Sabrina Benaim - "Explaining My Depression to My Mother"

I love this poem. She really explained what my depression is to me. Warning there is some beautiful imagery and some frightening truths.

10 Things I Hate About You

I can't take credit for this poem, but it sums up my feelings right now. After all how do you hate your best friend? I changed it a little bit but mostly it is taken straight from the movie 10 Things I Hate About You. 

10 Things I Hate About You

I hate the way you talk to me 

and the way you cut your hair

I hate the way you drive your car

I hate it when you stare

I hate your big, dumb cowboy boots

and the way you read my mind

I hate you so much it makes me sick

it even makes me rhyme

I hate the way you're always right

I hate it when you lie

I hate it when you make me laugh

even worse when you make me cry

I hate it when you're not around

and the fact that you don't call

but mostly I hate the way I don't hate you

not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

My recent experience of falling in love with my best friend

I just realized something about myself. I fall in love with best friends because best friends are forever, boyfriends aren't. And now I've lost another best friend. I am so much more upset about loosing a best friend than a boyfriend figure. I don't know how to handle continuing to loose best friends. It's damaging my belief in forever. I know I mix my platonic and romantic loves when I fall for best friends. But I want the platonic love. If only I can leave it at platonic love.

I've heard of formulas to falling in love if only there was a recipe to not falling. People keep telling me that one day I'll find another guy 'the guy'. But that doesn't help at all. Sure I'll get married one day, yeah whatever, that truly doesn't help me right now. I am stuck in a moment right now. And anything outside of that one moment is not registering to me. I had a friend once come to me after a heartbreak. I asked what he wanted me to do and how I could help. He said "just let me mourn. I need to mourn." The scriptures say "mourn with those that mourn." I don't want to mourn-that means more tear stains on my pillow.

Society tells me to move on-not allow real grief for a silly crush. There seems to be a problem with mourning a lost love. It's fine and acceptable to mourn the loss of a person through death. Well to me this is more the loss of a person to death than a silly love lorn damsel. He might still be my friend. He's still around but it's not the same! My best friend is gone. All that's left in the rubble are pieces of a friendship that only add up to 'just friends'. I know we can't go back but I want to. I want my best friend back. But in order to be back at best friends he believes we would be back at boyfriend territory. I'm not sure if I disagree with him. It does appear that the platonic and romantic loves are intertwined.

Falling for your best friend is hard. I don't recommend it. But if that person falls back then you found the world. If they don't is when things get complicated. I wouldn't say I regret falling for him, sometimes that's what I want to feel. I want to regret it for ruining a perfect friendship. But that's not how I feel. He really is the best. I'm just not his best which is okay. It hurts a lot but if you want to give me sympathy "you will find another guy" then don't. That's not what I need. I need to mourn the passing of a great best friendship.

I know I will repeat the cycle in the future. I'll fall for another best friend and I'll probably end up crying again but that's who I am. I fall in love with people all the time. I fall fast and hard. That's me. I wish I didn't but then again I don't know if I would change that about myself.

Until the next best friend.

I Believe

I haven't posted in a while and that seemed like a terrible idea so here is a poem that means a lot to me. I hope you take the time to think about what you believe in. Christ is a really great place to start in my opinion. 

I Believe

I believe in the pain of the cross

The agony of my sins

The print of the nails

The hailstorm of grief

The blood at every pore

But the idea that everything stopped there

Is cheating the importance of His sacrifice

I believe in the resurrection

I believe in the world beyond this one

I believe in my savior

His life, His death, and His victory over the grave

And I believe

In the heaven I can fly to because of all

He has done, on that cross, in that tomb

And beyond the veil

Aubrianna Hockett

November 2, 2010

Mystic and Bizarre

I haven't had a poem on here about myself in a while. So here is a pretty fun and odd one. :)

