The Tragedy of The Hangsley Twins: A Poem

You think that I don’t notice. You think that I don’t see. But there is nothing that I miss, of this disgusting mockery.

I see the way they leave your chambers, all disheveled and undone. I notice the time they spend there, and I wish I was the one.

You parade them all in front of me, and smirk and glance my way. I know it’s me your after, but I’ll never get my way.

The bruises that perverse their flesh, they’re mine by right I’m sure. For you are my own brother; my love, my twin, my mirror.

I’m sure you feel it too, this tainted purity. How could anyone understand? You are the only one for me.

I’m watching you right now, flirting with some girl. It should be me whose hair you finger, my ringlets that you twirl.

I’ll get your attention some day, and then you’ll feel my grief.

Another evening ball, my chance to cause you pain.

Hopefully this will help you.

God you’ve grown so vain.

The man walks up to me, and I see your ire rise.

This reflection is for you alone, so who is this foolish clown.

It is my turn to glance and smirk. This is no longer a game.

I need your touch to fill me, but till then he shall do.

We dance a song or two. He’s sweet, and charming too.

Unfortunately he’s not you, and only you will do.

You leave that girl without a word, fire in your eyes.

Another man has touched me, and that simply will not do.

The music begins to play, and you crush me with your hands.

This is our only chance, to play out our romance.

You growl and hiss and snap, the rage consuming you.

You are my twin, my heart, you whisper. How dare you give him you.

Your fingers blaze a trail, my core flaming true.

I am your twin, your heart, I moan. So please, please take me soon.

The crowd has disappeared, and with them the world has too.

It’s only when we waltz, that this passion can ring true.

It’s only when we waltz, that I can finally have you.


My Depression: A Poem

I feel like I’m drowning, this flooding of gray.

Why are you waiting?

Can you save me this way?

I want to function; to move, to laugh, to cry.

Why can’t I?

I want to do these things, but the power to conceive them, just isn’t mine to keep.

Where is my savior?

My power, my muse.

Why do you hide from me?

Why isn’t it me you choose?

I really want it to stop, to flow like the tears I need.

Yet here I drown in gray;

Unfeeling, and insane.

“You Can Never Just Be Happy”

That phrase just SOUNDS like someone’s tired doesn’t it? Like, they are SO tired of you always having an issue, and anxiety is hearing that phrase EVERY. WHERE. YOU. GO. And with EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON.

EVEN IF THEY NEVER SAY IT! It’s all you ever hear…

Man…I wish I could just be happy…really I do. I try every day to just be happy. To not stress about every random worry my anxiety makes up or to not just sink into the gray that is my depression…I really really try, but I’m always falling short. What sucks is that I don’t even get to tell when I’m doing it. I get upset over nothing and I’m half way into my fight and then my normal voice breaks through with the golden question, “Why are you even mad?”

Honestly brain, I have no FUCKING IDEA. That’s what you’re supposed to be here for…but what do you do when the organ that’s supposed to keep you normal ISN’T normal?!

What are you supposed to do with yourself when people would rather put you on a boat load of drugs? Or just put you in a home, because it’s so much easier than actually taking the time to try and understand you.

And it’s so unfair because people with mental illnesses (especially anxiety and depression) will literally go way out of their way to understand you. Almost every time, almost every person. Why? Because we live in hell, and we would rather get a good gut punch then hear someone is dealing with the same and not try to make it better…

Mental illness is not a cute thing you can play with or use whenever you don’t want to face something…it’s not a toy or gimmick to pull out when you want attention…it’s hard, and it’s lonely 😞

So…why can’t we get the same amount of decency that we give..?

“Gee Gopher…this is some pretty heavy stuff…what brought this on?”

You really want to know? You really want an example of how ridiculous my brain can be..?

This all started because I was bothered by the fact that the first impression I ever give someone, including the man I could see myself marrying and spending the rest of my life with, is that I’m cute….yep, that’s right. I’m bothered by the fact no one’s first impression when they see me is ever anything more than “yeah, she’s pretty cute”….

“Wow um…”

Yeah I know, it’s fucking petty as shit. BUT it’s how I feel…yay for fucking me….

