Mental Health
How to Let Go
Bottled up bullshit got you down?Stiffened neck from the weighted crown?You want to know about catharsis?Thankfully, you came to the artistI wrote the book, you knowThe art of letting goYears of practiceWe been at thisGiving a shitTil sick of itReplacing bad luck—Not giving a fuckSo that pit in your gut... Guess what?No one else mindsLiving their daily grindsSo just like them not caring 'bout youJust forget it tooRelief don't come from constant worrySo drop that shit- and hurryTime spent fixatin' and stressin'Just keeps you from your blessin'Under the crunch of concernYour soul just burnsTrapped in your mindThe problem rewindsTake a lesson from the professor of profanityClear your damn insanityRemember you deserve a little treatReward yourself with something sweetSelf-care's super important, right?So let's get fucked up tonight!T-Swizzle said it bestCause, you're gonna Shake It Off nextGet dressed up and feelin' hotA fix-all— one more shotLiquid courage in a short glassThen go shake your assThe problem is obviously thinkingLike most, it's easily solved by drinkingTake a deep breath in and spit it back outThen drink until you black outGone are the dark thoughts and slursReplaced with dark droughts and blursParty it out, bump and thriveHow'd I get home? Did I drive?Stumble into bedLast thing before a pounding headWake up stiff and pissedCross the old problem off the list.Replace it with the new one.Coyote ugly, what have I done?
By Tales from a Madman8 months ago in Poets
The Shape of Absence
Sometimes I imagine the ordinary. Being born into a supportive, loving family. Working in places that value integrity, consistency, and care, not just in theory, but in practice. Friendships rooted in mutual attunement, reciprocity, and understanding. The ability to confide in others and feel held, not managed. From what I’ve observed, these things are fairly common. For me, imagining them feels like ordering from a menu, only to be told the kitchen has no ingredients. Instead, I was born into neglect and abuse, and conditioned early toward self-abandonment. Basic human decency and compassion were treated as indulgences rather than necessities. I worked under managers and systems that rewarded minimum effort while extracting everything I had to offer. Recognition was scarce. Favoritism was routine. Toxicity was normalized. Gaslighting was fluent. Reasonable emotional responses were treated as liabilities, slowly eroding my self-worth and well-being. Friendships followed a familiar pattern. I became the caretaker. The translator. The one who overextended and overperformed. I learned to compress my feelings into palatable sound bites only to be ignored, minimized, or met with quiet discomfort. Acknowledgment, when it came, was often thin and fleeting. When I shared my lived experiences, my trauma, my nerve endings, they were rarely met with support. More often, they became a manual for destabilizing me more efficiently. So I find myself longing for the mundane things many take for granted. I know no life is perfect. But most people seem to have some access to these qualities,a measure of safety, consistency, or care. As I heal, my pattern recognition sharpens. Loneliness paired with emotional depletion and a growing allergy to shallow connections has made isolation and self-reliance my default form of regulation.
By Alicia Melnick 8 months ago in Poets
