Mental - Poem


Written by Alma Claire

Smile by Alma Claire

They will not notice if I smile.


I can hide my broken if I smile.


The ugly bones and eyes like stones

will not show if I smile.


Eyes watch plate.


Heart begins to race.


They are all out to get me


They are trying to trick me


They want to ruin me


They are noticing and bones are showing and I am breaking and the smile is fading

and and and

I can’t breathe : Smile.

Choking on Perfection

I am no sculpture.

There is nothing to admire here,

nothing to touch or hold.

Nothing to love.

Michael Angelo would have discarded me:

a failure.

I am scaffolding.

Hard and lifeless;

a shell of what is to come – no,

what has been.

Hollow and barely standing.

I wither and wilt:




Feed on emptiness.

Swallow pain and spit out shame.

Choke on perfection.

I wither and wilt:




A person and their shadow staring at a golden ball that is unravelling away from them, representing how people that are considered "different" are ostracised from the glory of society.

Swallow by Alma Claire

I am standing alone

in a room

with the shadows.

People dance

and laugh

and glow.

There is light dripping off them;

their words

their thoughts

their bodies.

What a mess.

I prefer the dark

and the cold

where no one can see me.

Burned out, I watch them.

I envy them,

worship them,

despise them.

Swallow air.

Swallow pride.

Anything to full tonight.

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