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my brain and my mind
separate my soul and its role
make me look and it took
every chance or significance
I ask or I mask
to decide the inside
flavor or fervor
compare or contrast
order or ardor
the first or the last
wrong or strong
right or tight
completed or depleted
shaded or faded
feeling or failing
painting or fainting
listen or christen
sarcasm or orgasm
sore or soar
less or more
to live or to leave
to die or to try
white silver bullets
barrage the trees and the roof
in chaotic sound
despite our defense constructs
it always ends to the ground
Eleanor 2h
It’s like I’m sitting, watching a love scene in a movie where teens are driving and swimming and laughing and I'm immersed and enjoying it, but then the harsh, violently, fluorescent lights behind me turn on and the director yells “Cut!” and my brain is hijacked by a new reality of fake. lonely, nothingness.
That is depression.
kerri 3h
that’s the thing about people,
you only know the side they choose to show you
they may have been good to you,
but they may have also done the worst to someone else
that’s life’s tragic irony
Everything is fine right now and yet it feels like everything is not fine at all.
I have cried twice in the last 24 hours over stupid things and I've been pulling out my hair nonstop.
I can't get enough sleep, I'm constantly yawning, and I've been angry for no reason.
Today I convinced myself that I'm as fat as the girl on the show I was watching and literally felt frozen in fear in the gas station bathroom because I felt like what I was wearing was too revealing and made me look like a whale.
So I tried to get outside to my car as fast as I could, but a guy leaving in front of me blocked me from getting out the door as quickly as I wanted.
When I made it to the safety of my Ford explorer I felt like he did that on purpose. (Which is ridiculous)
I don't know what's wrong with me, but clearly my depression & anxiety are coming out of hiding, and I wish they would fuck off.
fuck,
I saw you liked an insta post on
something that I might have done long ago
and you even commented on it and now I don't know
if you're annoyed with me or if you want me to go
but I'm already far away and each and every day
I've been staring at the wall for all the hours I'm awake
you're occupied with your school work
trying to pass the time
and I can't even write you a song because my
poems rarely rhyme.
I keep wondering if I did something to make you not like me
but it's kinda hard to fuck things up when all I do is sleep.
I know it's my anxiety that makes me feel like this
but just this afternoon I wrote a paper about your kiss
it's probably a piece of shit that never could compare to
the way you make me feel, I could never even dare
to try to put exactly what you mean to me into words
and I'm sorry that I'm paranoid
I think I'm getting worse.
I feel really ill
m 5h
i've been having a difficult time
deciphering fact from fiction and fiction from
dreams i had when i was a child,
the percolation of the cells
in my chest grow heavy, enormous,
even,
pushing into my throat these
cries for anything
but drowning, anything but
tornadoes all alone,
but awkward kisses and tear-stained
celestial sheets of cotton.
where is my passion? have they taken it all?
was all that blood i've shed a lie?
do i want to end up dead?
i thought intellectual stimulants
and forced photographs in front
of that fountain, again,
could be enough to elevate my senses
back to reality, but i have only
learned how to decorate the darkness,
to numb the throbbing thoughts,
to stuff full the leaking veins of
love and lust and lost breaths,
enough to get out of bed
and into his or his or his
because i remember this place
from a dream i had as a child
and it hurts, i hurt, you hurt,
i smile and ask for more
anxiety attack
X
A poet society,
I write life not anxiety..

These permanent words,
On impermanent feelings..

Like seeds,
Begin hard..
Needing proper soil and water,
Solar energy for the bloom.

I write these words so you may know,
We too feel the same..
Even if unspoken.

And if we disagree,
Find another poet to light your Christmas tree..
Or at least heed my perspective as I did yours.

My mind travels full circle,
Only to express what is in the center of me..
Or slightly off.

Wherever you can find heart.

All hearts are not created equal.
Forgive me..

All hearts are created equal,
Yet some will grow while others shrivel..
Similar to the mind.

What separates us from the trees is we can always choose our source,

Always..

Anyone who tells you differently,
Walk away swiftly..

Hopefully one day they may free themselves,
From their own self imposed prison.

Too many sit behind closed doors,
Not knowing they need no key for the lock..
Half the time we don't even need a clock.

Waiting for that certain moment...

If you're waiting,
You may keep waiting..

There is a difference from being persistently patient.

If you're moving forward I adore you..
Leave a mark so I know we've shared the same path.

These writings are my X for the next,

Traveling through these caves of life..

As we defer deaths draft.
i wrote a book called Too Much Water Will Kill The Flower. i hope you read it, love it, and add it to your collection of the best books ever written. it should be out this month or early october on amazon but if you're really interested pm me and i'll email it to you. if you're a prisoner of your mind please set yourself free
There was a time I came late and walked into a class of ten,
while the rest were down for recess.
I had just gotten pills for anxiety and mild depression from a doctor I just met.
And in that moment, in the class, I just wanted to be held.
But you didn't see me, you were laughing at the back with a friend.

I couldn't contain my feelings so I turned around and tried to run,
but two steps out of the classroom, I fell on my knees and simply broke down.
The pain was so bad, I tried to stop it, but I couldn't.
It was stabbing at my chest and my tears were rolling down.

But a group of girls came around and they put their arms around me.
All I remember was wanting to scream, I was gasping for air.
They carried me up and walked me back into the class of only ten.
The cold air in the room just made everything worse.
Then again my tears rolled down but this time you saw the mess.
I looked up at your face, pushed people away and I ran.

I slammed the door of the cubicle, fell once again on my knees.
Then I heard the footsteps of people running, followed by the banging against the door.
They were asking the obvious; if I was doing okay.
Even a fool would know that was not what I needed.

I got out of the space after all of them left,
To look into the mirror at my swollen face and what a mess I turned into.
My eyes were red, and my heart was throbbing and I felt a fever coming on.
My ponytail a mess, my hands were shaking and I was still gasping for air.

I walked out like that, as everything was hard to bear.
And at the corner, you were there.
It hurt me so much cause you were staring, you saw for the first time just how weak I was.
But what you said didn't help, like the rest, "Are you okay?".

I was going to open up and tell you everything I was going through in hope that you could help me.
But I lied, and instead, said my grand was in her dying days.
I broke down once again at the words I just let out and fell into the arms of the person I just lied to.

I just wished you had held me without saying a word,
and gave me that warmth that I needed cause I felt so cold.
It was bad, it was so so painful
and if by chance you come to read this, now you know.
This is a true story about what happened back then. It was rough patch and I was searching for a hand to hold. But there was no one and I'm glad I got through it myself
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