Category / Uncategorized

by introvertontheinternet

Browns CBD Patches

This review has taken me a lot longer than I thought it would. When I first agreed to do it I thought I would have it done in a week…two weeks tops. But certain things in my life have gotten in the way. In the past I was scared to talk about these things because I was judging and hating on myself but now I’m at a place where I NEED to be honest. I have been struggling with addiction to thc for the last four years and it pretty much destroyed my life. It really helped me numb out certain traumatic events but it also numbed out my personality. Not completely because I kept up a very well applied mask most of the time but very much mostly. I stopped talking to my friends and family, stopped reading and engaging in pretty much everything that I enjoyed before thc, except from tv. It also made me severely depressed, anxious and worsened my eating disorder-although I wasn’t fully aware of these effects until, in light of developing psychotic type symptoms, I had to stop. I stopped for two months over the summer and was starting to feel a lot more like myself. But then my friend invited me to a small gathering and we got drunk and smoked and I thought maybe I can smoke it, maybe I’ll be okay. But it sucked me back in and I found my OCD getting really, really bad again and I found myself withdrawing into myself like a hermit crab as the tide rushes towards it. And the darkness of these winter months plus the continuation of lockdown….everything mixed together, it’s been really fucking difficult. I’m five days sober now, I really hope it continues.

Your probably wondering why I’m telling you this.

I’m telling you this because, without CBD I wouldn’t have been able to make it through the last few years. I’m pretty sure that I wouldn’t even be here today had I not found CBD two and half years ago. I’m telling you this because I want you to know how much of a real difference CBD has made to my life, how much it has really had a massively positive impact on my life. How it has helped me way more than any psychiatric and pharmaceutical pain relief has ever helped.

I wish I could share with every single person in the world how much it has helped me and I wish I could help them help themselves with CBD. Unfortunately it would extremely difficult to reach such a wide audience, as the whole planet, so I’ll just have to be content with however many people read this and hope upon hope that it helps at least one person.

I’ve been using CBD in some form or another for the last 2 and a half years now and recently Browns CBD reached out to me to do a review of their patches. I’ve tried other patches from other companies before and they’ve also been good but Brown’s have been the best I’ve tried that work by head on targeting my pain.

by introvertontheinternet

Time

Time doesn’t stop for anyone.

Not you, not me, not your loved ones.

You can take certain substances that might change the way you perceive it but it won’t stop.

There are many uncertainties in life, many unanswered questions.

So many things that we don’t know, the things we do being somewhat incomprehensible in and of themselves.

Time doesn’t stop for anyone and we’re all going to die.

When I was 13 I started to get depressed about time, so much so that I missed out on a lot (of time) because of it. I was doing a drama summer school and I think I was due to go into 3rd year in the coming August. I remember we were doing our morning warm-up and as I was turning round~I’m not sure what we were doing~it suddenly struck me about, time. I was going to be 14 in the new school year and I suddenly wondered, ‘where has the time gone? How did I get here?

I know how I physically got to the class that morning.

But not how had I travelled through time so quickly, how had the years flown by so fast?

It seemed like one minute I’d been a child and then suddenly I was going into my first “serious” year of high school, reflecting in that moment.

That was when I started getting depressed about time moving too fast, I remember asking loads of people~family members~about how they experienced time.

Does it keep getting faster? Yes.

Well, maybe it doesn’t actually go faster but you perceive it as going faster as you age.

Perhaps not everyone perceives it that way but many do.

I think its perhaps repetition, that makes it seem faster.

Doing the same things over and over again: the same occupation every day, the same route to and from, the same hobbies, clubs.

I’m gonna stop with the above subject for now as, if I think about it too much it starts to fuck with my head. I end up spiralling and getting stuck beneath the infinite cascading waves of thought, and depression.

I will say though that ever since then, the depression lasted a lot longer than the aforementioned catalyst thought, I have been very analytical about how I perceive life. I’ve always been very analytical but this made me more so. I also think that perhaps I think too much, which has been bad for me mentally but I think that it might help me to do well for myself. I also have a lot more ways to cope with the bad side of things-spiraling-than I used to, when I was younger, which is a definite game-changer.

