Sometimes I Still Want to Disappear

A spoken word poem.

Shannon Ashley
Dec 14, 2019 · 3 min read
Photo by Jake Melara on Unsplash

All is not calm along the borderline.

There are decades of echoes ringing in my ears.

I am forlorn and scavenging

For bits of scrappy love.

The shadows beckon and claw at my mind as I fear what I might do just to survive.


There are these highs and lows and countless ex-lovers,

People who can’t help but ask if we’re just “being bipolar,”

Or if we even know who we are.

We don’t. And that’s the whole damn point.

We frequently don’t know who we are supposed to be.

And I’m scared as hell because I feel like I am losing everything.

I can’t help but wonder why I ever thought I could thrive.


Life is not calm for this borderline.

Not here, not now, and maybe never again.

Sometimes, I am doing well. At other times, I am completely beyond my depth.

Most lately, I’m a wreck who can’t seem to talk about her feels.

Who can’t seem to own more than her guilt for not being “better” or more put together.


But don’t worry, this won’t last.

At least, I don’t think it will be forever but then again I really can’t be sure.

I wasn’t made for this world, not in the way that really seems to count.

Instead, I’m ashamed of the simplest things.

Like so many others before me, I feel awkward and ugly,

Burdened by the grief of living such a painful life.

How could I not want to go ahead and let all of that go?


They think I’m some sort of champion.

The borderline girl who slays dragons and walks in calm, collected.

They don’t know how often the calm gives way to pain.

And I don’t know how to always see the light, the brightside.

So, she walks in beautifully tragic distractions.


I am caught up in the ghosts of where I am and what I was.

Almost completely swallowed up by the fears of whatever might happen.

Pieces of me want to disappear.

But I don’t. And maybe that’s the rub.

I’m trapped between too many different realities.

Stuck in a place where I don’t dare reveal my growing cracks.

Waking up at 3AM to mourn what I have or haven’t lost.


All is not calm along the borderline.

I am frantically ringing in phantoms of the new year.

I am forlorn and scavenging

For little bits of peace.

My dark shadows beckon and claw at my mind as I fear how I might stay alive.

I fear, and that is more than enough for one day.


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Shannon Ashley

Written by

Single mama, fulltime writer, exvangelical. It's not about being flawless, it's about being honest. Top Writer. shannon.ashley.medium@gmail.com

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