Details |
Stephanie Oakland Poem
I.
Everything is fine. Everything is. Everything. Fine.
Then her heart stops beating.
The world looks the same, right?
How long has it been since she's eaten?
Is she still alive?
I think so?
Everything.
Fine.
She'll come back, she always does.
Everything.
Every.
Ev.
.
She'll bounce back, it's what she does.
.
.
Goodbye.
Then you're gone, at least your soul is.
Everything inside you is dead.
You feel nothing.
You inhabit a body floating throughout life.
No direction or purpose.
That's one emotion.
Everything.
Fine.
Numb.
II.
Everything is fine.
Everything... Water? Fire? Lungs?
Not now!
She can't breathe.
Her body is on fire.
Water fills her lungs.
She gasps for air.
No one notices
It's just asthma.
She's falling into a black hole.
Everything is black.
Every limb on her body gives way.
No one saw her trip.
She's just clumsy.
Tears stream down her face.
She has something in her eye.
She gasps for breath.
Is there a smoker around?
She can't feel her limbs.
She has bad circulation.
She goes silent.
She's just shy.
She's on fire. She's on ice. She can't breathe. She can't speak. She can't think. She can't see. She can't hear.
She just zoned out.
She'll be fine, she always is.
Everything Fine.
Everything.
Not.
Fine.
Not.
Fi.
Nnn.
.
.
.
Copyright © Stephanie Oakland | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Stephanie Oakland Poem
To be one with the sea,
No one would know,
No one would care.
The pain of nothing would cease to exist,
Feeling the water fill your lungs,
If only.
Funny how you'll only feel alive
On the brink of death
Finally one with nature.
The water filling your lungs,
The burning wrath of pain,
If only.
Yearning to feel your existence,
Yearning to feel the pain.
You envy those who feel it,
They're alive while you're dead.
You died years ago,
Your soul is gone,
Your body is empty, wandering the Earth.
Not broken, but untouched.
Yearning to feel your existence,
To be alive.
If only.
The effort to keep your heart beating,
When you're already dead.
Bring your soul back to this earth among the living,
Stay alive,
If only.
Copyright © Stephanie Oakland | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Stephanie Oakland Poem
It consumes her. The darkness. She wants to leave it behind, but she doesn't. It defines her. Without it, who is she? What is she? It brings her soul to life. Without it, would she ever feel again? Isn't it much better to live in a sea of misery than an atom-less world of nothingness? How can she live a life of bliss if she's too afraid to leave it behind? She is the only thing standing between her and happiness. Not depression, nor anxiety, nor any external voices or forces. Her. But how can she leave so much of her identity, of who she is, behind? She finally feels alive again. Is "happiness" worth the risk of losing that? She feels that either way leads to her demise. If she stays in the darkness, she can't survive much longer. She's weakened day after day, losing more and more of her will to fight it. If she leaves the darkness in pursuit of bliss, her heart may be beating, but will her soul survive? Or will she go right back to a nonexistent existence? A body wandering aimlessly without a soul? All because she stopped clinging to the one thing that gave her life? As for the third option, if she succeeds in the pursuit of happiness, will she still be the person she wants to be? Will she still feel the pain of others and seek to give them light and support? Will she still think as deeply about the world around her? Or would she become blissfully ignorant? You need both pain and joy in life to feel alive, but she's never been one to trek the middle ground, it's all or nothing. The question is, which path does she wish to take... her life is in no-one's hands but her own. She may have been shaped by the people in her life, but she is not, and will not, be a victim of circumstance. She will not blame the present on the past, nor let herself be defined by the world around her. The question is how she chooses to define herself. Is a life full of depression and anxiety worth it to feel alive? It seems as if she dies regardless of the path she chooses.
Copyright © Stephanie Oakland | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Stephanie Oakland Poem
The darkness of night,
The silence of thieves.
Locking your soul away,
Denying you the key.
The envelope of nothingness,
Effects not the living.
The pain of numbness,
Effects not the dead.
The bodies drifting,
No soul nor feeling,
Not dead nor living,
Not dark nor light.
They cry their silent cries,
Not of sadness, not of joy,
Not of hatred, not of love,
Not of anger, frustration, or bliss.
They cry their silent cries
Out of longing for the world.
Yearning to live, yearning to die,
Yearning to feel alive.
Copyright © Stephanie Oakland | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Stephanie Oakland Poem
The burning sensation of lust,
Red seeping from her core.
Her shattered heart,
Followed by shattered tears.
The anger gliding across her wrist,
Her solution still remains.
Yearning to lead a normal life,
Longing to feel the pain.
The numbness shortening her life,
The guilt reminding her of death.
Her self-infliction,
Her only solution.
"Get away!", she screams in her head,
Why can't she utter those words,
The fault is her.
Not kicking or screaming,
Not saying a word.
Her longing to feel something,
Other than his body on hers,
Leads to yet again,
The gliding across her wrist.
The anger taken out,
Until at last,
Her dreams of death.
She got her wish.
Copyright © Stephanie Oakland | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Stephanie Oakland Poem
The question is, would she rather die alive? Or live after she's died? Because right now, the only thing keeping her alive is her love for those around her. The fact that she cares about their happiness more than her own. It's worth the struggle as long as they don't have to feel it. But if she gets to the point where she starts to care about herself, will it lessen that effect? Would she put her happiness before others? As it stands, all that would result in would be her own death. Taking her own life so that she wouldn't have to make this choice. So she wouldn't have to decide between a sea of misery or a nonexistent life. She's realized she's afraid of happiness, but why? Why doesn't she feel that she deserves happiness, yet everyone around her does? Is it fear of the unknown? Fear of herself? Fear of her place in this world? Of losing her identity? Her sense of self? Darkness and its consumption is all she's ever known. But it is what has helped her reach out to others, to relate to others. Where would she be without it?
She's preventing herself from happiness, of no one's fault but her own. She's addicted to the darkness. It consumes her, and she's addicted to that consumption.
Copyright © Stephanie Oakland | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Stephanie Oakland Poem
Red hot sensations,
How she loves them so.
Caught in the moment,
Nothing is wrong.
Hours pass,
What did she do.
She swore she wouldn't,
Again and again.
Yearning to ban them,
The demons from her core.
The evil to seep out.
Scars mark her broken heart,
The pain that no one see's.
Locking her soul away,
Giving no one the key.
Why does she allow this,
Night after night.
Can't he see her stone cold face,
Can't he see her tears?
Tears that turn to blood,
Dripping down her limbs.
He has to see her pain,
It's written on her skin.
Copyright © Stephanie Oakland | Year Posted 2017
|