Westside of Harlem/Flower

By Shyanne Spencer

Discussed: mental illness, self-harm, suicidal thoughts

This poem that I share comes from a familiar place that me and other teenagers experience growing up. I remind myself daily of my self-worth, and like others, I can live my best life and pursue my gift. My voice speaks for many as we take our Place in HerStory!

Where a flower grew 
Where you see people shooting dice
I said the west side of Harlem
Where babies cry cause
Mom didn’t have enough for milk
Where you walk out your house and that
Gun decides if you live
Or get killed
As you sit on that bench… think, think
For a minute
Think about how much time you spent in
That house
Waiting for your mom to get home
You look on the side of you and you see two blunts that’s
Been rolled and burnt
You see the beer cans
And hoping she
Doesn’t hit you again
I said the west side of Harlem where
You see the fresh boys 
And fly girls 
Where having the best shoes makes you 
or learning how to shoot a gun
Man I feel like that shit takes you
And know that your mom has a
Issue with substance abuse
Remember your still that flower that
Grew on the west side of Harlem

CONFUSED

Sucking in my tears to breathe
The fire that burns in me
Angry at the world
Because of something I could’ve
Did Better or something I could’ve done
The ways of the world is unknown
My darker days are becoming cold
Death is my option
Staying alive is not
I try to hold back my words and hoping
Someone sees this teenage girl who is
Crying... crying for help
When you see these big scars these embarrassing scars you may understand 
Why or maybe not
You sit there as she speaks jotting down
Her thoughts and pills she need to take
Or maybe wondering why she cuts with a blade… and as she watches you she wonders if you really understand why she
Chooses death or living
But who is she kidding
The numbness creeps 
In our veins
See me and this girl are the same
And we understand that humankind may never understand our pain
And you know what… it’s okay

HOLDING ON

Cry myself to sleep sometimes
Cut myself to sleep sometimes
Just feelin like i wanna die
Feeling empty inside
Tryin to be numb and ignore
The rejection and depression
Holding on to memories that
Aren’t what they seem to be,
In reality there nightmares
And I stare
I stare into darkness
Hoping for a better life
I feel coldness creeping in my veins
And it’s makin me go insane
Because my heart is beating...

Just tryin to hold on