Mystic and Bizarre

I am mystic and bizarre

I wonder who poked the first hole in the night sky

I hear the whispers of souls

I see glowing auras all around me

I want to hold a star in my hand

I am mystic and bizarre

I pretend to make ripples with my fingertips in the inky blackness

I believe in everyday angels

I touch the shadows on the wall

I feel a message from the spirits spoken to my heart

I worry for the day when the diamonds fall from the heavens

I cry over the snuffed out dreams of comrades

I am mystic and bizarre

I understand the fire of the sea

I say “through silence, all is revealed”

I dream in shades of silver

I hope to see an angel be born again

I am mystic and bizarre

September 17, 2010

Rain Showers

I really want it to rain tonight. Haha but it probably won't.

Rain showers

I go dancing and singing in the street

When it rains

Twirling and twirling around again

When it rains

I sing my heart and soul out

When it rains

Singing of the birds and flowers

When it rains

Dreaming of love lost

When it rains

Relishing in the new beginning

When it rains

I go dancing and spinning about

When it rains

Jumping and leaping in delight

When it rains

Turning around and around

When it rains

Seeing the world as it is

When it rains

I join in the cleansing of the earth

When it rains

Purging away the rot and muck

When it rains

Adding another layer to the riddle

When it rains

Drinking up the tears from heaven

When it rains

I love the smell of the air

When it rains

Love hearing my potential

When it rains

Some may say it is dark and dreary

When it rains

But really it is light and refreshing 

When it rains

March 19, 2009

Perfect Role

I wrote this so long ago. But I've been feeling a bit lost lately. Just confused as to who I am. And I recalled this poem. I don't know if this gave me complete clarity but I think it helps. I may not know what role I am playing right now but at least I know this didn't just come out of nowhere. I like being a theatre person but who am I behind all the different characters?

Perfect Role

Everyone thinks I’m at the top of the world

Not so

I’m an actor

Full of rehearsed scenes and practiced movements.

Sure I can be spontaneous, adding my own touch to an act

But I feel I can’t remove this costume

It’s weighing me down and becoming part of me.

I am becoming more and more like the character I am playing

But I play multiple characters

Who am I?

Am I a mixture of fictitious people?

Do I even have an original personality?

This stage make-up is covering my true beauty

And all these props seem so real.

I guess I have heard so many songs, read so many books,

Seen so many plays and movies

I seem to think my life should be a Broadway musical

But I keep changing the main character

The audience is getting confused.

How to end this episode of my life?

Should I conclude with a dramatic cliffhanger,

A humbling lesson for all ages,

A romantic happily ever after

Or a perfectly normal day?

What will attract more spectators?

What will make the actors keep performing?

Should I just forget everyone and tell it how it is?

Not care who’s watching or listening

And just make up my own character

Someone who is very similar to myself

Who has a knack for putting herself in other people’s shoes

A girl who might be just like you,

An amateur actor searching for the perfect role.

February 26, 2009

True Magic

Magic holds a special place in my heart. I see it as a part of everything. I love the magic of witches and wands but also smiles and kindness. I think God made magic. I really believe that magic is in the wind and the rain. How can it not be? I am in awe of everything this world holds. I feel God's spirit in most everything I do and I can't think of a better word to describe that spirit than magical. Not the magic of make believe but the magic of something wonderfully unexplained.  

True Magic

Magic is traditionally the art

Of something you can’t see

But feel in your heart

It’s more than illusions

And deceptions to lead

The audience to new conclusions

We can’t understand it absolutely

No matter how hard you study

Or watch astutely

The true magic of this universe

Is in the power of God

Not slight of hands you rehearse

God isn’t a magician let’s be clear

He has true power and presence

An awe that we should revere

His spirit upon this earth

Is the magic that has

Surrounded me since birth

It’s the warmth from the star

That gives us life and light

From a distance unbelievably far

The magic of a loving touch

The simple human contact

That can change everything so much

Magic is in the trees

As the wind blows

I see what the bird sees

A simple smile has it

Even from a stranger

You have to admit

Magic means everything to me

It’s how the world goes round

It is life’s ultimate key

True magic happens when I write

I feel the power

As He gives me sight

To see

The true magic

In me

July 14, 2015

Story of Mr. Wrong

So I looked back the other day and realized I have ended up crushing on all the wrong guys in the past 6 months and after consoling myself I found the humor.