{Update:

You as the reader, are probably wondering wtf I’m jabbering on about and all I can say is that I was amidst the crimson waves and feeling very emotional and reflective. I was having a wee blub to myself, thinking about how far I’ve come in life. I used to get so depressed and stressed out about time passing by, I was so scared that one day I’d look up and my memories-or any pictures I had-would be the only proof that I’d lived. That I’d go from 14 to 50 in the blink of an eye, having done nothing with my life because I was too depressed and scared of everything. It’s taken me a while but I can now say that I’m okay with time passing by. It only feels like it passes by in the blink of an eye in retrospect. Looking back, you won’t remember everything…you’ll remember key events…things that stuck in your mind. Those things will condense down and everything will seem like it’s sort of wooshed by. But at the same time, every experience, every home, every old friend or acquaintance will feel lifetimes ago. When you learn to live in the moment, the passage of time, no matter it’s speed doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. I think I secretly wanted time to go by faster when I was younger, I wanted it to go by faster so that I could grow up, leave school and home and be me without other peoples judgments. I also wanted to be accepted for me. It’s taken a while to get here but in the last year, I’ve been more me than I have been in a long time. I started practicing mindfulness techniques, around a year ago in order to try and enhance my experience and lucidity whilst dreaming, and I’ve found that they’ve also really helped me to live more in the moment. You might know a bit about mindfulness, if you don’t, I basically do things like, if I’m walking through town, I look at things around me. I observe and notice things around me, look at them, like really look at them, think of its colours, what it’s made of, how old it is, it’s history. From looking up from my phone and looking at the world around me, I’ve noticed things like…..how beautiful the buildings in Glasgow (town) are, some of them have pillars like they were built in Roman times-probably not but one likes to imagine-and others have gorgeous Edwardian style roofs and balconies. Becoming consciously aware of things you can see, hear, feel, smell and taste. In becoming more mindful of my human experience and the environment around me, I have spent less and less time on social media, my phone and subsequently, the internet. Spending less time online has helped me to get back in touch with things I used to enjoy when I was younger-like reading and drawing-before everyone had a computer in their pocket that they were constantly lost in. By simply spending less time online-it wasn’t simple at all, it took a lot of time and reflection-and doing things I enjoy and finding a purpose, I feel like I’ve grown to be at peace with the passage of time. I lost someone very important to me at the end of last year and it broke my heart, I felt powerless. There was nothing I could do, I couldn’t bring them back. As much as it still hurts me today. that loss has helped me to understand and be more at peace with the cycle of life. Time doesn’t stop for anyone and we’re all going to die but that’s just the way life works. People die every day but people are also born every day. Time will go by and I’ll grow old and I’ll die one day but that’s just the way life is. Nobody can live forever, even if one could, you would lose a lot more than your mortality. I’ll probably learn and experience enough that by the time the time comes I’ll be accepting of death, like it’s okay, I’m ready to move on now…ready to experience whatever’s next. What I’m getting at here, is that I’ve accepted that time is just a part of life, a very important part but still simply a cog in the machine of life. By dwelling in it and not accepting it, I caused the machine to malfunction but by accepting it, things are running a lot more smoothly. 02/07/2019}

******

It’s that time~haha~ of the month again….I feel like shit, I can’t stop crying and~the delightful cherry on top~my ovaries feel like they’re slowly working there way up the inside of my body to strangle me from the inside-out. It’s also fucking boiling but the sky looks like it’s got a storm a-brewin’.

I feel like death.

I hope y’all are having a wonderful, hopefully not horrendously humid (Satur)day!

by introvertontheinternet

My Voice

*TRIGGER WARNING*

This blogpost contains content that some readers may find triggering or distressing. Only read if you feel able cope the subject matter of sexual based trauma.

I wrote this last night when I was drunk, quite a running theme for when I write emotional poetry…the only time I can write about bad stuff that’s happened…which probably isn’t great.

Anyhoo….here it is:

Please don’t talk to me,

Please talk to me,

I’m sorry I’m not here,

I checked out a while ago.

I always want to talk to people,

but I can’t.

I feel that when the bad thing happened,

his dick stole my voice,

stole an essential part of my soul.

Lots of terrible things happened before that,

but after that,

that one particular night,

2 hours to be exact,

I couldn’t find it within myself to talk,

to even look at others.

It’s like,

everything that happened just took over,

became an unbudging boulder,

over everything.

Leaving only a half-assed attempt mask of who I was before.

Thankfully most people can’t see through it,

Can’t see how truly destroyed I am.

How much I’m not really here.

