Fallen Trees

We are the jokers
The loners
The invisible roamers
The insomniac dreamers
And the at-risk soldiers

sitting here colder, shoulder to shoulder,

Always being told "you'll be better when you're older".


What about now?

My grip won't hold.
Platitudes don't help when it can't be consoled.
Everything is fine but I am losing control.
First of my mind, and then of my soul.

It's too heavy to carry, so we do it ourselves,
Because when did Atlas ever ask for help.
We tie a tourniquet around our bleeding shell
And never show this living hell

We'll cover the cuts with longer sleeves

We'll catch the tears like falling leaves.

Together we're alone

Or so we believe

Standing like a forest of fallen trees.

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


Gabby Ellis

This might come across a little strange but stay with me.

I wish I was able to put into words how this makes me feel, what it makes me think about.  This is me trying.  I really admire the rhythm and humanity you've woven into your words.  Some of the pieces I read feel detached and too crafted, but yours has vivid emotion and personality.  I feel like you're sitting next to me, relaxed yet vulnerable, sharing some of your deepest thoughts about life.  This goes for both "Fallen Trees" and "Umbrella."  I would absolutely love to read more of your pieces and encourage you to write whatever is on your heart or mind.  All the best to you and your incredible gift.

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741