Posted in Personal Poetry Collection, Texas- Living with Parents

Seeking Solitude – Personal Poetry Collection

I was listening to music and watching videos about art when I wished I had the artistic ability to draw what I felt. Something like a balloon surrounded by cacti. Or a dark room pierced by pinpricks of blinding light. Then I remembered the art of written words: poetry. So I wrote this about relaxing on a hammock and having that peace incessantly interrupted by my parents and intruding thoughts of the past ending in my current struggle of finding my home. 


April 8, 2020

Seeking Solitude


Moments imagined, savored, and soothing

I forge, however flitting and farce it seems-

‘till two tutting awkward quavering people

appear to gawk, talk, and cluck. 


Face away, face away

feel the wind whisper “freedom” 

and you stay and you stay

within the heart of the storm.

Silence your mind, open your shut eyes

find your way, back to reality someday.

Feel your bones and body ache, but 

fight the urge to fly.


Tap! At the window or the door?

No, just the windows of my soul

trepid finger positioned recklessly–

tauntingly by my cheek. 

I can’t even squeak.

Taut smile, roll over–

Bump! Triumphant, thoughtless thumps

from that rump.


Back inside.

Wrapped in flimsy threads

Oh, remember being told you need meds?

Remember reaching out?

Then being told only a professional could clear your doubts.



I am not in that dark room 

there are not tears streaming down my face

there is no nasty text screaming at me.

It’s me.

It’s always been me.


I’m here, but should I be?

Who decides?

Doesn’t feel like me…


Just let me go. 

Let me frown and let me drown.

Because the air you use–

now all Co2–

turns me blue.



Please don’t stray!

I know I have no say…

and this to them is play

just, please tell me-

Should I stay?







Picture was likely taken by my cousin. You can see a 14 year old me in the bottom right.

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