Mental Health
An Actress. Content Warning.
I’ve reached out to my loved ones When I call, they don't answer Depression plus anxiety is like a cancer A claustrophobic cocktail with a Red Bull chaser A penciled-in problem with no eraser It's tailor-made, commissioned, stamped inside Embellished and embroidered with the stitches I hide My life's a costume parade, a year-round rave And I’ll do what I'm told to: Smile and wave! Seems I'm always the performer in this novelty show But I really do want world peace, just so you know God lives in the details, so I'll set the stage: A storybook setting with tears on the page Meticulously, I put the props in place With positive expressions painted over my face But it's never enough And I'm not allowed To separate myself from those who follow the crowd Where's the hope in me? Check the windows upstairs You'll see my dirty laundry hanging out in the air I'm carrying intrusive thoughts. I can't just pivot! You're out in the audience I have to live it This ain't a party or a picnic, and there is no relief I promise you there's more than five stages of grief Water-boarded dry heaves and cotton-mouthed cries The side effects of remedies for all of the lies I’ll swallow them down for this part that I play 'Cause everyone who knows my truth gets scared away The folks I need are absent, so far above me If they'd come to a show, I swear they'd love me Maybe they're right Perhaps I'm not worth the hassle Sorry, but your princess is in another castle The masquerade is over. Let me take a bow. I'll perform again tomorrow. It's time to rest, now. How did I get here? Practice. Practice. Practice. I'm not a faker or a fraud I'm simply an actress. AUTHOR’S NOTE: For me, poetry is both a form of escapism and an emotional snapshot. There’s an important distinction between writing from inside an experience and being defined by it.
By Laura Roodenburg2 months ago in Poets