******

This poem is about rape and about how he took so much more than my dignity. I feel like my dignity was somewhat easier to get back….I think. This is really difficult to write (talk) about.

I think people think that I’m being rude when I don’t talk to them or run away from them when they try to speak to me but that’s really not the case…I get afraid…terrified that people can see how much pain I’m in. I also can’t socialise the way I used to anymore, I can’t strike up casual conversation, I can’t joke around and laugh at trivial things anymore, I’m afraid that people can see how awkward and different I am now. I don’t like meeting up with people I knew before because I think they can sense that I’m not the same and I want to be the person that they knew but I’m really not. I also used to be really good at making new friends, starting up conversations from nowhere but even that’s harder than making cheese out of playdough. A lot of the time I also just don’t have anything to say, like all my words, my ability to make words has been taken away, sucked into an endless unforgiving vacuum. The effort it takes to try and pretend that the worst thing that could have possibly happened didn’t indeed happen is astronomically tiring. It makes me want to spend all my time alone because then I don’t have to speak, don’t have to put on an act, I can just breathe and be me. Me who is now very quiet.

(I feel I should add this; CBD oil has helped me deal with these issues quite a bit and I’m on a journey to getting my good auld sociable self back but it’s still really difficult and I’ve got a really long way to go. I can, at the very least, say that I am trying and I try to take each day as it comes. I guess all you can do is try and hopefully one day you’ll get to your destination.

I’m also still able to talk to close friends, some family members, and a few workers, which I’m very thankful for but I can’t go through my whole life being mute around everyone else, especially when I’d love to talk to everyone.)

I don’t know if any of this makes sense but I know that nobody really reads this so I guess it doesn’t have to make sense. I guess I’m using this as a coping mechanism and nobody else has to view it for it to work for me.

I wish I could share this with more people but I feel so up my own arse sharing the link, like I think it’s great and I’m proud of myself for being able to write about stuff but I think/worry that I’m oversharing and people just want me to shut the fuck up. 

I hope that anyone who reads this enjoys it and has a wonderful day. 🙂

by introvertontheinternet

I’m Sorry

I wish I could go and visit you.

I’m sorry for all the times that I didn’t.

I was scared because you were ill,

I was scared.

So scared that you were going to die that I couldn’t even see you.

Pathetic.

If I could go back in time,

I’d come see you every day.

I’d make sure that you knew I loved you,

that we got to spend time together.

Instead of sitting,

getting stoned,

trying to pretend it wasn’t happening.

Trying to kill my own pain,

rather than putting my time to good use,

by spending time with you,

cherishing the time of a clock that was about to stop. 

I’m sorry Granny,

I’m sorry for not visiting you,

until the almost end.

Without you,

I feel like there’s no point in anything,

no point in getting up

unless I’m making you proud.

On the days that I’m not at college,

working towards my goal,

I feel nothing but 

sadness, 

guilt, 

shame,

that I’m not doing enough,

to be the best I can be.

I want to be the best for me,

but I also want to be the best for you.

I want to make you proud,

but I also want to make me proud.

I just want to be the best I can be.

The best friend, daughter, sister.

The best I can be.

******

I wrote this the other night when I was, for lack of a better term, mwi. Obviously, there’s a little bit of exaggeration but I do feel on the days that I’m not really doing anything that I’m wasting time…time that I could be using to create or work towards my career goals. I do have good days and they’re happening more often but I also have bad days and weeks but I guess it’s all part of the journey that is life.

I hope you enjoy reading it.

I hope y’all are having a wonderful Thursday 😊

by introvertontheinternet

Grief

Grief is like an ocean,

one minute your surfing its waves,

sun shining down,

a melancholy sadness

hangs in the air.

You remember all the times you spent together,

whether good or bad.

It’s sad and it’s painful,

but you accept that death is part of life.

Grief feels heavy.

Heavy like your wearing a suit made of rocks.

A suit made of rocks, a boulder at your heart

 of random memories,

the next,

your drowning,

being dragged down by rocks

your weeping into your coffee,

drowning in an ocean.

******

This poem doesn’t necessarily make sense but neither does grief.  

23/01/19

by introvertontheinternet

Got my laptop fixed. Woohoo!

Today I got my laptop back after it being broken for about a month or so….praise hallelujah I’ve got my electric baby back.

