shitfaced - Hello Poetry

It's 2023 and I think everyone's tired of me not participating in Reality Get over it Get on with it Get through it It's time to be an adult again Alyssa, it's time to function. I didn't choose to do it I woke up like this Next to painful cognitive dissonance Im impregnated with self awareness that I'm stuck like this I left the name up to my therapist She calls it Dissociation Short for Borderline Psychosis I'm intelligent and keen to the shift In my brain I've learned to respond to my name But I can't control it At least now I'm aware of the present and that my presence is not present-tense Nor is it past-tense I'm alive and at the same time I feel non-existent What philosophy is this? What psychology is this? What conspiracy of reality have I disrupted and caused to shift Explain to me why mentally and physically I am disconnected I am just an entity I am a reduction of my humanity to the simple piece of machinery that thinks I am my thoughts observing and witnessing outside of the thing that gives my life meaning I am not one with my body I am just aimlessly floating In a plane of my suffering So vast and so deep My body rejected the parasitic entity that I refer to as "me" I've been ejected from the thing that gives me an identity My therapist calls it Dissociating. Convincing my physical being to accept me is easier than you think It's just that my thinking is cloudy I think too complexly I just need to eat You might assume that means My human needs that I need protein but once I eat and I'm full then you'll see It's my ego that was starving and the reason for any of my writing is to feed it the flattery it needs. It's only a matter of time before Dissociation wakes up from her sleep.

0

Nov 25, 2023

Nov 25, 2023 at 3:44 AM UTC

Dissociation is short for Psychosis

It's 2023 and I think everyone's tired of me not participating in Reality Get over it Get on with it Get through it It's time to be an adult again Alyssa, it's time to function. I didn't choose to do it I woke up like this Next to painful cognitive dissonance Im impregnated with self awareness that I'm stuck like this I left the name up to my therapist She calls it Dissociation Short for Borderline Psychosis I'm intelligent and keen to the shift In my brain I've learned to respond to my name But I can't control it At least now I'm aware of the present and that my presence is not present-tense Nor is it past-tense I'm alive and at the same time I feel non-existent What philosophy is this? What psychology is this? What conspiracy of reality have I disrupted and caused to shift Explain to me why mentally and physically I am disconnected I am just an entity I am a reduction of my humanity to the simple piece of machinery that thinks I am my thoughts observing and witnessing outside of the thing that gives my life meaning I am not one with my body I am just aimlessly floating In a plane of my suffering So vast and so deep My body rejected the parasitic entity that I refer to as "me" I've been ejected from the thing that gives me an identity My therapist calls it Dissociating. Convincing my physical being to accept me is easier than you think It's just that my thinking is cloudy I think too complexly I just need to eat You might assume that means My human needs that I need protein but once I eat and I'm full then you'll see It's my ego that was starving and the reason for any of my writing is to feed it the flattery it needs. It's only a matter of time before Dissociation wakes up from her sleep.

56

HELLO MOTHER HELLO FATHER SORRY IM THE DIFFICULT DAUGHTER CANT WAIT TO SHOW YOU ALL MY PROGRESS TO MAKE UP FOR 23 YEARS OF DISAPPOINTMENT

0

Apr 28, 2016

Apr 28, 2016 at 4:10 AM UTC

firstborn family ******

HELLO MOTHER HELLO FATHER SORRY IM THE DIFFICULT DAUGHTER CANT WAIT TO SHOW YOU ALL MY PROGRESS TO MAKE UP FOR 23 YEARS OF DISAPPOINTMENT

8

And if you wonder why the marks I left are still embedded with my finger prints it's because my presence there is fresh Like the smell of my perfume in his bed Like the loose strands of my hair from his hands on my face and my head I came before you did.

0

Apr 24, 2016

Apr 24, 2016 at 3:49 PM UTC

Second.

And if you wonder why the marks I left are still embedded with my finger prints it's because my presence there is fresh Like the smell of my perfume in his bed Like the loose strands of my hair from his hands on my face and my head I came before you did.

