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Sofia Von  Dec 2011
Alone
Sofia Von Dec 2011
Hidden from the burden of conversation, you graze your toe across a rock
-- slice.

Pain, creeping  
wrapping its hot oils up your calf
it hurts more

no one wants to share

who understands?
don't be silly!
you’re on your own now
no one will be calling your name

So desperate

for a box you search
to hide your grief, happiness, and doubts in

some are presented with one
a carved handmade one
with gold outlines
who knows how they got one

the unlucky stumble upon the rich boxes of others
smothering them with inpatient finger prints of hope
but why
why they plead
in their constant prayers

why must they have the ***** leftovers
the cups recycled
used in a previous place for ***** samples

too small even for three people

they clean it and make due
what else can they do

Wait.
that’s what

But. Why?
are they not worthy?
ugly?
already fortunate?

I guess that works

and most are happy with it
see it around them
everybody has a *** cup

but what happens when everyone gets lucky?

You hide Envy?

no ignorant ones

Alone.
Ocho the Owl Oct 2013
109
So ******* lucky
To be the person I am
Be as you are

90
Flying in the air
Notes ebb and flow
So sweetly

124
In her arms
She gently caresses
My beating heart

125
Listen carefully
The universe whispers
Through wind, rain, and heart

126
Frantic I am
Inpatient, frustrated
Reason? Unknown

127
The thoughts, words
Trickle slowly from above
Below and within

119
Unfolding slowly
My buds reach for the sky
And gasp for water

120
Delicate, open
Seeking the next level
My roots deepen

106
Tremendously
Shy, empathic, bold
Beautiful brownie

115
Accepting, gentle
Shrewd, candid, brilliant
Little ‘ol me

116
I’ve come to
Expect; unexpected
Events always

107
I am spring
Shining, bright, lucid
Ready to blossom

112*
I accept you
Exactly as you are
Perfect, flawless, you
Sjr1000 Apr 2015
Depersonalization
Derealization
Dissociation
Delusional
Hallucina­tions
Confabulation
Perseveration
persevered.

Clanging
Rhyming
E­cholalia
echolalia.

Paranoia
Ideas of reference
Thought blocking
Internal stimuli
Thought broadcasting
heard
every way
every day.

Mental disorders
or
poets extraordinary

The Paiute anthropologist
locked up on the
inpatient unit
with visions of the ancestors
dancing in his eyes
said
"See these folks
you have locked up,
In ancient days
from the desert hills
they came our way
delivered truths
in their special way.

"Once they had their say
On desert winds
they blew back
up to their hills
away
straight away. "
"Can you please
give me the keys.
I've said what
I had to say. "
Smoot  Feb 2011
Lustful
Smoot Feb 2011
The Idea of you was lust
Now like a unwanted pimple its time for this season of my life to bust.
No trust,
Between us
Because your obsession isn't killing us, it's me.
While you ****** me your looking for your next victim.
Rusting of the metal that melted us as one
I scream to escape while my body remains in its vegetated state
While loved ones hold heated debates on what treatment I should take.
Inpatient or out seems like either route It's no end to the insanity of a strong hold
No goal
Seems attainable
No moments of being free from the chains you keep around me.
The gag between my teeth keeps your control over me.
Sean Flaherty Apr 2014
Twenty classless, eight cigarettes. 
Fighting over the radio at the 
Inpatient Mental Health Facility, 
A broken sense of belonging, 
And a dearth of veggie burgers. 

Listless with his lists, of course. 
Angst from the Anglophile, unable to 
Put a stopper in the pouring, 
Bleeding emotions. 
Open hands 
Stained red, and brown. 
Three breaks a day, scarring his 
Broken knuckles, they paint the walls. 

Code Smoking Gun, 
Code Smoking Green, 
Manic man, loading his shoulders with his 
Father’s burden, too big for Atlas’s arms, 
Or his mother’s shunning palms. 

Three breaks a day, 
Knee, shoulder, hip. 
The coffee’s decaf 
But your calves? Well, 
They’re just sore. 

They dish the brick every 
Other evening. But living, for 
No light, only serves to lessen your 
Love of life and make you 
Light-headed.

Broken beds with rock-solid
Pillows. Three breaks a day to
Remind you of your regression. We
Want you here as much.
Why’re you whining?

