I love the raw poems on Souldier girl’s blog. This one felt particularly familiar. “She shed her skin. She bled the pages of her day.” It reminds me of the cathartic moment when you write a bit of your memoir and feel like you were able to release the pain. The ink becomes the blood.
Guess I need to get a grip
Guess I need to be harder
Tough like a rock
No storm shall wither
Straighten up and fly right
Little sister
…All these lies I told myself
Under the wool of a petticoat
With lace up boots
and a velvet bow
But the material scratched…
right into my sensitive soul
Revealing the innocence of a naked girl
…With no excuses left for truth
Smiles skip by, unhinged in twos
I don’t need a reminder of
how deep I miss you…
I watch my feet move
Attached to another body
I can not feel my heart
It floats in a transparent jar
Titled “random art”
The school year has started
The children dissect it
Unable to revive her …they retire exhausted
Make me a project
Alone on a park bench
The coat has blown away
All that is left
….just me…
bdlheart 
Thank you my friend ❤️
It felt very close to home.
You’re not alone- I know it doesn’t feel that way a lot tho. Thank you for coming to visit me :))
The longer I blog, the more I come to understand how many of us there are. Auntie suggested support groups, but I didn’t see any that related to me. Indiana is not the greatest in the mental health department. I started writing my story and felt compelled to share. I feel support in reading and interacting.
I do too. Yeah I’ve never actually attended a support group- although it’s been strongly recommended, lol. Just can’t do it. I have to gush my true self out- this works for me too. Love when you come visit me here friend.
I love visiting. I’d try a group ifthere was a good one, yet I get more from this. In the hospital I
Hit send before I finished. Attended groups in the hospital but it was difficult to let my guard down. Think I’ll stick with writing.