By Katie Foley
i promise no one is looking at you but i know how it is to feel like you’re flat.
a crisp two dimensions.
to stagnate, to hear only white noise.
i used to feel like i was sketched in lead or that i moved in stop motion.
i know i know; you close your eyes on the bus
and refuse to open them till your stop arrives and
i hate to break it to you, but your guidance counsellor might be right
talk to your friends count to ten
eat an apple suck on the seed
and i know it feels silly but
cry when girls mention their mothers in a song and wear something warm because
no one else but you and that stupid mirror care if you’re pretty and
meditate and take a breath
and go for a run and absorb the air through your skin so dewy and so fresh and
open your body and lay it across the grass and
look
at how inevitably blue the sky is
look
at the dust particles that waltz in the sunlight,
like little people dancing,
and know how it is to dance like them again
Katie Foley is an 18 year old poet based in Dublin, Ireland. With an interest in exploring the modern world and specifically the digital age, their poetry tends to focus on dissecting their personal experiences with girlhood, the internet, queerness and obsessive compulsive disorder. This particular poem is an ode to mental health tips that seem trivial until you actually try them.
Hot Pot Magazine 