Story of Mr. Wrong

Once upon a time there was a lady

With hair neapolitan and wavy

She had the worst of luck

In picking men she sorta sucked

None returned her affection

They didn’t see her perfection

All she did was crush on all the wrong men

Seriously it was probably a sin

There was the preme boy

Practically still a minor with toys

But his smile was adorable

The age difference—deplorable

I wasn’t the next guy’s type at all

Talking to him was like hitting a wall

I should have seen it earlier on

But he was way more interested in John

After that was the perfect guy

Floppy hair and a twinkle in his eye

I didn’t notice the signs

But he always said the right lines

Taken from the script in his hand

He was an actor—the best in the land

There are usually rules to forbid

Crushes at work unless you keep them off the grid

But this coworker would just flirt and smile

So there wasn’t an HR report to even file

I waited two years for the next boy

Now he’s back and plays with me like a toy

He is awkward and unsure

His thoughts still missionary and pure

He doesn’t know how to respond to a text

So I moved on to the next

I liked this one’s bossiness

It matched well with my sauciness

But he was my manager at work

And my job doesn’t have those kinds of perks

The last man is the worst crush of my life

He happens to have a wife

July 11, 2015

Time Lapse

Sometimes viewing your life as a movie is naive but then occasionally it's the only way everything makes sense. I was downhearted, sad and confused and I even wondered if I was just a supporting character. What if it wasn't my movie?

As I was wallowing as we all tend to do I realized something magnificent. I have been going through the motions for months and nothing has changed. I am in the time lapse sequence. Months go by in seconds on the screen, but in life those are real months.; Some of the hardest because everyday is the same. I'm stuck in a rut right now. And I don't know what to do.

Then I really thought about those time sequences--THEY DON'T LAST FOREVER--they end. And once they do things change. Even the smallest change makes room for more change.

I don't know where I am in the course of my movie. I have no idea what will happen, who will walk into my life and who will walk out.

But all I have to do right now is weather through this time. A new scene will come and everything will change. As I choose to stand strong I will look for the change.

July 5,2015

Two Names

Two Names

My mother game me two names

One for each girl inside me

Aubri is emotional, dark, gloomy, lonely and

Her insights to the world are

Fierce, cynical, depressing, profound and personal

Her demons have thrown the world in shadows

But she continues to put one foot in front of the other

Aubri is challenged with depression

Anna is expressive, happy, compulsive, flirty and

Her insights to this life are

Powerful, naïve, hopeful, manic and crazy

Demons have thrown a kaleidoscope over her world

And yet she tries each day to see things clearly

Anna is challenged with overcompensating

These two women are not opposites

No matter how different they seem

They share the courage to try

Aubri is sad and often pitied and forgotten

Anna is ecstatic and often annoying and ignored

But both are smart beautiful women

With real struggles and hard earned wisdom

One is not greater or better

Or even complete without the other

I can’t be just Aubri or just Anna

I can’t choose confident fun over dark wisdom,

Light over shadow,

Crowded pain over private sorrow,

OCD over apathy,

Actress over poetess

I can’t choose because I am both

My mother gave me two names

And I need them both

I am Aubrianna

June 7, 2015

Happy Birthday Grandma

Last week I realized I hadn't written my grandmother a eulogy. She died a year and a half ago and you might think it's too late for a eulogy but I disagree. I wrote some remarks for her and I want to share them today. This day would have been her 74th birthday. To celebrate her life and her continued existence in heaven I want to share this.

