Oceanaic Evergreens

​You broke into laughter when you saw me that day because you said I was darker than the bottom of the ocean

And scarier than what inhabits it
I looked over your shoulder whilst you looking over mine

And for one second, I could have sworn I saw the devil shaking your eyes

But when I asked you, you shed a new layer and then another and another

Until you unraveled on the floor like a kick to a ball of yarn
I got a shovel and scooped you into a pale, dumped the contents into my hair and rubbed your embers on my face

Because atleast then, I knew you were vulnerable

Atleast then, I knew you couldn’t walk away
Soaking you in like a ray of light

Basking in your evergreens and your forevers
I found a new home that day

Not in you

But through you

Knifed Witch

There I was, atleast I think it was me, I was standing somewhere I don’t recall ever being to before.

This woman, she looked awfully familiar as though I knew her outside of the character she presented as on the television, was there.

She made me do things for her, as though I was her personal slave and I think other people were used up and thrown away by her. Having their loving versions of them stripped away with every bleeding stroke placed upon by this woman.

So here I was, listening to her every command. She told me to clean the walls of this place, building? I have no idea, it could have just been a free wall for all I knew.

I remember using this long standing pole that extended long ways above my head with a knife attached to it underneath a light bluish-turqiouseish cleaning cloth.

Scrubbing, moving along the wall, up and down like the person she tried to make me into.

Eventually this girl came along, stopped by to see what we were doing. What I was doing. She had a nose ring and I remember telling her that she was pretty, but it was as though I wasn’t there.

Invisible like I had felt for years. Non- existent to those who didn’t expect anything from me.

I looked at the woman and I don’t remember what she said to me, but it appeared as thiugh she was angry at me for stopping what I was doing and then all of a sudden, this baby appeared.

Whether the baby was there the entire time or not, I had no idea. So I picked the baby up and started talking with them. I remember feeling frightened by their movements as though it was about to bite me every time it loomed and fell forward into my chest.

That’s all I remember and they say that dreams usually mean something.

Maybe it’s that I’ve felt invisible because I stopped caring about people and I let people walk on me and I only repeated what they did to me to people.

When the bullied became the bullier.

I came across a post on Tumblr by a blog that encouraged it’s followers to write a story starting off with or to contain the sentence ” Of course I was hurt the entire time. I just didn’t say anything. “

So I decided to share mine with my followers and people in general on here.

When the bullied became the bullier.

Of course I was hurt the whole time. I just didn’t say anything.

I had a hard time speaking up and using my voice. It was almost as though I hadn’t found a voice of my own that wasn’t shaky and half silent, half vocal.

They would taunt and tease me almost every single day.

You’re not feminine enough. Are you a boy or a girl? You write like a man. You’re in the wrong washroom, this is the girl’s.

Prior to being bullied regarding my gender identity, I had repeated grade 3 and that’s when it started. Before being called names and being made fun of, my biggest worry regarded getting home late after an after school activity and missing my favourite show on the television. I knew what bullying was, but I had never really been a victum of it before, or not to my awareness.

Can I do the same work as everyone else? I asked my grade 6 teacher. No you can’t.

No you can’t. 

Shot down by one of the school’s teachers. Just because I had a hard time with the work that the majority of other students my own age had been given.

Up until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t realized that being told that I couldn’t do something that other people could do, actually became the root of a few major incidents in my life. The root cause of many issues.

For years, I let people step over me, trample on me as though I almost wasn’t there. Treated as though my very presence was minor instead of influential.

Finally out of nowhere, my voice was found and it was being heard, but not listened to. Muffled by the gossip that flooded the halls, drowned out underneath the sea of fake friends and victumizers.

It was then that I became the bullier.

I stopped allowing people to treat me like a broken piece of glass. Word escaped my mouth that I wouldn’t dared to have spilt out prior. I stopped feeling bad for what I had thrown at others. Eventually, the feeling of power flooded through my veins and not just through my head.

Mind games. Torment. Emotional torture.

Eventually that’s what I put everyone through who crossed my paths, who showed any interest in me. I barely trusted anyone, so testing people became second nature to me after a while because it was easier to let people have my wrath, than for me to trust them right off the bat and have it gone to waste.

Balance finding.

Although I’ve been hurt, and hurt others, I’m trying harder to find a balance between trusting and not being too vulnerable. So far, it’s becoming less difficult.

Change can change people.

It’s amazing how much can happen in a year, two years or even a few months.

I’ve pushed so many people away, mostly good. I’ve gone back to the people who brought nothing but toxicity upon my chest and left those that actually meant something to me. I didn’t realize it until they were gone.

