In metaphors


What is depression like?

You know how a flower’s delicate petals wilt when exposed to too much sunlight? How, if left unattended, they’ll crumble in your hands?

Remember just how easy it is to forget that the kitchen tap is running? You might not realize until the bubbles blow up like a hot air balloon and trail to the floor,

Or how a cigarette starts to disintegrate within seconds of shaking hands with a flame?

I’m a car revved up for a road trip on a quarter tank of gas,

an 800-page book with too small of a font for anyone to read.

I’m an undercapacity human who wishes she didn’t have to describe her life in metaphors.

For more original poetry, follow me on Instagram @creationsbyjayda



A friend, a daughter, a sister.

She grinned ear to ear until she was alone–her danger zone.

Where she collected beer tabs and hid empty prescription bottles under the bed.

What was spinning in her head? I question.

All I know is that the signs felt like pinches

until they slapped me in the face.

Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention:

  • Ten people will lose their lives today by suicide in Canada.
  • In 2016, there were 3,926 suicides in Canada.
  • Men are three times more likely to die by suicide, although women are three times more likely to try.
For more original poetry, follow me on Instagram @creationsbyjayda.

One Night


L i s t e n.

Your scent wafts too many regrets for my heart to possibly grip…

but I know how to cure this:

we’ll lock ourselves away for a night

and I’ll inhale your sweet smell like it’s the only oxygen here.

These walls hold no boundaries.

For more original poetry, follow me on Instagram @creationsbyjayda.



I hope

that my swollen hands

can give you constant forgiveness.


I only dream

that you will look at

my wrinkled face

the same way.


I know that

what will never be enough

is offering you my infiniteness.


But when

the days turn to memories,

the fire becomes dust,

we become each other’s airways,


I hope, above everything,

you will see that my harmony

comes from the home I’ve found

within you.

For more original poetry, follow me on Instagram @creationsbyjayda.

Paramedics & PTSD


The blood sticks to the cement,

yet it’s clear it came from a now lifeless body…

The in between stage of wet and crumbling.

The 7-year-old sways like he’s taunting me,

like he’s my own.

He’ll be in my sleep tonight

and I’ll terrifyingly go check on my son

to make sure he’s okay.

He will be; I won’t.

Centre for Suicide Prevention: first responders, trauma & suicide

  • 2 per cent of Canadians will experience PTSD, opposed to 22 per cent of paramedics
  • first responders experience PTSD two times the rate of the average population
  • In 2018, a total of 22 suicides were reported of first responders, with paramedics at the highest of eight
For more original poetry, follow me on Instagram @creationsbyjayda.