Not to Be Saved — But to Be Seen
I Fell Into Myself was never written to romanticise pain.
It was written to give what happens inside the body language and value.
The shaking hands.
The spiralling thoughts.
The nervous system stuck in survival mode long after the danger has passed.
The exhaustion that sits inside the bones.
The mind running in circles at 3am while the body carries the weight of every unspoken thing.
That is what sits at the heart of this collection.
Too often people are told:
“Get over it.”
“Move on.”
“Just take your meds and you’ll feel better.”
But trauma does not vanish because somebody else feels uncomfortable witnessing it.
Depression is not laziness.
Anxiety is not weakness.
Emotional overwhelm is not attention-seeking.
The body remembers.
The nervous system remembers.
And every lived experience has value, whether the world validates it or not.
That matters deeply to me.
Because many people spend years disconnected from themselves, questioning their own reality simply because others minimise what they feel internally.
I Fell Into Myself pushes against that silence.
The poems acknowledge the cycling thoughts, emotional crashes, hypervigilance, dissociation, numbness, grief, and the physical response the body carries during emotional episodes. Not as something shameful — but as something real.
Because if we experienced something, then it mattered.
Even if nobody else understood it.
Even if nobody else saw it properly.
This collection is not about being rescued.
It is about recognition.
About somebody reading a poem and realising:
“My mind does this too.”
“My body reacts like this too.”
“I’m not imagining it.”
There is power in naming what hurts.
Not because naming it magically fixes it — but because silence often makes people feel invisible.
And invisibility can become its own kind of suffering.
Stylistically, the collection stays stripped back and human. The pauses breathe naturally. The poems do not hide behind complicated language or over-polished structure. Emotion leads first.
That honesty matters to me as a dyslexic poet.
I do not want poetry that sounds untouchable.
I want poetry that feels alive.
Poetry that sits beside somebody in the dark without pretending to have all the answers.
At its core, I Fell Into Myself is about this simple truth:
Pain deserves acknowledgement.
The body deserves compassion.
And lived experience deserves to be treated as real.
I fell into myself not to be saved — but to be seen.
I Fell Into Myself is available now in paperback and Kindle.
You can explore more of my work through my Amazon Author Page
Thank you for reading.
Your DislexicPoet 🖤