Poetry Friday: Average Grace

Average Grace Fingers pinch at the tips nerves scream nails scrape across rough wires voice strains on highs and lows muscles stiffen and burn neck aches no one I can see can hear me but my pain brings a circle of ghosts drawn to the history I share through song

Poetry Friday: 11:42 p.m.

11:42 p.m. You think you’re fed up with all these late-night haiku? Try writing them, pal.

amidst ashes: surviving suicide

I wrote this piece for Young Mormon Feminists but it totally applies to y’all, my original readers. Much love!

Young Mormon Feminists

In recognition of September being National Suicide Prevention Month

Last year I got this close to killing myself, but I survived.

It hurts to talk, to think about the experience. I went to BYU for a semester and within a few months I was severely depressed—on the brink of suicide. My lifelong perfectionism had finally caught up with me, and it was tightening around my neck in an invisible noose. They were dark times, endless days of pain I can’t even put into words. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to wake up. There was no rest for my soul; not in prayer, in conversation, in closeness. An untouchable emptiness inside me itched constantly. I got headaches from clenching my teeth from anxiety. I moved through the days with a constant wish that a car would flatten me.

I made feeble attempts to live, one of which was joining a BYU therapy…

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Poetry Friday: White Ribbons

White Ribbons The white house on the corner, with lavender blooms tracing the fence till fall, where the little girl had worn her hair up, hiding behind her sharpened pencil. Worn her hair up, blonde curls in white ribbons. Molly read her fairytales in the treetops, dreaming of walnuts, and castles, and red trolleys. Sunlight … Continue reading Poetry Friday: White Ribbons

Getting Doodley

(Hey, y'all, I wanted to try this form of blogging. It's probably a one-time thing.) I call myself Maney and I like to write. I'm learning guitar, I love ice cream, and sea otters are my favorite animals. I doodle so much it's not even funny. During school, during church, in my journal, etc. So … Continue reading Getting Doodley

Poetry Friday: Caught Staring

Caught Staring An umbrella leans against a fence, staring at my bus on the road.