A New Heart

It tangles up my mind

A shadow overcomes

I can’t see

I can’t hear

I can’t think

Everywhere I look

Is another obstacle

For me to climb over

Instead I get stuck underneath

Can’t climb up to staggered edge

That pierces my hands

Blood stains the rock

Leaving behind my dignity

I try to make it up

But I get caught in the fog

My brain feels like

It is somewhere in between

Heaven and hell

I guess it’s the Earth

And I never belonged

So I don’t know what the

Atmosphere is like

I’ll get used to it

With deep breaths

And a new heart

Ready to join

Where I am supposed to be


The Broken Ones

Waiting for the rain to start

I live my life trying not to fall apart

Spend way too much on my shopping cart

Filled with life’s bowl of candy


But wait

The candy isn’t for my plate

It goes to those who add to hate

The sugar is too sweet for me


Loving the truth is never easy

Especially when it’s wrong


I don’t deserve to feel the way I do

But neither does he, neither do you

The whole wide world is ours to make

With handmade love and hand rolled clay

We are meant for something more

All someone’s daughter, someone’s son

We are all the broken ones


We fall, we steal, we bend, we feel

We fall. We steal, we bend, we feel,


Touch me where I need it most

Inside my heart, I’ve put a moat

Alligators and soldiers stand at post

Waiting for someone to come


My brain needs some stimulation

I’m sick of lifelong simulations

My future is my own fixation

It’s not very clear


Loving the truth is never easy

Especially when it’s when wrong


I don’t deserve to feel the way I do

But neither does he, neither do you

The whole wide world is ours to make

With handmade love and hand rolled clay

We are meant for something more

All someone’s daughter, someone’s son

We are all the broken ones


We fall, we steal, we bend, we feel

We fall. We steal, we bend, we feel,


We feel the loneliness when we aren’t alone

I feel my heart turning into stone

Statues of me are nothing but bone

Remnants of a short life lived


A short life now life living free

On an earth that sings along


I don’t deserve to feel the way I do

But neither does he, neither do you

The whole wide world is ours to make

With handmade love and hand rolled clay

We are meant for something more

All someone’s daughter, someone’s son

We are all the broken ones


We fall we heal, we bend, we feel

We fall, we heal, we bend, we feel


Stand tall, it’s real, we’ll mend, we feel
We are all the broken ones

Hope Is Now My Friend

I’m not quite at the surface

From six feet underneath

The soil is suffocating

My eyes can’t seem to see


I buried myself below

To see if I could stay

Broken as my tortured soul

Awaiting Judgement Day


I’m not deserving of love

From those who seem to care

I trick myself into thinking

That others will be there


I know I’m deeply cared for

Ny those who know me best

But will that really matter

When I’m in eternal rest?


I need to be there for me

The person I am now

Is not who I want to be

When the baby breaks the bough


She’ll break it and fall forward

When someone wants to help

I find out that I was her

And she is now myself


I am weak and helpless

Just like a younger child

Who needs someone to be there

When nightmares become wild


Vivid dreams await me

At the pearly gates

My infant form resists

While I ask “Why so late?”


Someday I’ll wake up

From these images inside

The outside me wants to live on

The inside wants to die


Wither into nothing

Except for new beginnings

A fetus full of roses

Not ready for the ending


I’ll see a brand new light

Death is needed to fully live

I rose above the graveyard trench

Gain all he has to give


I’m ready to start new

A being full of light

Radiating through the window

Leading the stray kite


Time to begin again

No longer giving in

Life is not the enemy

Hope is now my friend

Build Myself Up


School is starting and college students are about to move in. People are doing big things with their life. New beginnings mean a brand new perspective on where their lives are going to go and where they’ll end up.

I’m working on a house made of Legos.

I am at the age where I should be a sophomore in college. At this point last year, I was super excited to move into my dorm and adjust to living away from home. Sure, home was 10 minutes away, but I was still going to be away. The longest I had stayed away from home before was the nine months I was in residential treatment three hours away. This was completely different. This was supposed to be a time in my life where I was growing more mature and having the time of my life. That however didn’t happen.

After being hospitalized once in the first month of classes, and another time a few weeks into second semester, I knew I couldn’t go back to school. My doctors and parents agreed, and I was put on sick leave. My professors didn’t realize I was and kept giving me bad grades until my adviser told them. She sent me an email so we could talk about my failing grades that I earned when I wasn’t there. I told her that I was not going to be at school, and she finally notified my professors. I was told that i could come back this coming year if I wanted to.

After two more hospitalizations after getting out of school, I am now at home and looking for things to do. These things have included volunteering, getting a job, losing a job, and having many problems with my mental health and Asperger’s. I have been up and down. My obsessions have gotten deeper. It started with Deadpool, and now it’s on to Legos.

