Poetry From Amsterdam

A glimpse into the collection

*trigger warning – depression, ptsd, mature subject matter*


Hi friends! R here 🙂

The week after my big incident, I spent a week in Amsterdam to get away and process what had happened (I had lived in Amsterdam for a while before and it is truly a safe place for me – where I feel most at rest and at peace). I had been told by the doctors who saw me immediately after my incident to keep a journal. This is some of what came out as I attempted to explain what was going on in my head – a somewhat random selection of some of the poems.

I intend on releasing the entire little poetry-like journal as a e-book or pdf that can be downloaded by donation to the society, with all proceeds going directly to helping survivors. I am working on getting it illustrated and will let you know when it’s ready!

Love, R

April 01, 2018. 9:42 AM (AMS Time) 

I don’t feel like I am truly, presently living;

Only observing:

Like I’m peering into the world externally as a ghost would.

Or, as God does, I suppose. 

Seeing all without being seen. 

My social worker at the hospital said to Journal, so…

here I am.

I don’t want to write

What happened

Not yet.

A man asked me for money on the street.

‘A euro short’ he said

I had many thoughts flood me:

A euro for drugs?…..

Drugs for you?….

….Or someone else?

A euro for sex?

A euro for weed? 

Beer?

Vodka soda?

A body?

Or…

Coffee?

Food?

I cannot know which.

So, who am I 

To deprive him of a euro

When I have one in my pocket?

I gave him 1.25 

But I couldn’t smile

I am not

Going to let him

Take away

My mercy.

11 Things that are in fact real in this moment

  1. I feel like a f*ckup
  2. I smell gluten free bread and dark roast coffee
  3. I feel like i am the one who needs to fix me, because I feel like I f*cked up
  4. I want – i need to get myself on track (I feel like I am spiralling down a black hole and I need to make a 180 before it’s too late.)
  5. My whole body aches
  6. Everything looks and feels grey – Like I have the eyes of a dog
  7. I want to cry but I cannot
  8. I need a holiday more than anything
  9. I have a lot of tension in the back of my head
  10. I want to be angry but I cannot
  11. I taste smokey lukewarm coffee

Particles (I)

The passion i’ve held

For the entirety of my life

Has evaporated

My personality

My characteristics

Evaporated

And now

Float above me

Unreachable

Unattainable

I’m left empty

I can see it, but I cannot reach it

No passion left

No fuel to live

No life

Nothing?

*all texts written above belong to Riley-Ann Holm. Do not use without permission.*

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