yourglitchingtv

[yourglitchingtv]

Living The Dream - Ethan Jewell

The Dark

i cry alone in the night oyou don't have to see my tears an di'm the most unstable when i'm controlled by all my fears i hate how my body is so i avoid these mirrors and i'm not so happy things aren't always as they appear the fog is slowly gone and it's becoming all so clear the version of my happy self is no longer near feeling this way for the entirety of a year so i listen as the sadness whispers things in my ears i rip myself away into a lonely empty hole and you take yourself away as i sell my whole soul digging into this depression like a crying little mole i fall down an eternal fireman's pole driving on this road alone it's already 3 am my headlights try their best to push through the dark i'm trapped in but the ghosts of the past stand ahead my racing car they crep and they haunt and keep my thoughts and me from going all too far my emotional comfort runs full out of gas ad i'm stuck in the cold wonder how long i can last so i bang my head to get the demons out upon the shattered glass hoping i won't survive this mental bash i hike down this path and arrive at the witch's altar i bow and worship this sadness that has become my martyr she whispers in my ear why have you done this and what have you done why couldn't you have made the right choice for once so i scream and i sob and i fall into this hole my breath leaves my chest as i hit the worm filled soil i see the stars and they tell me i don't deserve my soul and let me tell you it's real fucking hard to get out of a hole when they take when they take when they take away your rope they sell happiness all wrapped inside a pill so i keep writing these poems just to feel something still this can't be happening no this can't be real but i condemned myself to this place myself i have sealed so i stprint into the dark to shrivel up all by myself and i look at all these people how we're all unkept secrets from my past come rising to the top and one day i'll throw myself off the ledge in order to make it stop and they sell joy all wrapped inside a pill our own unique character our consumption will slowly kill just swallow it down before you break the rules too hard and stay right there stay inside your own backyard i want to leave this place and never return i want to leave this place take my past and let it burn i want to leave this place and leave no rock unturned until one day i can make it stop and i can make it stop

[yourglitchingtv]

Loneliness In The Presence Of Company - Ethan Jewell

it's getting bad again

i think i understood it was getting bad again when i started to do everything sitting down and i think i understood it was getting bad again when a smile became more difficult to produce than a frown when the room didn't light up whenever i was around and when the tears came silently, not creating any sound and i think i knew it was getting bad again when my own internal clock stopped ticking when the itching for joy became my new favorite pastime when a laugh with my friends cost much more than a dime it was more like an act that i put on with a grinning mouth that isn't even mine and i think i knew things were getting bad again when my bed went from being a resting place to being a tomb when i couldn't look any of my friends in the face and when i started to assume that i wasn't wanted or needed when my head felt haunted and i pleaded and i think i knew it was getting bad again when my pen felt too heavy to pick up and write when the same damn haunted dreams played in my head throughout the entire night so i rip out my hair in hopes that i'll be able to see clearly in hopes that those i love dearly will notice do the empty patches on my head express it to you or should i keep silent and internalize what i'm going through or should i continue to release my empty screams into nothingness with tears flooding down my face tell me , if i'm so important to you then why am i so easily replaced i think i knew it was getting bad again when the fog came back the crows flew away and the darkness started to attack when a simple conversation became exhausting and i avoided all human contact and when i began to wonder if i'll ever get my permanent smile back

[yourglitchingtv]

Anita D - Button Poetry

And The Psych Ward Says

there is no need to worry this asylum was built to help you and just like the straps on the stretcher you rolled in on we are going to keep you safe and secured notice the locked doors and all the cameras perched in the corners like hawks we will be watching but this is all for you and your well being you are sick , anxious , depressed a danger to yourself the state told us to hold you for 72 hours but if you sign this paper we can pretend that your stay here this weekend , is voluntary

