I keep hearing that
in order to exist properly
amongst your peers
you need a strong sense of self.
I think that
the stains on my shirt
melancholic playlist in my ears
grumbling tummy
and agitation with self help websites
might be as good as it gets for my early 20's.

and I'm tired of trying to be perfectly healthy all the time.
and I think capacity for constant self awareness is a privilege.

They say the silence is awkward
when it consumes an entire room.
But the thoughts are almost palpable.
I'm surprised no one has noticed sooner.
Thoughts of inequity.
Fear of rejection.
A concious sedation of self loathing and envy.
Faces running on auto pilot
in the few moments before everyone reaches for their phone
to drown out the quiet.
You can hear the girls comparing thighs
and hair
and dresses
because although we know the media is a generous artist
of flaws for the human form
we still worry that they are right about us.
Guys watching every twitch of lips
and fingertips
half of the room wants to scream
while the other half wants to run
but everyone is confused as to why.
Awkward silence is preferable, though,
to deadened conversation.
The ones where we mention the economy
or the war
or the friend that died last week
and no one knows if it was really an accidental suicide.
Where we paint a picture of bleak servitude
and lament our meager lots
So we stay quiet
except for the dinging of phones
until its time to go home
so that we can study for school
and get a degree that we think we have to have.
If only someone would question
just how much pieces of paper
dictate our lives
Money
Degrees
Concert tickets.
But no.
We all just linger
in the Awkward Silence.

when shall i learn that a line must be drawn
for the sake of my sanity
how can i accept my own demise due to my service of others?
i must wash my hands clean of the guilt i possess
for i harm no one as greatly as myself

i swim in oceans of my misery and drown in pools of my sorrow
terror fills my lungs and breaks away at the tissue in them

¨careful!¨ i scream
i cannot allow myself to fall victim to my own mind
the racing and pumping of my thoughts breaking down the barriers i have built
there is nothing left to protect my self-esteem
no armed guards to stop the negativity in its tracks
no brick wall to block the sadness from reaching me

dangerous. is the only world i can use to describe my thoughts
a battlefield of mines bursting with anger
sticks of dynamite, disguised as flowers to lure and destroy
the question is, who are they meant to hurt?

are they meant to agitate me further to turn my back on myself?
refusing the possibility that happiness can be found?
or are they meant to bring pain to others?
to keep me in control of the opinions and decisions of my peers?
does she aim to help or control?

perhaps, my mind is losing track of what i was thinking
allowing me room to doubt myself
is my mind trying to convince me that i am the parasite in the lives of others,
feeding off of their souls
i believe she is right
to tell me that i do things in order to gain
she tells me, that i do not wish to help, only to hurt

i understand now that i am up against myself
left up to my own devices
no one is under obligation to assist me in battling my demons
i will struggle and fight, until my last breath
to let my own mind defeat me, is to allow defeat inside of my own fortress

i will never be unarmed again

I've hit a wall lately
A wall so tall it seems impassable.
I wake up daily to it encompassing my bed.
Making waking up a test of endurance.
Once I'm passed that, there's just another wall.
Around social interactions, work, moving, and to be honest.
It's all just ******* walls.
Walls I thought I broke down, that are now 10x as big.
Did I mention my fear of heights?
I take pills that are supposed to help,
and they do, but these halflives are nothing compared to these walls.
They're made not of cement but of sentiment and wicked dreams.
Thoughts of all the horrible options that could be.
Thoughts of a depressed self and a depressed spouse.
"You think the kid can tell?" That I'm loosing my grip?
That I'm terrified of the monsters under the bed?
I'm immobilized by my own mind like a car tire boot on my will to try.
Wish someone would tow me off to oblivion.
Or at least a place I could relax.
I'd modestly ask for just a few moments escape.
From all these walls

How many times will this wheel spin
Create the weave alike to cave in
You shoulda known I’d be filled out, made to be put out, sought out
I shoulda known to practice a reserved attitude
Reckless in approach
And at this point
I’m playing with the fire
It’s dying like a roach
Through with this burning ****
When you ain’t even worth a spit
I gotta call it quits
I don’t take or put up fits
I just do it for the kicks
Kick in the ice and freeze © Jessica Stull

There are two kinds of people in this world, the kind that get everything they’ve ever wanted and the kind that work hard and live in the dark
I’m feeling loneliest at most
Yep this definitely is depressing, watching cars go by and by
And yet there you are stuck in the same situation as always
Eves dropping, joining into conversations you’re not welcome to
Sipping on a martini, oh no you shouldn’t though, you gotta drive
Home
To where you feel the most emptiest inside

i don't really ever feel like this
but i'm here and i feel present
and i'm glad

Sometimes lungs take air for granted
Same with skin, only sun
I suppose pain has turned me bitter
Still bleed though fighting is done.

Heal from the inside out
Help find myself buried deep in the ground
Life has lost significant meaning
My eyes not picking up beauty around.

Everyone waiting for me to return
To the former friend known before
What they don't realize is that girl
Does not live inside me anymore.

Back in summers of naive wonder
Woke up with a smile on my face
Not happy for more than an instant
That spark vanished, is tough to replace.

Taking day by day too hard
Wonder when things will change
Focused on gratitude every step of my journey
Yet happiness is always out of range.

Working myself to live a life
Impactful and without fear
Fufillment seems so far out of reach
With every "Thank you" becomes more near.