Busy doctors bust the doors, thank 
God for the freedom, the 
Fluorescent finish to your odyssey. The 
Flowers and grass greet you in 
Shades of pink and green your 
Greedy eyes hadn’t seen. 
Exhale. Ghost out your grieving.
Spent a bit of time "healing" in a "hospital."
The world is but an oyster
which we all are forced to inhabit
in a scramble of arms, legs and meaningful dreams.
A disaster in the wake.
A broken-hearted fowl.
A disinterested love interest
with a clasp on the bitter reality of rain clouds and hurricanes.
We lie in the waiting,
tell truth in the rush,
inpatient,
immoral.
We never really understood the world and how it rolls.
raiiindrops  Nov 2013
sunshine
raiiindrops Nov 2013
When I was admitted to the hospital 1 month ago in as inpatient, there was a 17 year old girl, lets call her sunshine, (I decided to call her this while telling this story so I would not give away her real name). I was always full of energy when all the patients did groups on self esteem and such, or played cards in the unit lounge. But inside I was dying, to get out of there, and dying to die. Sunshine was there for drug overdose, similar to me. Things she said always brightened my day, made me happy inside and out, she's a sweetheart. We had to do a "check-in" sheet every morning at 9am, after breakfast. It asked us various questions such as, "Rate your mood from 1-10", "Name three positive things that happened yesterday", "What's your goal for today and three ways you can achieve it?". Sunshine always had the same answer for the last question, "Just be". Her ways to achieve it were "Peace, love and good vibes". The staff never liked her answers. She did have her violent days, but she did have a positive impact on everyone around her. I love her so much, I don't know what I'd do if she wasn't at the hospital when I was. When you have nothing left, "Just be"
Jen Grimes Sep 2014
Hospital walls get tired
And colors
They become dry
After a while
The memories fade
But sometimes they crash and fall
Like tidal waves
Striking my heart
As if one blow
Wasn’t enough to impede
My hearts beating
Again and again
They hammer
Their words
Down my throat
And a girl can only swallow
So much
Before she breaks
ern kingham Jun 2015
The instructor said,
    Go home and write
    a page tonight.
    And let that page come out of you—
    Then, it will be true.
I wonder if life could really be that simple?
I am twenty, confused, and clinically depressed
I went to therapy, then to inpatient, and now I’m home
to this house that I’ve known since birth,
Depression is not the only thing I feel, so it is not all of me.
But the path down this road has been long, and dark,
Going up hills and making turns, that got me lost sometimes,
But I’m starting to see the light of day,
Everything happens for a reason they say.
My journey isn’t over yet, but I’ll tell you what I’ve learned:

I’m not easy to understand, but nobody is,
at twenty, my age. But I know I am not  just what
I feel and see and hear. Instead I am also  what
I think, and say, and do. Aren’t we all?
The things that define me, aren’t only in my head.
They can be read, and heard, and seen,
My words spoken out loud, or written down are
The decisions I make, such as letting go, or fighting;
Telling a truth, or a lie;  giving, or taking
I guess having depression doesn’t make me a good or bad person
Despite my disorder, I make ordinary choices.
So will my definition of me be alright,
Even if it means, I’m not always delighted to be here.
But I will be here
Just like you are, instructor.
You might be happy with life---
Yet you have your troubles, just as I have mine.
That’s human.
Perhaps you don’t want to be a part of some sad occasions,
Nor do I often want to be a part of them either.
But we are, and that’s life!
As I learn from my mistakes and hard times,
I guess you learn from yours—
although you’re older—and wiser—
and I have less life experience than you.
Justin  Sep 2013
Redeem
Justin Sep 2013
Im sick
Of hiding behind the fence
Of normality
When you get down to reality
Everyone is either slightly closer
To either
Normality
Or
Insanity
Which are you!?
Go by inspirations?
NO **** THAT! HATE YOUR INSPIRATIONS!!
Impire yourself to become an inspiration
And to make other ******* weaklings
to kiss you *** to try to get tips out of you
Amd when that day comes
You simply give them the same tips i gave you
BREAK RULES
GET MAD
GET INPATIENT
DO STUPID MEANINGLESS ****
AND LEARN RATHER THAN FEEL PITY FOR YOUR SELF
FALL
RECOVER
HEAL
LEARN
AND REPEAT
Until the day youre inspired to inspire
The person you are today will ALWAYS know more therefore be wiser THEREFORE be better and closer to perfection than the person you were yesterday
Show people you can
Show people you would
Amd show people you could
So you say to yourself
I will redeem
Redeem i shall
and redeem YOU WILL!
I promise you my fellow freind
Everyone who stood by your redemption
Will love the new you
And everone who left
Will miss the new you
Do NOT invite them back

F.C

— The End —