It struck me,
When my phone asked, no, demanded—
To back it up,
How machines claim their needs...
Sometimes, more often than not,
better than we do!

I am good at being alone.
The dishes get done
when I feel like doing them.
Silence hangs like a painting
I chose myself.
The hours bend gently around me,
and I call it peace.

I laugh out loud
at my own jokes,
call it self-love,
call it growth.
The plants don’t mind
if I forget to water them,
and neither do I.
This is thriving, I tell myself.

Then I spend three days
with people I love.
Not performing.
Not planning.
Just existing
side by side-
a meal shared
without occasion,
laughter that erupts
without needing a reason.

I remember something
older than language:
that warmth isn’t just a temperature.
That joy has a different flavour
when someone else tastes it too.
I remember that solitude
was never meant to be
a permanent home-
only a resting place.

There is a part of me
that longs for gardens
we plant together,
for walls we build
with laughter baked in.
For shoes at the door
that aren’t all mine.

Maybe the soul remembers
what modern life unlearned-
that we were made
to brush shoulders
to pass bread
to belong.

And maybe
what I called thriving
was just surviving
with the lights on.

Ever noticed someone's cry,
like the prison it holds,
Where is the unknown present?

You chose to support them,
making them comfortable with the inmost of thy heart,
as a reflection of thy deepest feelings,
to heal those with similar struggles,
Improving their mental health.

These profound mysteries of the unknown are waiting to be unraveled,
But they don't express themselves.

So you offer a hug,
curing their darkness,
resembling a sense of belongingness,
Knowing they'll be loved no matter what they go through,
Even if they're incapable of seeing it.

You're forever loved,
Like the heavens that lie beyond our existence of infinity.

Why do we fear,
the ones who hold us dear?
They love us, sure,
but, do they know us anymore?
They see the fake,
cause' that's all they can take.
So, in the end,
We're alone again.
But, do not fear,
for I am here,
to comfort all your sorrows away.

I wish I could show you,
The sparkle in your eyes.
The same one you're afraid
people won't regard.
as they close their eyes in the rare moments
when you show it just a little
But I wish I could tell you,
it's not because they despise it
but the sparkle in your eyes!?
Its Blindingly Bright

Imagine

Having an illness that impacts every facet of your life.

It’s there when you wake up, and when you go to sleep,

An illness that impacts all of your organs.

That ravages your personality and sense of self.

That destroys relationships, careers, and engagement in life...

And nobody supports you.

-

You are ridiculed, blamed. Told that you are stupid, need to snap out of it.

Others gossip about how you’ve been looking and acting.

You become bathed in shame so suffocating, it nearly drowns you.

Treatment is a long, arduous battle that many face on their own. Many are forced to keep up with work or school because this isn’t seen as a “real” illness. But you are essentially fighting yourself through the process. In fact, many can't even afford proper treatment.

If you don’t recover, the shame persists. You believe you’re defective and failed treatment, that it’s all your fault.

If you recover, nobody rings a bell. Few congratulate you or say much at all. Many who recover hit burn out, and are then questioned as to why they are burnt out.

The shame never escapes you.

I hope one day
Individuals with mental illness
Will be able to celebrate wins and have others support them in their low points
As if it is a completely normal and expected reaction.

Please support those near and dear
They are fighting a battle most would fear.

It suits you
             And me
That's all that matters  
It suits
The mirror not to reflect less of you
It suits
Your clothes to lie that they've grown

To use fountain pens
                             Write left handed
            Smudge words with wrists
           Before meaning can be seen

It suits us to know
                           Without telling each other

You don't have to believe me when I say
They might just love you anyway

What do I even know
But they may notice if you don't show

I know it really isn't my place
To ask if you checked just in case

Knocked on the door
They slammed into my face

At least
The olive branch is free
Please,
Take it with you when you leave