~My cat is my real, non-electric, baby ❤🐈~

When I dropped my phone in a bucket of bleach and it was fucked for a couple of days (until it worked the power of resurrection on itself), I was a wee bit bummed out about it but I wasn’t really that bothered. It was more of a blessing than a bummer kinda thing. But when my laptop suddenly died mid rapid research/netflix binge, I was absolutely fucking devastated. Although I didn’t actually take it into the shop until last week~due to anxiety but more on that later~the time spent without it has been, for lack of a better word, dire. Absolutely fucking dire. I know I could’ve spent my time reading or drawing or being creatively productive in some form-I did a bit-, but there’s just something about writing (and publishing, now) that I find life extremely boring without. I did put a few posts to paper but it’s just not the same…I like being able to share my work. Even if only 1 or 2 people, or even if nobody reads this, I like seeing my work, on my blog, for my own benefit. It makes me feel so proud that I’m managing to get my words out, managing to share my voice after so long of feeling trapped by anxiety. Anxiety is an on-going struggle for me but I’m taking steps to combat it; this blog being one. 

by introvertontheinternet

Christmas Day

Starting off Christmas with some lovely, kind words, my brother just told me that I’m “the biggest retard” he knows. He’s so kind.

You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you about that and it’s because, for the first time, perhaps ever~or at least in a while~…I am not hurt by his words. In fact, they flew right over my head….into the bin where they belong.

In the past when he’s said shit like the aforementioned, I’ve either been in tears or ready to decapitate him but right now I can confidently say that I don’t give a shit. He can say what he wants about me, he can use any manner of disgusting words to describe me but they can’t and won’t hurt me anymore. I have evolved and developed the ultimate bullshit shield.

******

On a lighter note…I wrote a Christmas poem. I think it really pinpoints the highlight incident of my Christmas:

Christmas Poem

Merry Christmas,

I got soup in my eye,

Now I want to die.

******

As you can probably tell, this is from Christmas. I was gonna post this then but everything got very overwhelming and I could barely deal with it, let alone type it. So, I’m posting it now cause I really like my poem and I think it would be a shame not to share it….even though y’all probably think it’s shit, I like it~also, my friend said that she likes it too. 

Merry belated Christmas & Happy belated New Year peeps! 

I hate Christmas~mostly just Capitalism but that’s basically all Christmas is nowadays~with a fucking passion but if you like it, I hope you had a good one. 

by introvertontheinternet

Simple Task

Do you ever have those days when you think you have it together?

Like you’ve planned out your outfit and exactly what you’re going to do?

And then you realise that you don’t have any clothes cause despite having put clothes in the washing machine you haven’t actually turned it on in weeks?

And you think to yourself, why the fuck is it so difficult for you to complete a simple task?

You think…I can do this.

It’s easy.

You go back to the machine, cause at this point you’ve walked away.

You approach it.

*SIGH*

It’s okay.

It’s a simple task.

You take a quick glance at the basket.

It’s piled high with clothes.

Not literally.

It should be though…

With the amount on the chair in your room.

You’re practically drowning in dirty clothes.

You only need to wash them and sort them.

It’s a simple task.

Just wash them and sort them.

Sort them into separate piles.

Keep and pass on.

It’s not that hard.

Just get it done.

It’s a simple task.

******

I dunno if this is a poem or what but I wrote it the other day when I was feeling especially stressed out. Since then, I’ve done some of my washing…..mostly pants-but it still feels like I’ve got a mountain to conquer. And conquer, I will. Hopefully.

I hope y’all are having a wonderful worry-free Tuesday! 😊

by introvertontheinternet

Ocean Youth Trust Adventure

A couple of months ago, on the week beginning the 24th of September, I started a week-long voyage with Ocean Youth Trust Scotland, as part of a trip with LGBT Youth Scotland.

Initially, going into it, I didn’t really have any expectations.

On signing up, to go, I hadn’t really thought about it as anything other than an escape from the particular strain of shit life was throwing at me at the time. I didn’t even know when it was. The minute I heard “boat trip to the middle of nowhere with possible confidence building exercises”~this is not a direct quote, this is just my translation~I was on board……haha.

I had some hopes for the week but nothing I’d really call an expectation.

One hope that I had, was that I’d be able to manage the whole week without smoking any weed. And I did in a sense, I smoked before I left and when I got back but I managed sobriety for the majority of the week~the ban on drugs and alcohol helped greatly. And I enjoyed it.