I guess it stems from the fact my mom was a stunner at my age. Thick, spunky, wild blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes and so incredibly attractive she was later told that she was never approached because they felt she was out of her league. Now, let’s take a look at me shall we.

Pudgy, different hair color every month, glasses, too nice for my own good, clothes too big for me, and an unhealthy amount of awkwardness. So, I was VERY approachable. I know this because I was told ALL the time. I could be told ANYTHING. INCLUDING ALL THE HORRIBLE THINGS THE GUY WHO I HAD A CRUSH ON’S GIRLFRIEND WOULD DO TO HIM ON A DAILY BASIS.

“You’re such a good friend”, “You’re so easy to talk to”, “I wish I could find a girl like you” and the worst one above all

“Man she is so hot.” *looks at me* “Don’t worry, you’re cute too”

GEE, thank you sO MUCH FOR THAT!!

….Just would be nice to know someone saw me and I turned their head with a wow…or made them think “damn, what a ten”….my boyfriend told me the same thing I’ve always heard..”I thought you were cute” but then when he saw me in person, after getting to know me a lot better and already deciding he wanted to be with me, that he then thought I was gorgeous. Is that sweet? Yes, but at the same time all my anxiety can do is remind me people become more attractive when you have feelings for them…which means I was easy to approach in his eyes too….

I don’t want to be easy to approach….I want to be intimidating…and then I want to be told that even though I was intimidating I was still wanted.

Does any of that make sense to normal human beings?! PROBABLY THE FUCK NOT!!!

Ugh…just jump in front of a bus already -.-

Until next time

02:05 AM

Heya Gophs!

I know, it has indeed been a while and I am terribly sorry for that. I would love to tell you my lack of posting has been due to me keeping up with NaNoWriMo and working away on my book/books, but that is sadly not the case.

No, my lack of ANY kind of productivity has been cause by my…ANXIETY AMD DEPRESSION!!

**cue 80s horror music**

It’s slow moving this month but at least I’m still moving. Have to remember small things are still achievements and are just as good as the big stuff.

Anywho! The REASON behind this random post at 02:05 in the morning, happens to be my boyfriend.

To make a long, but cute, story short (I do believe I’ll post SOMETHING about it) my boyfriend and I are long distance for now. He’s going to try for a visit a month if he can, even more if possible, but for now i content myself with putting him on speaker and listening to his cute snores.

Funny thing is, I hate snoring. I hate it a lot and have never been able to sleep around it

….but the absence of his noise bothers me. I actually need to hear his soft snoring in order to sleep well.

Is that love Gophs..? Idk, but it’s mine


This post, was born from the fact that he has been out cold for a couple hours now. Lost in his sleep while I was watching a movie.

I finished it (it was hysterical: Girls Trip), laid down, and very quietly told him I loved him.

Why does this matter you ask?

It matters because after I told him I loved him, he very sleepily told me he loved me too, and even added he loved me more than anything….and he fell right back to sleep.

I’m listening to his soft snoring again…and all I can think is how much that meant to me. How sweet of a moment it was…how perfect it was.

He makes me so happy I could cry, but really I just want to listen to his breathing. I want to bask in the knowledge that somewhere in his sleep filled brain he heard me say “I love you”…and it’s first instinct was to wake up and say it back.

….I might not be being very productive…. but God I am happy.

I think….at least for a little bit….I’m allowed to just do nothing, and be happy.

So good night my love, I love you more than anything too

Until next time ☺️

The Sailor And The Rose: A Short Story

The night was chilly, with a mild humidity laced into the air. The world around him covered in a seeming fog, though he knew it was just his heavy soul making the world seem so. He needed a drink, and a stiff one at that.

He walked the wet streets slowly, taking in the surreal darkness he now found himself in. The obnoxious neon lights, the glittering puddles of rain beneath, and the mumbling brainless people moving in between them.

He walked into the first bar he could find, not giving a damn about the dirty looks or soulless eyes he was greeted by. He made his way to the bar; lowered eye lids showing he was almost as dead as the rest of them.

Just a few drinks, and he’d join them happily.