Betsy wasn't a woman she was a force. I can't remember a time she didn't accomplish what she set out to do. Her will made her a superhero. She had opinions on everything! frankly they weren't always right but always powerful. She was a strong willed matriarch for so long. But the last six years of her life she made the courageous decision to follow. Ken lit up her life.

She was a hero for so many. A blunt mother hen, a fearless ally, a gentle weathered hand, a confident supporter and a loving friend. There are so many sights and smells that bring her beside me, double bubble bubble gum brings me comfort, bras make me laugh, the Smallville theme song triggers a million memories, fanny packs bring me to my knees, her earrings add confidence to my outfit, a jeep like hers is my dream and her spirit is my home. 

I have found so many moments where my hand is reaching for my phone to call her and then the weight crashes again. I will always miss sharing my life with her. I wanted her here for so many more milestones. But I know she will be smiling in the temple, judging the color of my dress, lecturing my husband, comforting me when my children grow up, holding me when my parents pass, standing beside me amid the darkest night and running towards me when I finally see her again. 

My grandmother was the best. I hate that she was called away but I know that she left me with enough courage and knowledge to continue on my own. She taught me that I am the master of my own story. And I plan on picking up a pen.

Grandma, I love you more than you love Tom Welling. 

Aubrianna 

  

What is enough

What is enough


sometimes going through the motions
is enough
sometimes trying and failing
is enough
sometimes eating a morsel of bread
is enough
sometimes getting fully dressed
is enough
sometimes a loving hug
is enough
sometimes the presence of another
is enough
sometimes and understanding glance
is enough
sometimes a treasured teddy bear
is enough
sometimes moving from the bed to the couch
is enough
sometimes moving from the bed to the couch
is enough
sometimes a dry eye
is enough
sometimes one positive thought
is enough
sometimes I
am enough

May 31, 2015

Today's Miracle

Today’s Miracle

I climbed Mt Everest today

Trudging toward the outside world

I swallowed cockroaches at breakfast

As each medication crawled down my throat

I left my life boat

To cross my bedroom

I struggled through a foreign language

Responding in a conversation

I braved a snowy blizzard

Once I opened the front door

I battled demons

On the sidewalk

The miracle maker followed by my side

Miraculously getting me to live today

Leaving the house isn’t a miracle in many eyes

But on my own it was impossible

May 31, 2015

Needless to say I really didn't feel up to leaving the comfort of my covers. But little by little I did. The miracle of today was taking that first step out of bed. 

Green Room Friends

This is about a friend that will probably not evolve into something more.


Green Room Friends

green room fast friends
united in the job to be done
each day getting closer
seeing each other better
seeking a friendship that
will last in the real world
his it changed though
after all real life and
theatre are on different planes
heaven help me I don't know when
everything changed but it did
I started to care for this man
started to see him as a
guy I could learn to love
all I wanted was a chance
yet I'm not really his type

April 9, 2015

Emotional Whirl

I really jump all the time and I hate it. So I've decided to just get over him and move on. Just friends is better anyway. 

Emotional Whirl

How is it that I can take a simple smile

And continue to run with it for a mile

My mind decides to jump to the end

When he has yet to call me his friend

My thoughts keep slipping away

Into the realm of someday

Dreaming of a time

When he will be mine

But alas

Not his lass

Am

I

I

Am

But a girl

In a whirl

Of her emotions

And made up notions

But you will never love me

What am I for thee to see

But a woman caught up in her dreams

That reality rips at the seams

I can take a smile a long way off so too

A frown, alack I’ll ne’er have a shot with you

March 18, 2015

Peaches and Pairs

Here is a poem I wrote about a guy that hasn't given me cause to hope but somehow I can't stop. He brings out a creative side of myself I didn't know I had, one with structure. Working with syllables, homophones and rhyme really made me enjoy the challenge of creating within the lines.

