Details |
Anna Wakeman Poem
In a sky not ours, your name still shines brighter than ever.
Through cosmic storms and trials we sever, yet love remains our endless endeavor.
Through endless stars and fate untold, our souls entwine, forever bold.
Through fate’s embrace, dreams retold. Our love glows brighter then molten gold.
The stars may scold, the winds will chide. But love remains, a fire inside.
Through starlit trails where fate resides, your love remains my constant guide.
Beyond all worlds, through time untried, love leads us forth, a light inside.
Copyright © Anna Wakeman | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Anna Wakeman Poem
I swore I wouldn’t.
Told the mirror a thousand times,
That this time would be different.
This time I’d hold in the sadness and anger without drowning.
But the past nights,
My hands remembered the language they forgot how to forget.
I sat in silence while the ache translated itself into line,
No one else would ever read.
They say it’s all just an act.
“Its just for attention “
“Your faking it”
“Your not actually gonna do it lol”
But it wasn’t for attention,
It never was meant to be for attention.
It was quite the opposite.
It was just me disappearing,
Carefully,
Quietly,
Slowly,
Like a secret scream.
I lit candles afterward,
Like grief could be disguised as atmosphere.
Just like if the room looked soft enough,
It might not notice,
What I’d done.
I just curled into myself,
The way a body does when it’s trying to disappear,
Without leaving.
I whisper,
“You said you wouldn’t.”
“You said this was the last time.”
“You promised so many people.”
I whispered these thoughts over and over,
As if repetition could rewind time,
As if shame had an undo button.
Nothing answered me though,
Expect the silence.
And the sting.
And the mirror that wouldn’t meet my glossy,
Red,
Numb,
Puffy,
Eyes.
I swear I didn’t wanna do it.
God, I didn’t want to.
I wanted to be stronger than the ache,
I wanted to be louder than the sadness,
But sadly the weight was louder.
I broke beneath it,
Like I always feared I would.
I wrapped myself in the quiet all the time,
Because sound was way to sharp,
Too clean for what I’d done.
The walls never judge,
But they watched every inch,
They watched as I made long lasting scars on my body.
Every crack in the ceiling suddenly sharper than the breaths I couldn’t catch.
I always wanna text someone.
But I can never bring myself to do it.
Why?
Because what would I say?
How would that make them feel?
I’ll be to annoying texting them about it.
“Hey, I broke again.”
“Hey, I failed you.”
What if they ask how to help me.
I don’t even know how to help myself.
How am I supposed to answer to that.
So instead of texting anybody,
I just lay there,
Broken,
Sad,
Drained,
Exhausted,
Tired of life.
I tuck the ache behind my ribs like a second heartbeat.
One that only beats when I’m alone.
I just stare.
Stare into the ceiling.
I tried to promise myself,
I’d never do it again.
But I’ve made that vow more times than anyone should have to.
Each time the world just keeps spinning,
Like it doesn’t care nor understand I’m barely holding on.
I want to live.
Some days I do.
Some days I really do wanna live.
But lately,
I just wanted to stop hurting,
I wanted the sadness to go away.
And I don’t know if that makes me weak or just tired.
I sat on my bed.
Rethinking life.
The evidence was already gone.
Bloody tissues thrown away.
The blade.
That stays.
You know what else stays.
The guilt.
The guilt stayed like smoke in my throat.
Thick,
Unshakable.
I kept touching my left thigh like I was trying to take back through skin alone.
I always imagined someone standing in the doorway.
Seeing what I did.
Seeing how much I’ve damage I’ve done to myself.
I hated myself for making them ever worry.
For being the reason someone might cry and say.
“I thought you were getting better.”
“You promised no more.”
“You said you were going to throw them out.”
I was.
I was,
Until I wasn’t.
Isn’t that worse somehow?
To have tried,
To have almost made it.
Only to fall again,
In a way that feels selfish,
And cowardly,
And unforgivable all at once.
I don’t want to meet my own reflection.
Not because of the pain,
Because of the disappointment.
I promised myself,
I’d never make someone else feel hopeless again.
But here I am,
Undoing every,
“Oh I’m okay.
“ yeah I’m fine.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
With this one mistake the now feels like a scar pressed into someone else’s hands to.
Copyright © Anna Wakeman | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Anna Wakeman Poem
Dear younger me,
You won’t understand this yet,
but the world doesn’t stay kind.
You don’t know it yet,
but your smile will crack in places, no one can see.
You’ll carry weight meant for two instead of one.
Still blaming yourself for breaking everyday.
One day you will look back,
Not with pride,
Not with peace,
But with a trembling softness for a child who held it all in.
Don’t blame yourself for breaking.
It wasn’t ever your fault,
And would never be your fault.
You did your best with what little you had.
I remember that day,
In your room,
Cuddling with your teddies,
Crying nonstop,
Overthinking,
Couldn’t breathe,
Wanted to cut yourself,
But didn’t.
But one day,
you will speak louder.
One day,
The shame won’t fit anymore.
You will start learning how to hold the pieces,
Even when your hands are bleeding.
You’ll smile in photos no one knew you cried after taking.
You’ll carry pain like it’s your to fully protect,
Apologise for things that were not your fault.
Somehow you’ll keep breathing through the weight of everything.
You are gonna beg quiet rooms to understand you,
But their silence with hurt you way more than any noise ever did.
You will smile so wide it cracks your skin,
Because that’s what everyone thinks.
They’ll call you strong not knowing strength was never a choice,
Only what you had to become when no one came to save you.
You’ll carry secrets like they’re sacred,
When really,
They’re just scars that learned to hide.
Whenever you try to speak them aloud,
Your throat will close around every word.
Every time your in a crowded room,
You will feel like a ghost.
Laughter will echo around you,
But never reach quite reach your eyes.
People are gonna ask how are you,
And if you’re okay.
But you’ll say “I’m fine” because explaining the emptiness takes more than you have left.
You’re gonna sit with people you love.
You’ll ache for someone to just see you.
Not your smile,
Not the shell,
But the breaking beneath.
When the night comes,
You’ll lie awake beside your own heartbeat,
Just wishing it belonged to someone who felt more like home.
But sometimes, some mornings.
The sky softens just enough,
Just enough to let the light in,
Not warmth,
Just the memory of it.
A flower will grow between the cracks,
Not strong,
Not bright,
But it grows.
And I stare at it.
Wondering how anything survives this.
Moments like this I almost forget the ache,
A breath that doesn’t shatter,
A laughter that doesn’t feel like betrayal.
And in those couple of seconds,
I think maybe,
Just maybe,
I’m still here for a reason.
Copyright © Anna Wakeman | Year Posted 2025
|