Maybe They Know And Just Don’t Care

This is a bit of a different post for me! I’m not a confident poet, but I came across a poem I wrote a while back and wanted to share it with you.

Let me know in the comments what you think!


The wandering hand in a dark nightclub,

the footsteps that follow on a poorly-lit street.

The wolf-whistle coming from the builder on that ledge,

“Give me a smile, love”, as they dig up the path.

The boss placing his hand on a knee in a meeting,

knowing it will stay there

until the meeting is over.

The one that is valued only for looks and

not for knowledge, experience, ideas.

The girl that feels danger walking alone at night,

but doesn’t feel safe getting a taxi on her own.

Another unwanted email with a photo attachment.

The eyes that stray across the body at work,

trying to ignore the lewd remarks and suggestive looks.

Two bodies on a train,

one edging ever closer,

oblivious to the other’s distress,

or maybe they know and just don’t care.

Pale Skin, Green Veins

Pale skin. Green veins. Purple shadows. My face.

Stare at the mirror. Plead for change.

Feel the shame. No escape.

Pale skin. Green veins. Purple shadows. My face.

Feel depression’s cold embrace.

Trapped inside a self-built cage.

Pale skin. Green veins. Purple shadows. My face.

Stare at the mirror. Plead for change.

 

Scattered freckles. Brown eyes. Dark lashes. Red smile.

Stare at the mirror. We share a grin.

Take a deep breath. Feel worthwhile.

Scattered freckles. Brown eyes. Dark lashes. Red smile.

Myself and happiness reconcile.

Finally comfortable in my skin.

Scattered freckles. Brown eyes. Dark lashes. Red smile.

Stare at the mirror. We share a grin.

State of Mind

To struggle to catch a breath

to have a mind that never stops

to spend every night worrying about the next day

to spend every morning worrying about the day ahead

to be lost (inside your own head)

to struggle to get out of bed

to struggle to leave the house

to feel unsafe at your safest

to feel a weight pressing down on your chest (that weight is life)

to feel ashamed of your own mind

to be told to cheer up (depression isn’t real, you’re just upset)

to be told to pull yourself together (anxiety isn’t real, stop worrying)

to hide in a toilet for hours because no one will find you in there

to want help but the doctor makes you anxious

to want help but it’s all in your head

to want help but no one believes you

to feel lonely but want to be alone

to think too much

to think too little

to care too much

to care too little

to be scared.


Inspired by “Some People Know” by Rita Ann Higgins.