A Penny- a poem

~Living in a household of abuse and shouting almost constantly is no way to live~

A shout (a low voice)
A shout (a higher one)
A shout
Is all it takes for me
To become the size of a penny
And for the roof to come crashing down
A little penny
Rolling between his fingertips
Rolling down the stairs
Chased by a cat with moons in her eyes
Cold and metallic
Like blood in my mouth
Rolling with my thighs and feet up in the air
A penny
Inside a piggy bank
With no plug to pull
And I will roll away

 

 

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When it rains I feel better 

When it rains I feel better

Tears streaming down window pains 

Someone to cry with 

My face turned up to the clouds, mouth open,

Gulping rainwater until I have to stop for breath 

A tummy full of clouds almost kicks the feeling out of me

The feeling of things I should have done and have yet to do

Drunk 

Sticky sweet taste in my mouth that stops me from speaking 

It’s breathtaking 
Someone to cry with 

Wallpaper- a poem on mental illness

I wear my hurt on my body like wallpaper
Florals, textures and stripes
Inked and stuck down on skin.

Patterns I wonder if they are out of date
Trimmed and unfitting the wallpaper covers me
(It’s hard to breathe under a mask)

Eyes judging my beautiful tiger stripes
Cover your childrens eyes
Hope that one day they become humans instead of plasterboard.

 

~Emma

Manic. 

I feel like I am falling in love, over and over again, every minute. I am submerged beneath waves of happiness that I can quite literally feel flowing over my body. I am perspiring and shaking. And although I am in blissful beautiful Euphoria, it’s agonising, painful, uncomfortable and frightening. 

Being at such extremes of mood means feeling out of control and spiralling. I’m not sure I’m in control of my limbs or speech. Things come as bursts or explosions rather than flows of water in streams. These rushes of speech can have consequences but when your manic: actions have no consequences. 

Time to stay up till 4 in the morning, I guess.