4

I wonder what it's like to go home with the one you love Instead of going home alone to spend each empty night on drugs I don't know much about affection when the wrong tolerance is tested I can handle almost anything except emotional investments.

0

Mar 10, 2016

Mar 10, 2016 at 9:57 PM UTC

You've got love and I've got drugs.

I wonder what it's like to go home with the one you love Instead of going home alone to spend each empty night on drugs I don't know much about affection when the wrong tolerance is tested I can handle almost anything except emotional investments.

4

How did I manage to be my own captive on a capsized ship I set sail on as captain Now i’m the spit of the sea on the shore of an island when the ocean tasted me she got violent

0

Feb 24, 2016

Feb 24, 2016 at 1:46 AM UTC

Set Sail/Shipwreck

How did I manage to be my own captive on a capsized ship I set sail on as captain Now i’m the spit of the sea on the shore of an island when the ocean tasted me she got violent

8

Rain is lightly kissing Earth and Earth is begging Rain to stay I'm learning how to be a sanguine Sun on somber days.

0

Feb 23, 2016

Feb 23, 2016 at 11:46 AM UTC

I mostly miss you in the morning.

Rain is lightly kissing Earth and Earth is begging Rain to stay I'm learning how to be a sanguine Sun on somber days.

2

Undress my existence Expose my bones Fix my fractures with kisses I want to be whole. Fulfill my little wishes Plant a garden in my skull Fall asleep beneath my ribcage Until it feels like home. In time, you will find The bend in my spine Like a crooked stack of books With my entire life defined.

0

Feb 11, 2016

Feb 11, 2016 at 3:43 AM UTC

Soft Love

Undress my existence Expose my bones Fix my fractures with kisses I want to be whole. Fulfill my little wishes Plant a garden in my skull Fall asleep beneath my ribcage Until it feels like home. In time, you will find The bend in my spine Like a crooked stack of books With my entire life defined.

12

I faintly hear the metal frame of a bed grind against springs and screws The sound of coming loose in the next room, both the bedframe and you i tried to find solace in the television screen but the only distraction it has to offer me is an uncomfortably relatable message that reads: “lost connection.” Im drunk again on a friend’s couch, keeping count of consecutive nights I’ve avoided my own house And my sobriety Pale ale prayers at four in the morning are the only times you’ll hear me confessing but not to god just another ceiling

0

Feb 9, 2016

Feb 9, 2016 at 4:29 AM UTC

pale ale prayers

I faintly hear the metal frame of a bed grind against springs and screws The sound of coming loose in the next room, both the bedframe and you i tried to find solace in the television screen but the only distraction it has to offer me is an uncomfortably relatable message that reads: “lost connection.” Im drunk again on a friend’s couch, keeping count of consecutive nights I’ve avoided my own house And my sobriety Pale ale prayers at four in the morning are the only times you’ll hear me confessing but not to god just another ceiling

7

A year is a long time to carry the weight of your name but i’ve brought it as far as we’ve drifted away Along with souvenirs of sentiment we shared before the shipwreck I kept all the things you left to sink and they make me ******* seasick An ocean apart now, a few times I near drowned trying to swallow old memories I should have just spit out. They burned like water in my lungs and turned to sea salt in my mouth that left a taste that stung my gums and made your name hard to keep down. A year is a long time to carry the weight of a name that won’t respond across an ocean between my voice and the person to which it belongs.

0

Feb 9, 2016

Feb 9, 2016 at 1:21 AM UTC

An Ocean Apart

A year is a long time to carry the weight of your name but i’ve brought it as far as we’ve drifted away Along with souvenirs of sentiment we shared before the shipwreck I kept all the things you left to sink and they make me ******* seasick An ocean apart now, a few times I near drowned trying to swallow old memories I should have just spit out. They burned like water in my lungs and turned to sea salt in my mouth that left a taste that stung my gums and made your name hard to keep down. A year is a long time to carry the weight of a name that won’t respond across an ocean between my voice and the person to which it belongs.

10