Peaches and Pairs

Oh to be named he and I a pair

I would strip all my defenses bare

Even name him the jaws of the bear

All this to be the peach to his pear

There is a grand twinkle in his eye

To be the cause of I would nearly die

I knew once he spoke of my red dye

That there was something between him and I

I love his slight scruff and floppy hair

Even those black tights he seems to wear

That really shouldn't exist anywhere

In this race for him I’m not the hare

Nor lovely Ariel with a tail

I don’t go with his Eric clothes or sail

I’m not quite sure his heart is for sale

But I want to be the girl in his tale

I am here and he is way over there

How do I even get off this stair

Choose to open my mouth instead of stare

At the way they look and how all their

Happiness makes my very heart sore

My confidence is so very poor

With one wrong word tears would simply pour

And one smile my heart would take flight and soar

Though I am not the goddess of the air

He is a perfect prince a king’s true heir

March 25, 2015

You Decide

I wrote this for a art exhibit of sorts. The theme was "what is courage to you..." Honestly the words came to me almost unbidden. I know I need to share this piece with as many as are struggling. Each decision has the potential to be courageous.

You Decide

Strength is getting out of bed
Learning to live with the darkness
That never seems to leave my head
Willpower is staying the knife
Poised above my wrist
Ready to distract my life
Endurance is choosing a smile to fake
Over each sigh I make
Bravery is saying hello back
To the kind stranger on the street
Using the social skills I seem to lack
Spunk is dancing with friends
When the gloom calls for tears
And books from covers to ends
Boldness is letting new people in
When I but want the loneliness to win
Determination is electing to eat
When the effort seems too great
To even try getting off my feet
Tenacity is crawling between the sheets
Each night to lay awake for hours
Believing dreams with come and replace my defeats
Pluck is celebrating each task that's done
Instead of focusing on the list you haven't begun
Courage is deciding to see trials
As opportunities to learn of my
Blessings that stretch for miles
Courage is deciding to live
With depression and anxiety and anything else
And opening my heart to God to forgive
Courage is deciding to thrive
Instead of just survive.

March 15,2015

Not Your Average Story

A man began to tell a story and I knew it would end on a 'happily ever after' note. At the time this started to bother me, I don't have those happily ever after moments. Why do we always talk about them? That experience prompted me to start a poem about stories. I have to say it was a struggle to rhyme I don't usually do that because I'm frankly not that good at it but as I was writing it was fun to find the word that would fit. I hope you find your stories always continue another page.


Not Your Average Story

Every story that's told ends with a smile
a perfect package tied in a bow
the prince walks the princess down the aisle
it's happily ever after we all know
why do humans need the strings all tied?
is that even how life works these days
all the story books have lied
the wold has changed it's ways
there are no endings in life
it just continues onto the next page
each chapter holds joy and strife
moments held by gentleness and rage
some argue with tears that death is the end
though for those left to toil it's the start of something new
those who are gone are not lost they transcend
we may want to stay in the story awaiting our cue
but the fairy tales are full of pretend
however we can choose reality over cartoon
all we need is to replace 'the end'
with 'to be continued soon'

March 8, 2015

Haiku Experiment

I was trying to write but it's late and I am tired. So I decided to play with haikus. I've never done much with this style of poetry but it was kind of fun to work with syllables instead of rhyme. They are a bit scattered but like I said I'm a bit scattered myself. Here are my sleep ones:

My brain won’t focus

Life’s been hard the last few days

All I want is sleep

Sleep beckons to me

A warm call, a gentle touch

I am deeply lost

I was reading in 1 Samuel today and I read the story of Hannah giving Samuel to the lord. I know all sacrifices you give to the lord serve a purpose but to give up the son you had waiting and longed for seems incredibly difficult. 

Hannah how did you

Give your child to god forever

Didn’t you love him

Yes I did love him

But I love God even more

And I promised

And finally I wrote one about God and what he does for me. I really feel like his arms are around me in a gentle embrace. It's a feeling unlike any other. 

