story,
You read me cover to cover,
Pretending you cared—
Just long enough to smother.
You said all the right words,
But your hands told the truth.
You weren’t in it for love,
Just the body of my youth.
I was a game.
A joke.
A cure for your boredom.
While you hid someone else—
Your loyalty was a phantom.
I was never your partner,
Just a place to pass time.
You wanted what was mine,
But never to make me mine.
When I spoke of my battles,
The darkness I faced alone,
You smirked—
Like pain was punchline,
Like I was weak to the bone.
You laughed when I cried,
Mocked what I felt.
As if my mind was broken,
And your jokes were how it dealt.
But I see it now.
The gaslighting.
The games.
How I was only a conquest,
Not a name.
You broke me—
But through the cracks came light.
And I finally saw the truth
I was too in love to fight.
You were a walking red flag,
Dressed in fake affection.
All charm, no depth,
Just lies and deflection.
But I’m free now.
Not yours, not fooled, not small.
You wanted in my pants—
But you’ll never have my soul at all.
I died for a while
Withdrawing myself from the routines of life
Getting into a silent shell and observing
The world around me
The people around me
The people who are the world around me
All happy and content with my absence
The vacuum that I perceived would be created
In my absence
Was created within me
The hollowness was evident
The invisible strings detached
As if they never were
The mundane society grind continued
Will continue
Like the space occupied by a finger in water
Taken out and nothing was ever there
I enjoyed being dead
For there are no expectations from the deceased
Only the living dead
Bear the burden of as if running the whole world
I have now sprung back to life
Enlightened, that there are many illusions that we carry
That we belong…
@’dusk’…
My days are void of color
It seems I cannot speak your name
My consciousness lives within my memories
Holding only myself to blame.
The bleakness of reality
My soul, it perseveres
It lives far outside these bricks
I'm left alone with just my fears:
I am one broken half
To a whole I long to be
I am the shards of shattered glass
Of the crystal rose you once made me.
I am sharp cruel edges
Broken thorns, scuffed out shine
I am every tear shed in secrecy
Every single dishonest "I'm fine."
I am drops of paint beneath tables
Hidden corners, lacking grout
I am every hope and wish and promise
That everyone forgot about.
A definite air permeates
When in the walls of my room
Projected productivity is it?
Or rather the reflection of what those expect of me
Identity found... lost, through my grasp
Hard to dicier or fully know
Craving change, something swift
Yet nothing short of raw, with nature as my muse
Possibilities seem infinite, away from these parts
Just the sheer art of crossing unforeseen paths
Evoking my soul and lust for life, I sit and wait
As if the trust I should place in myself lies agape
Too close to home, I feel exposed
To judgements, expectations, and morale I hope I lack
By that I mean from their skewed sightings of things
And so the awe of discovery calls me
Replacing shame, resistance, anger, yet-
Through times of stagnancy I surely say...
Have I truly surpassed these past felt ways?
Assured, I realize triggers do arise, often times
Standing in the kitchen, pacing the halls, walking
Phone calls, a pause, anticipated familial talks...it all
Tales to be told to the generation to be
A family I will hold dear, never inflict previous cycles upon
Shared highlight reel of what once was, and everything in between
Final exams start Thursday,
and it’s giving us all the feels.
Finals have a gravity of their own.
Are the papers worse than exams? Maybe.
The tension can be relentless and heavy.
“It’s finals week, see you on the other side.”
As for me, I’m almost packed up.
Time is an odd and unpredictable beast.
It’s hard to believe that in two weeks, I'll be a junior.
It’s an unimaginable prospect.
To work, for a long time at something that seemed impossible
- head down in concentration - then suddenly, like a passing,
cotton cloud somehow became a bunny - everything came into focus.
I’m halfway done. I’m going to make it. I got a chill.
I wanted to throw my lattice windows wide open and scream for joy
- but it might’ve been taken wrong. I’ve no time to give mental health advisors.
Next week might be a more plausible time for wooting.
.
.
It has to be said. I’m in love with these songs:
‘Arizona‘ by ‘Ms. White’
‘Blood in the Cut’ by ‘K.Flay’
‘Time Machine’ by ‘Willow’
‘Relax’ by ‘Vacations’
‘Do the motion’ by ‘BoA’
“Tender as a bomb’ by ‘tennis’
Sticky notes, adhesive and bright,
Myriad colors in my sight,
In my room, they cover the walls,
Reminders of tasks, big and small.
They seem so simple, but to me,
They represent my antithesis,
A symbol of all I can't be,
Of goals unmet and missed chances.
My weary eyes scan each square,
A daily reminder of my affairs,
The notes mock me with their stare,
As if saying, "why aren't you there?"
I try to ignore them, to push away,
But they cling to me like the day,
My mind races, thoughts astray,
Caught up in the web they lay.
I wish I could toss them out,
Let go of this nagging doubt,
But they remain, without a doubt,
A constant reminder, a persistent shout.
Sticky notes, they seem so small,
But they hold me in their thrall,
A reminder of my every flaw,
A constant burden, a heavy maul.
I long for freedom, to break free,
From these notes and their decree,
To find a way to simply be,
Without the weight of my history.
