I wrote this during a PD last week and liked it. There’s a few different versions, but here’s how to write your own bio poem. If you write one, be sure to comment or tag me so I can see!
BioPoem -a poem-
Tag Archives: poetry
Self-Love -a poem-
Poetry is an expression
of emotion –
words specifically chosen,
and Danielle, your self-hate has created
a sense of being broken,
your happiness stolen,
an everyday internal implosion;
a hole you can’t claw out of –
all because you’ve lost your self-love.
Outlet -a poem-
The car-
a space to scream:
freedom to express emotions
weighing me down every damn day.
Therapy-
a paid person to talk to:
a judgement free safe space,
faced with a fresh perspective.
Social media-
A chance to forget:
forced you to find something positive;
we share a glimpse to create a narrative.
Journal-
a place to write:
journals don’t judge, paper doesn’t poke
until you break, desperate for happiness.
Words.
We all need a place
where we can use our words
to freely feel our feelings.
In this society where we’re expected
to fake it til we make it,
what happens when you can’t?
Max capacity,
living unhappily
until we deal with it drastically:
a temporary problem
solved with a permanent solution.
I’m Sorry -a poem-
I’m sorry
for venting
when you wanted quiet.
I’m sorry
for crying
instead of just being silent.
I’m sorry
for thinking
I had your shoulder to lean on.
I’m sorry
for relying
on the vows we agreed on.
I’m sorry
for asking
you to feel some emotion.
I’m sorry
for hoping
you’d have a solution.
I’ll just go back to keeping to myself
now that I know you don’t want to help.
Social Media -a poem-
I’m taking a break from fake –
I mean – Facebook.
It is fake though,
full of smiling faces,
pictures of places people go
to escape what goes on behind the scenes.
We scroll mindlessly every night,
think of how good everyone else has it
while we sit and suffer
because our life sucks in comparison.
A couple in love,
a friend thriving in their career;
we think we want what they have
because we can’t see
the bickering,
the late nights,
the feeling of being alone,
the endless debt,
the texts from another lover,
the fear of losing it all with one mistake.
Social media makes us want
what we can’t have
when in reality,
no one has it in the first place.
We can’t base our feelings
on what we see online.
I’m not going to keep making this mistake.
I’m taking a fucking Facebook break.
are you doing okay? -a poem-
Are you doing okay?
What if I’m not?
What if it’s bad?
How much can I say?
It’s a mind game
I always have to play –
do they really want to know
if I’m having a bad day?
There’s nothing they can do for me anyway
because much to my dismay –
no, I’m not doing okay.
when was the last time you were happy? -a poem-
When the students weren’t the only ones
taking home new knowledge everyday.
When he brought home a candy bar
from the gas station
even though I said, “nah I’m good.”
When I didn’t rely on others
to validate me, affirm me –
because I knew what I was doing
was my best and it was good enough –
great, even.
When I stopped sabotaging myself,
selling myself short,
stuck on the worst case scenario,
always wondering when it would all fall
apart – as though I was just summoning
those bad vibes to join me in bed
every damn night until they took control
and now –
happiness is just a memory.
stuffed to the basement
with everything else I forgot I needed.
2020: A Year of Self-Reflection
Even though I haven’t blogged regularly this year, I have had a post like this on my mind for the last week or so. I feel like I’ve spent many days of my Christmas vacation thinking about everything that has happened this year, for better or worse (mostly worse). 2020 was a hard year for everyone (my therapist reminds me weekly: “it’s not just you, Danielle”).
I actually spent some time yesterday rereading my journal (which I started regularly writing in in July). I had mentioned to my therapist I was afraid to read a lot of what was in there because it was so raw. There were a lot of emotions behind those entries…MY emotions. Rather, as she said (seriously how does she know everything), it gave me a chance to look back on all the challenges I pushed through this year and the progress I’ve made.
Continue readingPlease Listen -a poem-
“Please get on meds.”
“Do you need more attention?”
Never before
have I felt such rejection.
People I’ve leaned on
have made me feel so small.
Maybe I’d be better off
saying nothing at all.
Suffering in silence:
that’s the strong thing to do
in a society that thrives
on loudly judging you.
It feels like everyday
more energy is depleted
and honestly I feel
so sad and defeated.
Who do you call
when those who are closest
think it’s okay
to say things so atrocious?
Saying “that’s the meanest thing
you’ve ever said to me”
with tears on my face,
they still refuse to see
that I’m just in need
of someone to listen.
I never attempted
to ask for permission
to be anxious,
frustrated, sad, and depressed.
The lack of support
just makes me more stressed.
I’m falling farther down
than I ever have before.
I just don’t know how
I can do this anymore.
Good Enough -a poem-
What is good enough?
Who sets the bar?
How do we know how much,
how big, or how far?
If I create the line,
then where does it stop?
Because I have so much trouble
with needing to be on top.
I struggle with lowering
the expectations I have set,
and if I miss out on something,
I’ll be stuck with the regret.
Everyday I find myself
more and more stressed out.
Everyday I’m closer and closer
to a full breakdown.
I never feel I’m good enough
for all the praise I get,
but I’m recognizing more
that it’s a flaw in my mindset.
I have to find a goal
that I can strive to achieve,
then NOT move the bar up again.
Only then, will I believe:
I am good enough.
The Caffeinated Writer 