God is my father

His love is a warm embrace

It blocks the darkness

February 26, 2015

Who am I

This is a companion poem to Who is God, included in my previous post, meant to be read side by side. I loved writing this! There are times when I wonder who has more of a hand in my writing; me or God. He really helped me with this one. I hope you take the time to discover who God is to you and who you are to Him.

Who am I?

The sinner who needs a lot of help to attain salvation

The poet whose wise thoughts always get lost in translation

The daughter who regrets all the years she was the center of her mother’s frustration

The sister who tries the hardest in each conversation

The friend who has learned to look beyond limitation

The child who still sees the world as a fascination

The writer who wishes to be someone’s inspiration

The lover who though broken still has a very high expectation

The student who hopes to make an impact on civilization

The girl who has survived and learned from life’s tribulation

The woman who dreams of a best friendship full of love and adoration

The comedian who doesn't always value or desire isolation

The lamb who follows her shepherd without hesitation

The believer who holds fast to the rod that leads to the final destination

The masterpiece of God’s creation

February 25, 2015

Who is God

This is what god is to me. 

Who is God?

The judge who can grant ultimate salvation

The hearer of prayers who never needs a translation

The friend who understands every frustration

The listener who knows the most important part of a conversation

The holy one whose divinity knows no limitation

The being whose light and goodness spark all manner of fascination

The brother whose actions give me inspiration

The son who fully lives up to his father’s expectation

The savior who can heal all of civilization

The redeemer who knows my personal tribulation

The prince who is loved with true adoration

The man who knows fully life’s pain and isolation

The shepherd who would die for his flock without hesitation

The leader who has marked the path to our final destination

The rock of creation

  

February 24, 2015

Dark Thoughts

I was reading the scriptures and came across this verse in Alma 34:35 

"For behold, if ye have procrastinated the day of your repentance even until death, behold, ye have become subjected to the spirit of the devil, and he doth seal you his; therefore, the Spirit of the Lord hath withdrawn from you, and hath no place in you, and the devil hath all power over you; and this is the final state of the wicked." 

The word 'seal' really caught my eye and as I thought more about the verse and the concept this scene came to mind of a soul captured by the devil. It's a bit dark but I believe it holds truth. I sincerely hope this never unfolds in my life. I hope no one ends up in this position. 

What happens when the choice between evil and right is past? And you end up on the wrong side. The devil will have power over you. He will seal you into a cell, on an old forgotten island that the Lord God cannot even tread upon. You will lament in a dreary wasteland until you are full of gloom and bitterness. At that point you finally choose to revile against all that is good. The very being you possess is full of evilness.  The bars cannot hold this new-found dark power. With your freedom you do not however flee the island and search the world over for forgiveness. You climb the stairs and come face to face with the Devil himself. On your knees you beg for admittance into his private army. That host of darkness that seeks out auras of light. You want to suck away all the happiness and joy in the world simply because you were denied your own. A secret chuckle escapes his lips as he points you to the raiding party preparing to depart. It was always going to end this way, with you begging to follow his footsteps of shadow. All he had to do was lure you onto the island and you did the rest. 

Praise the Lord

I felt the need to write something today and this came out. I really believe that no matter the religion or the act of worship being performed true faith is equal. To the Father the only thing that matters is the sincerity behind the action. That is what truly counts. 

Praise the Lord

People across time and space have found ways to

Remember and praise the Lord their god

All are unique but are they equal?

Is the faith different between a sacrifice and a song?

Satan would have us believe that yes there are levels of faith

Each act of worship is placed in a hierarchy

That we can be somehow unworthy of the Lord if we do not have faith enough

His love is not however dispersed in this juvenile way

Every act of praise is valued the same in His eyes

Little actions are equal to large

Over the course of a lifetime they simply add up to character

Real faith is not in the action it’s in the heart

Different though they seem, all true faith is equal

February 22, 2015

P.S. this poem is an acrostic meaning that the first letter of each line spell out a word or phrase. I love this style of poetry and if you will look back through my work you are sure to find others.