For a really long time, I’ve been using weed to block out/cope with trauma and it got to the point where I couldn’t do anything or go anywhere without smoking up. It was the only thing keeping me going, the only thing keeping me from drowning amidst the tidal waves of continues shit. My lifeline as it were but also my downfall, as most people will find, too much of something no matter how much it helps, is not good. I was starting to see that the amount I was smoking was holding me back and I seriously needed to reevaluate my life choices. I needed to go away for a while, without access to my stuff and have a really good think about everything.

When the voyage came up, it was the perfect opportunity.

On the first day, the 24th, I had to arrive at Central station at 12:15 to get the train to Greenock where the boat was docked. I think I was running off schedule and getting into a bit of a tizzy but made it with a good 5 minutes to spare. The journey was slightly awkward for me, I felt like everyone else quickly relaxed into the banter and I was just sitting in anxious silence as per usual. When we arrived, we walked down to the docks where we met the Alba Explorer and her crew for the first time. The Alba Explorer is a beautiful big racing yacht built for upwind sailing races around the world, a truly epic boat if ever you saw one.

Once aboard, we were straight down to business, jumping into the icebreakers.

I don’t remember much from the rest of the first day, apart from crying myself to sleep and ~this is a direct quote from my logbook~” considering learning how to sail properly, buying a boat and fleeing society”. Clearly, despite having successfully pulled off my mission of escaping, my mind was still stuck on it. We also learned how to work the winches but I don’t think I actually took any of the information in…I definitely didn’t….this became very apparent the following day.

~We were read a bedtime story that night, by one of the crew, Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, which was really nice but really set the tears in motion because it reminded me of getting bedtime stories when I was wee and of how much I missed those times.~

The next day, day 2, started off fairly shit with me realising that the period from hell had hit. Literally. It was an absolute bloodbath. It was like all the periods that I’ve ever missed all decided it was time to show face and fuck me over. BOOM BITCH! TIME FOR YOUR RECKONING!

I’m also pretty sure that I gave myself multiple concussions due to the low ceilings and very hard trap door/window thing that we had to slide open to get out on deck, that I kept forgetting was there.

To top everything off, after building myself up with Ibuprofen, CBD oil, and herbal tea and thinking I’d be okay, the minute I stood on deck the whitey hit. Like a fucking train. I felt like I was about to die. It was a very windy day, in the middle of the sea, on a boat that purposely sails into the wind…like a giant windsurfer. This boat was choppy as fuck, to say the least. Everyone kept telling me to “look at the horizon and you’ll feel better” but no, did I fuck.

Because of my sickness and general feeling of all-out death, I decided to take some time out and go for a nap. Which helped greatly. It was like magic how much it helped.

Praise Hallelujah for naps! Am I right or am I right?

Later, feeling slightly rejuvenated, me and my group were on boardwatch; practicing knots, working the winches, steering the boat and making sure that the boat doesn’t crash. For a bit, I sat and practiced tying different knots-half-knots and bowline-pretty boring stuff in my opinion. Then I got to steer the boat, which I absolutely loved despite my fears that I would accidentally crash the boat and kill everyone on board, as well as destroying a masterpiece of the seas.

By the 3rd day, I was starting to feel a bit more comfortable in my environment and around everyone on board. I still felt quite uncomfortable around some of the men in the crew but this was kind of expected and unavoidable, I just had to ignore my fears and try not to freak out.

On this morning, after breakfast, we were hit with the concept of ‘Happy Hour’…which isn’t what you think it is. In fact, it’s the complete opposite……it’s cleaning. My first job as part of ‘Happy Hour’-said, dripping with sarcasm-was to clean what was known as the ‘heads’, in other words, the toilet. It was shite….pun not intended. I don’t mind cleaning my own toilet, when I have the motivation, but cleaning a toilet that about 15 other people have used…..no thanks. I did it anyways because despite my hatred of the task, its always better to just get it done rather than to give up.

After ‘Happy Hour’, me and the rest of the people from LGBT were allowed to go into Tarbert, where we docked, for an hour to have a wee wander around or a cup of tea. There were 5 of us, ‘young people’, so we decided to walk down together and check out what the wee town had to offer. It was a quaint wee town with a cute wee line of cafes and local shops, a bank and a co-op and castle ruins that you could walk up to. After picking up a few things from the co-op, we decided to have some tea in a lovely wee cafe we found. During this time we started to talk a bit more and add each other on social media, a norm among ‘young people’. Since we had our phones taken away from us at the beginning of the journey so that we would all be present, we spent some of the time checking our various social media platforms. On leaving the cafe, me and my friend decided to pick up some travel sickness tablets because fuck feeling that sickness again. Of course, as usual, I was late back to the boat…only by a few minutes but late all the same.

