Outside

Outside I am:

Watching as they smile,

Listening as they laugh,

Sitting as they dance.

Looking away when they look back,

Glass walls holds me hostage.

But inside, I:

Press my face up to the view,

Of the people I once knew,

All reasons aside,

Let history slide,

Away from this room,

Away from this crowd,

Of blood like mine.

Wishing I was someone else,

Someone forgiven,

Someone brave,

Someone, unafraid,

Of wearing the dress,

Despite your brothers unsolicited shame.

Of dancing a mess,

Despite your body unwilling to be anything but tame.

For love of fun,

For connections and bonds,

For a string of familiarity I could never knit,

For a friendship spark from a candle never lit.

I sit here wishing, hoping, dreaming,

Of a life where I was in,

With those whom I love.

Of a life where I was one

With the laughter around me.

But instead I am me,

Solo girl on this whirlwind ride.

Face pressed against the glass,

Looking in, from the outside.

-N.B.

A Poem A Day Keeps the Doctor Away

(The mental doctor that is)

The Squirrel & The Fox

“I suppose I should write. I should really write something down,” said the sad fox to the lonely squirrel.

“I find that it is best to write in times so grey,” the squirrel returned.

“I think myself a lion, at times of brave display”

“Me thinks you’re just a coward, who likes to laugh and play,”

“Or, perhaps, I am a bird, flying free beneath the clouds!”

“Or, perhaps, your head is dense and heavy, and your wings are made of shrouds.”

“Dear squirrel, dost thou mock me? With lines so dry and grey?”

“Dear sir, why I would never, your mind doth carry you away. Oh my friend, I know your plight and I shall aid you in this quest! I can rid you of your riddles, and form a key to all your locks.”

“Dear squirrel, pray, you help me! Can thou free me from this box?”

“My dear friend, hear me closely. Your fur is brown and short, your eyes are dark and wide, your paws are sharp with daggers. Dear sir, you are a fox.”

-N.B.

I Am The Troll

Please do not tell me I am not who I am,

Though my worth has dwindled

From the girl I have been.

Heavy winds free my soul,

Sweep me up into your storm.

Self awareness formed this bridge,

And now I pay the toll.

To know oneself truly,

Cuts deep into shallow skin,

Fresh blood pools in waves,

Crashing and burning deep within.

Who am I, I now ask,

The naysayer who tore me in half,

The disbeliever who crushed my spirit,

The false friend who would not hear it.

Those around me,

Who pocket my blame,

In a coat, on a rainy day,

Disappear behind glass windows

Of the house I call my home.

In my home, which I call safe.

Spiteful souls, there are none.

But as a I gaze into the mirror,

And look upon my broken face,

I see the truth reflecting back,

Behind the barrel of a gun.

-N.B.

Escape

Green leaves, fallen too soon,

Crunch beneath my fast feet.

If only I could see above and below,

Simultaneous wishing, where reason and my wants meet.

“Stop running,” He says,

While my heart pace quickens and my legs itch to escape.

But his words can’t stop this nightmare.

Everyday the Earth crumbles beneath me,

And his words can’t make me safe.

So I run,

And all the while, eyes wide, I am scavenging for a new route,

Because happiness escaped me,

And I need a way out.

 

-N.B.

 

 

 

Too Far

Enconsced in the warm embrace of family,

I should be there.

Miles of distance separate,

For what purpose I ask myself as I sear.

Happiness out of reach,

Not here.

Circles envelope in my mind,

Of stories, or circumstances,

Of how they need me

And I, them.

My past plays on rewind.

As I sit here, perched in dilemmas,

And give birth to lifeless dreams,

This mindless heart reflects on her sorrows.

Too tired to try,

Too hurt to care.

Not here, I say.

I should be there.

-N.B.

The Right Thing

Criticism strikes like a knife to my soul,

Disguised as a joke,

But the pain stings sincere.

Was the right thing to spin the wheels of my rusty mind faster?

Was the right thing to never ask at all?

I am unaware of how I got here.

I am unsure of how my story ends,

All I know is this static condition,

And it was I who set the tone.

Forever pleasing,

Always willing,

Like a dog for approval’s bone.

I just wanted to do the right thing,

Let me try, Oh no, how dare I,

If I asked, shame on me,

I should’ve known.

The truth cuts deep,

When it stares you down in your reflection.

Accept your faults, and leave thoughts be.

But still I wonder,

What miraculous event will move my needle?

Its foundation stiff and stern.

A sea of mistakes, I’m always swimming,

But to drown, despicable me, I yearn.

No book or words could teach me,

My mind will never learn.

Come up for air,

Bad decisions, I breathe in.

One word, One trigger,

And my gun of sorrows lit.

Tragic clarity consumes my hope.

And then I know,

The right thing was never here.

The right thing required better.

Silly girl, too blind to see,

The right thing was not inside you.

The right thing was never me.

-N.B.