But until then, I'll continue to write,
To add to my collection, day and night,
Sticky notes, adhesive and bright,
A constant reminder of my plight.
Why do I worry?
Why do the things I don’t know scare me?
Why have my dreams gone from colorful utopias,
to darker wastelands I don’t remember?
Why am I so afraid to face tomorrow
when not knowing brings me sorrow?
Every day goes the same
I always feel like I’m to blame
Months ago, the world almost tore itself apart
Almost seemed like everyone lost their heart
The unknown consumed us all
When we thought things would be normal in the fall
The unknown is no terrible thing
The world became clearer in my eyes
I saw things I have never seen before
Felt things I never felt before
And thought things I never would have before
Who knew isolation would be the greatest gift of all
The gift came in many forms
An example would be being away from the dorms
Another would be realizing I want an image I can call my own
Instead of the image my parents have set in stone
I have finally found my peace of mind
Who knew all my life I’ve been so blind
So, I thank the unknown
Because now I sit on a golden throne
All I’ve ever wanted is to be me
But, often that is not enough
Or, maybe too much for others
I’ve also wanted fairness, balance,
And ended up on one way streets
I’ve wanted to help, then got burnt
I’ve danced in the fun, and fallen
I’ve spoken and been discounted
With things so close to my heart
I’ve stood up for myself as well
Then, been disliked more by some
All I’ve ever wanted is to be me
Where I can be afraid, but still safe
Where I can be weak, not taken advantage of
I can be strong, then respected for my actions
To be able to laugh at silly, grumpy times
Or the little things that may set me off
Laugh together, share together, both giving,
Because also, all I want is for you to be you
I am not a fantasy that anyone has created to control
I am real, I am me, I am what you hear and see
Heidi Sands
1/1/19
Here in this my darkest hour
Chilled down to the marrow bone
Once a vibrant now fading flower
Where soon only weeds will grow
I had thought myself invincible
Here now holding auditions with death
As he freely asks morbid questions of me
Standing naked with no dignity left
Too late now I'm looking inward
At the empty boxes lining my soul
Knowing full well that I was forewarned
That one day this bell would toll
Looking back on the years I have wasted
At mine and others expense
A bitterness so strong you can taste it
The flavor, my own detriment
I clearly see what could be too late for me
Breathing out my final battle cry
When in the end neither fame nor fortune
Could replace my need for Jesus Christ
There was a boy, Who played all day.
His name was Jam, He laughed all the way.
Sometimes sad, But others glad.
Sometimes he had, But was very mad.
Until he viewed, A young man stealing a toy.
Jam spoke aloud,
Yelling come play with me, Young man!
The young man stopped on a dime,
Could he believe his ears this time?
Someone to play with at last,
Jam inquired his name,
Peanut Butter he exclaimed, They got together; Their differences caused a great change!
Which was great, this showed their intelligence.
Jam had found a friend,
From desiring a toy, But realized a greater joy!
Thus Peanut Butter & Jam got along just fine,
They learned that others joys can be others toys!!
he lay next to her in peace
keeping him warm
a blanket made of fleece
she was all he ever wanted
all he'd need
till the day she said the words
that made his heart bleed
he begged and pleaded
please don't leave
she said he was the part of her
that she did not need
he thought these wounds
would heal in time
they say it was his fault
for love made him blind
he began to realize
that he ignored all the signs
a rush emotion fills him
he couldn't help but cry
abandoned by love
he was living a lie
he had seen the truth
after months had past
even after devastation
his heart would last
he wasn't worried in the least
because now he sees
she was an angel craving chaos
and he was a demon seeking peace
little girl, naive and sweet
playing with the pretty doll
still believing you can compete
in beauty's brutal brawl
but your hair isn't blonde
sadly, your eyes are brown
how could society be fond
of a girl without a beauty crown?
look at the other girls
their big bright eyes
and bouncing curls
too soon you'll realize
they have more value
still dreaming of true love?
silly little you
you're not what boys dream of
now you're grown and married
reality has taken hold
childhood fantasies all buried
lady, now you're just old
your husband loves the whore
up there on the screen
you can't pretend anymore
you'll never be a beauty queen
Somewhere between here,
blase and tomorrow's
derangement, lost the plot in
a moment of coherent clarity,
'twas quite a peculiar notion
unsettling predicament of
knowing one's own psyche,
silently questioned the
absolute mindfulness,
hardly sure whether to
heed or trust abstruse
insomuch as the validity
mid concise advice of
internal voiced concepts
shanghaiing neurons,
haranguing harbingers
hung on haphazardly
'til giving up on
any possibility of
sensibilities' solution,
acquired a migraine trying
to comprehend saneness,
there's a mental jolting,
dash of disappointment
mid virtual realizations
and literal translations
of who and what we are
[realistically] as opposed
to 'who we think we are'
fallen into rabbit hole madness,
"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore"...
the world is not black and white
the world is many shades of gray
truth and lies can be the same color
everyone says that growing is hard
no one says that not growing is harder
life is a fusion of emotions and seeing
a mishmash of beauty and ugly
one must face the ugly
in order to see the beauty
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