By H. Dawood

CN: Depression; anxiety; trauma


Part I
waking up sad
I tell myself to try
smile and laugh through the urge to cry

I can move from my bed
to the warmth of the shower
and then I stay under there
for hour after hour
realising with a toxic power
that I can’t do shit


I know there is more

I see all the strength that I give
and I yearn to let myself forgive


my trauma is made of steel
it blocks out my appeals,
it flits, twists into a crushing abyss –

needing to be gooder than great
suffocation keeps me up late
and I cannot breathe and it hurts to laugh
I am stuck listing all that I lack

I move from the bed to the cold shower
no matter how much water, a seed that will never flower

instead I will spiral, a sickening cycle,
forcing me to submit, forcing me to commit,
forcing me to admit
that I am totally unfit

and become cripplingly aware
that I can’t do shit

Part II
You are sunshine to me,
the only thing that matters,
growing through the grass
with a stem that shakes and shatters.

Remember you are enough
a girl whose words are broken,
too much weight in your heart
to never let it open.

It loves and loves and loves
it weeps with pain and joy,
growing through the dirt each day,
expanding in the void.

Remember when you breathe
that it flows from me to you.

Remember you are sunshine,
dandelion and dew.

Yalla –

take a deep breath in,
and let it cleanse your soul.

Despite the dull pain
your heart is made of gold.

Featured image by dracisk

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