From the ashes she became

Before she became fire, she was water

Quenching the thirst of every dying creature

She gave and gave

until she turned from sea to desert

but, instead of dying of the heart, the sadness, the heartache

she took  all the pain and from her own ashes

she became fire.




~Nikita Gill



Like a dumpster filled with things people don’t want

My mind is cluttered

I can’t focus on one thing; my mind starts to wonder.

a dictator of what’s beautiful and true

a malicious invader that makes every encounter blue,

always in disorder, a recorder of everything wrong.

Depression is like a song you hate to sing, dancing to the tune even though you don’t know what the words mean.

My mind is clutter

It’s torture

© T. Carey


It bites at me like a hungry snake

Asking, ” what can I take today?”

your sanity?

your drive?

your will to survive?

As soon as my feet hit the floor

I’m begging my demon for no more.

“I can’t handle it,” I say

It’s okay; you’re going to take it anyway.

Today I do not fight so I go back to

bed, I’d rather lie dead instead.

I cover my face so you can’t see, it doesn’t

matter because you’re within me.

“One day, I will get rid of you, I say

but not today.

© T. Carey


I’ve come too far for you not to respect

My Scars

Pages left unturned; happiness passed up because lessons never learned.

I go back to the same mistakes repeatedly, conceitedly thinking it will be different

You see,

I come from a bloodline of

warriors, peacekeepers, leaders, and healers.

I will never give up on humanity no matter what it throws at me.

My Scars

reminds me of what I have

endured, withstood, resisted and survived

to see them is what keeps me Alive.

Published by #poeticmedicine

© T. Carey