I am under the microscope
I put myself here
I didn't know
How far it would go
Years in, and I am slowly dissected
Habits up for scrutiny
Emotions analyzed
Demeanor reviewed
Constantly screened
For any hint of disorder
Perhaps I am lucky
That help is at my finger tips
But it feels like a curse
When sickness is your soul
And it lives on through treatment
Through love
Through the microscope
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 2:16 AM UTC
We sit across from each other
Both occupied with electronic devices
Not talking
Though there is much to talk about
Hardly glancing
When comments are offered
Brief and lost on deaf ears
Bouncing off a hard surface
I can't talk to you
Because your ears are cement
And only mumbles make their way through
I have something important to say
But your ears are unavailable
So maybe it's not that important after all
I brim silently with feelings
No where to put them
You are already full of god knows what
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 2:09 AM UTC
Like pop up adds in my mind
Thoughts that carry hidden viruses
But act like click bate
Louring me in as if there is more to discover
But it's a trick
They hijack me
They pick me apart from the inside
Their constant stream of invasion
Wears me down to tears
But sleep doesn't come
To those that overthink
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 12:48 AM UTC
Anxiety rests heavy hands on my head
Molding my perception
With it's unrelenting pressure
I am left to wonder
Why I so acutely suffer
Do I deserve this?
For living in cognitive dissonance?
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 1:51 AM UTC
I'm an over flowing cup
I'm pasta boiling up
I'm over my head
Trying in water to tread
I'm pushing at the seams
Between reality and dreams
I'm rhyming for no reason
Except to mark the change of season
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 12:52 AM UTC
Watch my bones extrude
from a thin layer of flesh
stretched over my skeletal form
Is this what control looks like?
Is this how I want to present to the world?
impossibly small
startlingly small
Or should I take up space?
unapologetic and proud
That's the goal
that's the plan
tiny in the distance
a real destination
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 11:42 PM UTC
I am fighting
Naked and succumb by waves
That crash with relentless force
Over my body cold and shivering
Extremities going numb
I am fighting
It might look like I don't stand a chance
But I'll stand unwavering
Until the waves grow tired
Of trying to erode my human shape
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 11:31 PM UTC
I never feel that I am productive.
Not productive enough.
Change the world somehow, everyday.
Those are my standards and I have never met them.
So I have to sit with myself every night.
Feeling disappointment and self loathing.
"You didn't do anything great today,"
a voice taunts me.
"Why are you even here if you don't contribute."
But what is contribution really?
Can't it be small?
It has to be small because I can't make it big.
I have to learn to appreciate my small self.
If I make someone smile,
if I write a poem,
if I walk the dogs,
why can't those things count?
I have to learn to count them
because they are all I have.
I can't be great but I can be good in small ways
and who knows, maybe they will add up to great someday.
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 6:22 PM UTC
My days are made of moments.
My years are made of days.
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 11:52 PM UTC
******* food
It consumes me because I don't consume it
I'm so tired of the disorder
I've exhausted all the words around it
All these revolving door conversations
I have to eat my way out of this
That's the only way the topic will change
I have to eat to change my relationships
I can't wait for the day
That the topic changes
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 3:41 PM UTC