You are sensitive to your surroundings and that’s not going to change. Rather than trying to suppress it use it as a tool to keep moving forward.
Tag Archives: depression
You Are
You are a poet because of the way you need to document your life. Skin Show
Passionate Seekers
Empty sex, soulless endeavors and failed attempts at trying to find ourselves somewhere buried beneath all the shit we were drowning in. He called me a bitch in front of the kid and I didn’t like that so I reached out and socked him right in the chin. “I don’t need this. Why am I evenContinue reading “Passionate Seekers”
How Close
Two fingers a measure of how close or how far I’m am from checking this off as one more unfinished assignment -Saschia Johnson
Sad
Some whiskey in a glass I want to drink it but my belly hurts There’s world issues And positive thoughts Out there But it just hurts to smile Secrets or not Quitting is nipping at my heels Have a drink with me Let me forget for moment This up-hill battle Only i won’t because HowContinue reading “Sad”
not my business
is she black no she’s ⊕ white is she loved by any other than the one that’s love is pure ? it holds her down *it- a woman, not a companion Because companions required the stuff she didn’t have to give she buried them along with pure love in a grave *it heldContinue reading “not my business”
Love Notes from my Spine
I’m holding you up like a puppet on a string but you have to move your own arms and legs You can do this, I shout from behind I support your rapid decline and slow ascension Rolling down has momentum it’s the act of Sisyphus that brings progress. -Saschia Johnson Featured Image: Sir EdwardContinue reading “Love Notes from my Spine”
Connections
These hands write and write Wandering into the crevices between my floor boards I thought I heard a bed bug It’s causing this insane itch There’s a connection, I know it Maybe it was that night with the Russian The silly thing must want me to teach it English. Or it’s sent from a loverContinue reading “Connections”
Wet books
Wet Books That smell of wet books and Chanel no 5 is no invitation There are no arms open stiff I freeze Under my soles is the threshold A cold door knob damp in my palm Dead echoes haunt from behind “Vanity!” they scream A million hands reaching to save me from their sins fingersContinue reading “Wet books”
Pushing
Some days I’m just pushing through one more day. Just adding one more piece to the pile of experience. Every piece counts. Keep compiling. Yet, I can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt from my minimal effort. -Saschia Johnson