friday morning , you will be woken up by strangers in white coats and clipboards you will be asked again and again and again about why and how you want to kill yourself be honest remember , you are only here for 3 days so take advantage of the 5 to 10 minutes you have with the doctors but understand he has a list of patients as long as his pay stubs so you won't be receiving any ACTUAL therapy sessions while you're here but we will recommend them as treatment for after we let you out until then we want you to be comfortable so sit back enjoy the plastic furniture and colouring books we have old radios with no antennae but the static is still loud enough to drown out the sound of the woman screaming in 2B that's just cindy she just does that sometimes well , she didn't always but she does now and until we can find the right medication we are going to keep helping here just like we want to keep helping you if only you'd let us

it's friday morning and you haven't even tried the meds yet you're still lying to us about holding the knife to your arm like your parents haven't told us everything just be honest and let us help you did i mention that the state only recognizes the existence of psychiatric patients monday through friday meaning the past 48 hours you've spent here didn't even count meaning we still have time for a break through or a breakdown this is a good thing this means we still have time to help you and i can see that you're getting upset but do not walk away from me with tears streaming and knuckles buried in palms that type of body language is aggressive and we might have to do something about that a sedative , maybe diazepam , perhaps ? i don't think being alone is best for you right now maybe , you should spend time with the other patients get to know how they got here listen to them when they tell you you got lucky getting placed in this psych ward we are one of the good ones and we want you to stay here we figure , if we keep you long enough maybe you'll eventually start to fit in or maybe if we keep you locked up you will eventually start to act out and we will be right here waiting to prescribe you something to label you with a diagnosis we didn't cause your social anxiety we only heightened what was already there we just want to see you reach your full potential as a patient we told you this asylum was built to help you

[yourglitchingtv]

another one dedicated to him

Life Of The Party poems , Olivia Gatwood

The Lover As Tapeworm

everything i put inside of myself somehow ends up inside of you instead & so you grow & i shrink & don't notice until my best friend draws me from the side just by running a fine - tipped pen down a sheet of white paper . you walk into a house & swallow all of the furniture . i fell in love with you at parties . when you laughed at my jokes , the sound lived inside of me for weeks . i can't tell the difference between my thoughts & your voice . my intestines & you how is it possible that you are both my joy & the taker of it ? i told you that when i'm sad i do not eat . you said you did not love me & i let the forks turn to rust . you came to the door with sinking eyes & a dry tongue & begged me to put something inside of myself to make you fat again , you said , send me a picture of every meal & another of your clean plate . i said okay okay okay i will . & so i boiled some spinach snapped a photo , then slid it into the dog's bowl , walked to your apartment left the bare dish at your feet .

[yourglitchingtv]

Trista Mateer

teach your daughters to say no . teach your daughters to raise their voices . teach your daughters to make waves . to value safety over politeness . to yell fire instead of help . teach your daughters to feel comfortable in their own bodies . teach your daughters to live without shame . teach your daughters to hit first . to bite back . to burn the world down when they are mistreated . teach your daughters to out their abusers . to be deadly serious . to be dangerous . to be sure . to know what they want . teach your daughters to take a stand . to be bold . to be brave . teach your daughters to believe in a better world . and then tell them they deserve one . say, you do not have to suffer like i have suffered say , the legacy of girlhood does not have to be one of pain

[yourglitchingtv]

My Father's Eyes , My Mother's Rage , Rose Brik

damn right i'm angry . i've spent my life recovering from things that i should have been protected from. i was too young to become a ghost full of grief , children are supposed to be happy and free . don't tell me i wouldn't be who i am today , without all the struggles i faced . i already know that . i could have been a kid instead of being forced to grow up . the people who were supposed to protect me , failed me . no amount of healing will change that . damn right i'm angry , i'll never get my childhood back .

[yourglitchingtv]

dedicated to him , fuck you for ruining my life .