Recently, I had got into an argument with one of my sisters whom which was my best friend. They overreacted in response to something, but so did I because I realized that I no longer could handle being near them.

Mostly because I felt like I was only staying in her life because I was reliving my teenage years through her and we were too alike and I had to move forward and grow up.

As much as I miss them at times, I’m still a bit less overwhelmed. Someone else is still haunting me from my past. I’ve done some things I regret, but I’m still trying to change my ways and I have but they refuse to believe that I can change.

Honestly, as much as I’m still the same person, as much as the time I still spend indulging in some old habits, therapy has been helping me.

I used to avoid therapy like the black plague. I gave myself reasons not to go. 5 sessions in with my new therapist and I feel better, not the best I cam be because whether I had years of issues or not, it’s still going to take time to figure my life out. Especially if I want to transition or not.

By I’m farther than I was and it’s okay to take steps backwards as long as I keep going forward. Which I’m trying to.

Alone is okay.

When you’re a kid, sometimes other children may poke fun at you because they see you sitting by the wall alone while they are playing on the playground. You just want to play by yourself or even sing songs to yourself.

When you’re a teenager, other teens calls you boring because you don’t want to drink underage or even in general and you’d rather stay inside on a friday night watching your favourite movie, rather than go to house parties or clubs with your friends. Being around people either brings you anxiety or you just prefer to spend time alone with your own thoughts.

When you’re an adult, many other adults will notice that you can barely keep a job long enough to even say that you’ve had a job or you don’t have a partner so you won’t most likely won’t find one in a long time. Maybe it’s just hard for you to be around people or even animals for some, maybe depression makes its’ way into your head and drags you down and makes it harder for you to make it out of the house for even as something simple as a coffee.

Regardless, it’s okay to have mental illnesses. They don’t define you. It’s also okay to prefer to be alone. Sometimes for some people, being alone is more beneficial for them than conversing with someone else.

Verbal Mentality

You heard that I had tried                                                                                                                                                                                            to do myself in                                                                                                                                                                             go under the waves                                                                                                                                                                     allow them to swallow me as a whole

So you waited until the perfect time                                                                                                                                             told me of your past relationship with the devil himself                                                                                                             insisting that every step society has thought of to help recover one’s passion                                                                         for life is not tailored for each and every individual

Advice is what you sought out to give me                                                                                                                                  although you gave me your experience                                                                                                                                      that is one thing you can’t take away from someone

Continuing the conversation between drifted off day dreaming you mentioned                                                                     that if I go to see a professional                                                                                                                                        whether they be a psychiatrist or therapist and I become agitated                                                                                           at said person that they aren’t there to be my friend or to even                                                                                        purposely hurt me                                                                                                                                                                      that the reason I may have become agitated may                                                                                                                    be because those words were the truth and the truth kills

So on I went listening                                                                                                                                                            Sitting there                                                                                                                                                                        Actually paying attention to the words being verbally spewed                                                                                                then I hear the next sentence

You have to ask yourself, he said ” Do I really want to get better? ”                                                                                     Then you said that you were leaving that day to go somewhere                                                                                     suggested that I promise to give him an answer                                                                                                                        if I want him to help me or to continue                                                                                                                                  living in the darkened shadows that have become my life

I noticed you looking at me                                                                                                                                                          but as with anyone else                                                                                                                                                               I was too shy to look you in the eyes regardless what he said next                                                                                                                                                                                            I had no idea would ever exist to my ears once again until he worded them                                                                               ” Look at me, you’re a good person, you hate hearing that don’t you? Because you don’t believe that you’re a good person, but you are. ”

Thinking as it always comes naturally to me, set in and I had started putting in more effort with getting mental help after he had left and come back than I had in ages, maybe even years but it didn’t last long and here I am back to square one, starting to get therapy again

Soul Department

I constantly wear something, it doesn’t glow, but it doesn’t radiate light                                                                                         Call it a mask, but I’d rather refer to it as a piece of cloth that was ripped                                                                                  from my skin                                                                                                                                                                                   It appears smooth, when it is really scruffy on the outside

Underneath, crawling insecurities bleeding through, pushing onwards                                                                                       It’s been molded perfectly, as though someone knew what it would look like                                                                           before it was placed                                                                                                                                                                 ontop of my bones

Scraping is impossible, tearing it off is what people                                                                                                                 have been trying to do to reveal                                                                                                                                       something else

But what they want to see is what they already are seeing, they just don’t care to believe it                                                               So digging inside is what they attempt to do, clawing, scratching at the windows of a soulless body