I hate being late…despite my tendency to usually be so.

Once we were all on the boat, after meeting two of the youth workers halfway down the boardwalk and taking a few photos~which I might upload at some point…..once I figure out how to download my photos without getting duplicates lol. The 3rd day was a pretty good day, as now armed with my seasickness tablets, I was feeling a lot better. Again, I don’t remember much of it~due to the passage of time~but of what I do…I remember that we were sailing to Rothesay and that it was a nice, if not slightly temperamental day. ~A paradox I know but that kinda shit happens at sea~ I remember working the winches and building my confidence with them and I can honestly say that if someone put one in front of me right now, it’d be really weird but I’d be able to do it no bother with only slight prompting.

That night we anchored in Rothesay Bay, about 2 or 3 full sized football pitches away from land~a terrible way to measure distance but fuck it~with a beautiful view of the island-I think I might have pictures of this too. Before going to bed we were told that we’d all be doing anchor watch shifts of 2 hours or so in pairs but luckily mine wasn’t until 6am. I had to get up at 6am…fair to say I wasn’t really looking forward to that aspect…

After finally getting to sleep at about 4am, getting up 2 hours later was brutal. On waking, I felt like I’d only just gotten warm and that I’d only been asleep for about 10 minutes. One of those nights. ~Ahhhhhhhhh! *Sigh*~

Once I’d pulled myself free from the, only just, pleasant confines of my sleeping bag, I was straight onto anchor watch duty…which I surprised myself by really enjoying. Anchor watch happens when the boat is anchored rather than docked and one or two of the crew have to keep an eye on and take note of the wind speeds, water depth and the degree of the offset; the angle of which the vessel is sitting at. This was a fairly simple task as we only had to check the monitors every 5 minutes-within an hour-and take note, making sure that nothing was going into critical levels and staying there.

During this, we were given the task of creating a story. Everyone who was on watch had the opportunity to contribute by adding a few lines or pages in, which was certainly the case for me, whenever they were on. As you can imagine, the end result was interesting. It started off as a pretty average funny story related to sailing and the like, slightly confusing but nothing too weird and then I decided to dump my imagination on it….putting it onto a slightly weird but fun twist. I feel like I’m kinda tooting my own horn here but I was quite proud of my contribution. I thought we all did a really good job, if I can find it (and ask everyone’s permission) I think I’ll post it here.

After sharing our work with the rest of the crew over breakfast, which me and my partner made, we got stuck straight into setting sail to Greenock, where the voyage would conclude. The rest of the journey was pretty much the same as the previous days; I spent time practicing and mastering the knots~which I can’t actually remember but that’s probably for the best~working the winches and steering the boat. I also spent time getting to know people too but due to my having an anxious pea brain, I can’t really remember this either.

All in all, I would highly recommend going on a voyage or volunteering with Ocean Youth Scotland…no matter where you’re at, it’s a really fun and educationally enriching experience.

I found that it helped me greatly in terms of my mental health and my general outlook on life. I also love the sea; I like looking to see if I can see any mermaids beneath the turquoise tides.

******

I hope y’all enjoyed reading about my experience 🙂

I’m so thankful that I’ve finally gotten it done after so much worry about it not being good enough…now all I need to do it edit out the not so family friendly stuff and get it sent off to the right peeps…shouldn’t be too hard~wish me luck anyways though? Cause there’s always the chance that I could fuck it up.

I hope y’all are having a fabulous night, morning, day and evening! 🙂

by introvertontheinternet

Depression: A Poem

At first, it crawls up your spine,

like a bone-chilling breeze.

Then, it crashes over your head,

a tidal wave made of bricks,

it snaps your neck.

Leaves you broken and bleeding.

But not dead.

Not yet.

There are people all around,

it’s just a normal day.

They can’t see the devastation,

they can’t see the wreck.

You don’t look any different,

your just the same.

It seems.

******

I wrote this last year but I felt like sharing it today because why not? 

I’ve got quite a few poems that I’ve written and have always wanted to share, so what better way than this.

Prepare yerselves fer some emotional poetry!

I hope y’all are well and are having a lovely night, morning, day and evening! 🙂