Life Of The Party poems , Olivia Gatwood

My Grandmother Asks Why I Don't Trust Men

if you have a son , how will you love him ? she is pacing the living room , while the Thanksgiving Day Parade plays behind her , a montage of inflated cartoon bodies , floating slow down 6th Avenue , smiles painted onto their faces . i consider not responding . i consider explaining that i can love him and not trust him . i consider saying that i won't love him at all . just to scare her . instead , i say , if i am ever murdered , like , body found in a ditch , mouth stuffed with dirt , stocking around my neck , identified by my toenails , please don't go looking for a guilty woman . when my father and i go for a job on the arroyo and he runs ahead , leaving me alone with my breath and an empty trail , i keep running - but now , from something . when i cross a coyote drinking from the ditch , i am relieved it is an animal . when i see him , my father , stretching against a tree , i scream at him for leaving me alone . he grabs my shoulders as if to shake my loose parts into place what are you afraid of ? he asks . why are you so afraid ? i don't know why i'm doing this - playing sho and tell with the times i've walked fast in the dark . maybe i see myself in the worst of it . maybe if i can imagine myself in the shallow water , you should too . maybe i am tired of hearing people talk about the murder of girls like it is both beautiful and out of the ordinary . i ask the hotel attendant to put me in a room near the elevator . i listen to my best friend breathe on the line while she walks home . sometimes i search "woman's body found in" when i visit a new city . then , i learn her name . her age . where they found her - under a baseboard , limbs folded into a closet . i learn her hobbies - that she loved to sing . i watch the security footage they discovered of her last moments , i watch her move and breathe like the rest of us . i watch her look over her shoulder three times before walking out of view . i know my fear better than i know my own body .

[yourglitchingtv]

for my father , though we go through rough times you are the only one who has truly always been on my side .

Life Of The Party poems , Olivia Gatwood

The Sandias , 2008

the only person who knows ,

and i mean really knows –

from even eight states away ,

a pitch so gentle only

he can hear it – my sadness ,

is my father who , when i was sixteen

and experiencing my first heartbreak ,

knew nothing but also

knew everything at once ,

and without asking any questions ,

took me on the back of his

motorcycle and drove us

up to the mountains where ,

in the middle of summer ,

we rode the ski lift

up and down , admiring , silently ,

the tall grass and blond poppies

the untouched globes of dandelion

florets and the lonely boy

at his summer job who pulled

the lever just for us , the only

customers , to lift our bodies

up this silent beast , and i

was too young to point

and say , how beautiful ,

still stuck in my teen religion

of black eyeliner , eyes rolling ,

but knew , despite my denial ,

that something here was

worthy of praise and i guess

that was the lesson ,

my father , who knows ,

and i mean really knows ,

my sadness , knew that i

didn't need to be told ,

i needed to see , that despite

it all , there was still

something alive beneath me

[yourglitchingtv]

for my best friend , the bestest girl ive ever met

Life Of The Party poems , Olivia Gatwood

Girl

i don't think i'll ever not be one

even when the dozen grays sprouting

from my temple take hold and spread

like a sterling fungus across my scalp

even when the skin on my hands is loose

as a duvet , draped across my knuckles ,

even when i know everything there is to know

about heartbreak or envy or the mortality

of my parents , i think , even then i'll want

to be called girl , no matter the mouth

it comes from or how they mean it ,

girl the curling smoke after a sparkler

spatters into dark , girl , sweet spoon of crystal sugar

at the bottom of my coffee , girl , whole mouth

of whipped cream at the birthday party , say girl ,

i think , i'll never die , i'll never stop running

through sprinklers or climbing out of open windows

i'll never pass up a jar of free dum dums

i'll never stop ripping out the hangnail with my teeth

i'm a good girl , bad girl , dream girl , sad girl ,

girl next door sunbathing in the driveway

i wanna be them all at once , i wanna be

all the girls i've ever loved ,

mean girls , shy girls , loud girls , my girls ,

all of us angry on our porches ,

rolled tobacco resting on our bottom lips

our bodies are the only thing we own ,

leave our kids nothing when we die

we'll still be girls then , too , we'll still be pretty ,

still be loved , still be soft to the touch

pink lip and powdered nose in the casket

a dozen men sobbing in stiff suits

yes , even then , we are girls

especially then , we are girls

silent and dead and still

the life of the party