creative writing mental health poetry

Coffee Break Poetry

My Life Is My Art

Do you remember the time, not long ago,

We couldn’t wait to talk to each other again.

Texting all day until early next morning,

Smiling at the sound of that text notification,

Laughing at inside jokes and dumbass remarks.

I miss that. I miss you.

You’ll never know just how much.

Just how hard it is to keep going,

Knowing those times are forgotten for you.

Are they? Are those memories gone?

Or do you remember as often as I do?

I’ll be okay.

I’ve met good, kind people who encourage me.

Keep going, keep healing, keep sharing.

My life has become my art.

Art that you don’t get to see anymore.



I found this while going through some papers in my kitchen cupboard (of all places!). It was jotted down on sticky paper and forgotten about. Most of the poetry I find is wrote on sticky notes honestly LOL. I should start calling this Sticky Note Poetry. I don’t remember writing it but I know it was at least 2 years ago and the hurt was real and raw and I could never imagine the anger and betrayal that this would bring in the end. There are still so many new things that I am learning about myself and feelings that are emerging from childhood as I explore my memories and those boxes in my head on this journey of healing and moving forward.

Have a great weekend!


In Progress…

Silhouette of Tree Near Body of Water during Golden Hour

The anger is sickening,

She doesn’t want you there.

Why are you never around?

She no longer gives a care.

The years have made her numb

To the words, the love, the hate.

It hurts. Like she can’t breathe.

Get out! It’s not too late!

Photo from