I’ve spent hours most days in the last few weeks working on my Legos. Each kit I build, I feel like I have control over something in my life. I have built several sets. I also bought a box of just Legos with no directions. I decided to build a house with those pieces.

As I build the house, I build myself back up. I make my brain stronger. I am able to focus, sometimes hours, sometimes minutes. It’s still more than I can most of the time. It is giving me a sense of purpose. When my family tells me how good my creations are, or tell me I’m creative, it helps me realize that I actually have a talent. I feel good about myself, even if it’s just for a few moments. When I feel low, I can put down a foundation of a new creation to create a foundation for happiness. When I’m high, I stack my racing thoughts as I stack the bricks to form a tower that fails to break down. When I’m just in the middle, I sort the bricks into their right containers to help me sort out my own emotions. Bricks can be my strength when I can’t feel strong myself.

So far, the house has a sofa, table, lamp, sink, bathtub, sink, toilet, bed, stove, and dresser. There is plenty more to come. As I put it together, I put myself together.

Until I’m stronger, I’ll keep on building. I’ll find level ground, put one brick down, and stack. I’ll stack and I’ll stack until I am okay. That could be tomorrow, that could be next year. Whenever it is, I know the blocks will stand tall for me.

The Rich and The Poor

I wish life would give

Chances to the deserving

Instead of the poor


Not poor in money

Poor in soul and attitude

Rich in mean actions


We are poor in hope

Poor in opportunities

Poor in happiness


But as we raise rocks

Out of the water to try

To knock out our pain


We realize we have

Extra change in our pockets

Gold shines with the sun


The poor left behind

While we gain coins of knowledge

Not coins made of gore


We don’t pick pockets

Of the rich in wickedness

Rich in shallow thoughts


Out gold is inside

Our hearts, heads, souls, and bodies

We will glimmer on


Out bodies will glow

Shine bright like Jupiter does

Our smiles change the world


We have won the day

They might be rich in evil

We are rich in strength


They might try to trade

Our joy for old bitterness

But we shall prevail


We will make it through

With out pockets full of joy

The poor’s are drained clean


No One Will Be Defined

Lovely bones

Fixed with ugly casts

As lovely people

Come with ugly pasts


We come from beauty

Like the outcasts before

Beauty overlooked

When we’re being ignored


We try to raise our voices

While they try to kill our sound

We are not all radios

You can’t turn the volume down


We build our stage back up again

Where we aim for support

We advocate and love each other

While they still try to distort


Our words say what we mean

They can’t unplug our vocal chords

We yell out our story to the crowd

One money can’t afford


We scream it for the world

To hear each word we speak

To teach them how to join in

They won’t hide, but they will seek


Each one of us is fighting

Some we never would have thought

Then we stand up and tell them

It is time that we all fought


For some this is a battle

And the war is on it’s way

Some of our wars are over

And each battle’s stuck on replay


We’ll fight and give thanks

To those who stand behind

We will praise each person

No one will be defined

We Are Fighters, We Are The Beach

Anxiety like an ocean            
Standing at the shore

You wait at the edge

All is calm, until the tide reaches out

You keep walking forward

You are neck deep and go further

Worry about drowning

Covers your head and you are gone


Depression is the umbrella

Sit on your comfortable chair

Hiding under the shade

It starts to rain but you don’t

Want to get out of the comfort zone

People start to leave, but you stay

Why walk in the rain

When you are already withdrawn


Bipolar like a shovel and pail

Pail sits empty, nothing inside

Waiting to fill up so it isn’t so alone

The shovel starts to pick up and

One scoop turns into 50 scoops

25 scoops in, you start to feel whole again

Then each scoop adds strain

Then a sandcastle is built and it all starts again


PTSD is like a shark

Comes after you when

They smell blood

Can be kind, but after they meet you

Your body is never the same

Scars on your body, Scars on your mind

Ghost pains from all you lost

When you lose, you also gain



Borderline Personality Disorder is sunscreen

Promise to protect the skin

Then wears off

It is not the sunscreen’s fault

It was made that way

So people will put more on

SPF 25 turns into SPF 120

Never know what the sun will do


Schizoaffective Disorder is a lifeguard

Watches the water on your chair

Way too high with a sense of power

Then see someone drowning

Climb down the chair, as low as you can go

Rub out to the waves to learn that no one is there

So far out, you need the lifesaver to hold onto


Mental Illness is a beach

Everybody has their place

On the sand or in the water

What you need, what you bring

We gather together

To make a toast

To our differences and our strength

Figure out what we need to stay strong


We are not always right, but our fight is never wrong”