Teeth-to-tongue, they
dig deeper than
love. they
search for blood, I'm
scratching for air,
coughing it up.
I'm tied to my tongue and
I'm tied up in words.
I'm wordy, worthless language
when I can't engage
my anxious tendencies
over a page.
"Don't drown in a sea
of wasted ink," I wrote
to self, as I rafted out
in search of calmer mind
knowing I may never be that.
I'm just a set of teeth.
"From bipolar disorder, to addictive personality, to a myriad of OCD, all in tandem with a fight against depression, characteristics of these illnesses have revealed themselves to be in parts of my own space, perhaps inherited. Only 23 years young, I have wrestled with such feelings that have gone without diagnosis for nearly a decade. Anxiety has always been there, standing over my shoulder, guiding me in whichever direction it chose.
Just a few days ago, I actively sought out help at a hospital after strong, vivid suicidal urges. Every single one of us should take a stand, and every single one of us should assist in spreading awareness and extending hands to help raise those who feel as if they can't take a stand. Personally, I want to break from thought patterns like what produced this piece. I want to wield how I am like a sword, use my experiences to relate, and to isolate myself no longer. This piece was written as a reflection back to where I was for years, albeit in the not-so-distant past.
Writing and music have always been points of serenity and decompression for me through tough times, and in this piece, I aimed to apply a sense of anxious rhythm to my stanzas, capturing the essence of how one can feel in between moments of anxiety. I had a habit, one that I hadn't caught onto until late last year, of biting into my tongue when under stress. Combining my anxiety with a lack of knowing what to say in said moments through the metaphor of writer's block, I've given you this written piece of poetry titled Wave of Teeth."
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