The bartender acknowledged him, but only long enough to gruff out a “sure” when he asked for some Southern Comfort. He threw it back quickly, relishing in the way it burned his throat and empty belly.

He threw up a small signal, getting another in return. And he downed that one too.

Five drinks in and the world seemed a little less fucked. Or maybe he just gave less of one; either was fine, but then the music started.

That slow deep strumming you only ever seemed to hear in seedy bars. The kind of strumming that went along with lost souls and jaded lovers. You know the kind; the kind that remind your heart what it was like to be shattered.

Yeeeaah, that’s what he was hearing, and God it made his whole existence quake. Wether it was because he’d heard it when buddies of his had gotten broken, or in his dreams because he’d never known it personally, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. All he knew was it gave the heat he was feeling a whole new meaning.

He drunkenly looked over his shoulder, only to see the source of the music swaying slowly in front of the pool table.

Her ashen blonde hair braided loosely down her back, and her pale skin glowing beneath the bars cool lights.

He stared for a while; his head moved from side to side from the drink, but he sure as fuck stared. And she knew.

You don’t stare at a woman like that and not get her attention. God in heaven, he wished he had done it sooner because her head slowly turned to face him. At first she looked surprised to see him staring; then the corners of her lips quirked up, and her eyes glittered with something he couldn’t place.

His hands suddenly ached and his mouth grew dry, but nothing bothered him more than the very obvious lack of her that he now felt. So he got up, and stupidly made his way to her side.

He didn’t care about the other men around her, nor about the one that seemingly had all of her attention. No, he didn’t care a single bit. All he heard was the strumming, and he wanted to know what it was like to feel it too.

He took her by the waist, pulled her close, and kissed her the only way he knew how; hungrily, and painfully.

It was like the whole world died right there on her lips, because he couldn’t sense anything but her. Nothing but her, and the music she came with.

God how he moaned when he felt her kiss him back; when he felt her soft hands reach up and bury themselves in his hair. She tasted of honey and smelt like roses, but her touch was sin and her love was thorns. But sailors were hardy men, and could wether any storm.

He vowed right there, sealing it on her lips, that he’d weather this one. So long as the music kept on. So long as the rose in her soul bloomed for him. He would weather it all. For her, and her music.

Writober #6

Inspired by Love Is A Bitch by Two Feet and my current lover

Tell Me What To Do: A Poem

You ever have that ONE person…that ONE person you don’t remember falling that deeply for…but years down the road when you’ve gotten stronger and are ready for better…they somehow show up in your mind and heart like a fresh wound..?

They somehow show up and make everything you’ve been looking towards seem off..? Seem a little less..?

All the questions hit all at once…

Will it be better..? Will they make me happier…? Did I already find the one and lose them..? Will the butterflies that I had so long ago return when I finally touch lips with this new person…? Or were they only with that one..?

All these questions that make my heart ache and my body tremble…

All these questions that make me want to tear my hear out and sob until my throat is hoarse..

I wish I knew how to quit you….but then..even if I did, I probably still wouldn’t have the strength to do it…

I wish I knew how not to come apart when I think of telling you goodbye…

I wish I knew how to not run right back to you…

God…had I known what love could be,

I would’ve fallen more sparingly…

Now here I sit…stuck between two loves..that I hadn’t known would be so hard to choose between…

Fuck man, tell me what I mean to you….

Please God, just tell me what to do

Writober #5

Hello, And Welcome: A Poem

Hello, and welcome.

The sun is not yet in.

I’d wake her if I could,

But it seems she’s gone again.

Please don’t fret,

And please don’t frown.

She’ll come right back;

She’s just down.

The sun can be quite warming,

And always make you smile.

But sometimes it gets too much,

And she’ll run away for miles.

The moon, however, knows this

And he always wants to help.

He’ll shine his light so proudly,

Just so you won’t yelp.

But he does it for the sun,

The one he loves so dear.

He knows just what she wants,

And whispers in her ear.

“Don’t fret my dearest sun,”

He says. “I’ll keep the light on true;

It’s not as good as yours,

But it’ll have to do.”

So hello, and welcome.

Please do take a seat.

The moon is shining brightly,

So his darling sun can sleep.

Writober #4

Inspired by flowers and my moon