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karly Oct 2020
There is a person I try to forget,
Shoved in the back of my mind.
The old me.
The one who used to be happy
Who used to be fun
Who used to be able to fall asleep
without crying
or music
or some other crutch
and I just...
I just want that person back.
so I've been super stressed out lately to the point where I lay in bed sobbing with my head mashed into my pillow so that no one can hear me, so I posted something on my c story and a kid I babysit for slid up and was like "are you ok" and so I told him what was happening and he sent a video of his sweet little brother saying "Hello, don't be sad" and his face was so close to the camera and his sweet little face made me cry but it like made me happy at the same time so now I'm having like mixed emotions, like I'm crying quietly and thinking of the video and smiling, my life makes no sense.
Mrs Timetable Sep 2020
Fashioning a new crutch
For one’s old crutch

Might never heal
One’s achilles heel
Said the Psychiatrist Orthopedic Podiatrist Therapist
Shaun Aug 2020
I take my pills to subside the pain,
But the dark clouds are just waiting to rain,
Therapy appointments medication and all,
They are like my crutches without them I fall,
My mind goes at such a pace,
But it’s loosing in a one man race,
Competing with myself to change who I am,
I’ve tried so hard I don’t know if I can,
They say death isn’t the answer then we’ll what is,
I’m dead inside hate and feeling like this
Please feel free to comment positively or negitively aslong as it’s constructive, feel free to share
TD May 2020
I am weaker than I seem—
a product of what will never be..
my crutch hewn from the cypress tree.

As I journey such deceptive trails
along cratered depths and rocky ground
life is swollen—there—sorrows abound.

Tottering amid the dips and turns
a babe in armor while guardians stalk
my lame feet stumble—walk.

The gnarled companion
wizened with age.
He battles on while trials rage.

I couldn’t preview
such an upper hand
my knees too spindly for me to stand.

On my own
I fail the storm
my cypress crutch—lukewarm.

But take it in
a desperate grip
it becomes a stewards ship.

And knights
my weighted shoulders light.
He storms the shores beyond my sight.

I’ll take my crutch
He’ll take the blame.
And I’ll never be the same.

Thank God.
His cause was written before my name.
ryn Jan 2019
Will you be the ears?
The ears to my words.

Will you be the eyes?
The eyes to my falls.

Will you be the shoulder?
To which I depend on.

Will you be the listener?
And hear my calls.
Bobcat Aug 2018
You can say that I'm a little out of touch
I fell down but I can't climb back up
None of my friends give a ****
I guess I'm **** out of luck.

If I'm not feeling blue I dont feel much
I know they'll tell me to **** it up
Moving on is just hard as ****
I'm tired of being down on my luck.

Its like holding in the clutch
I press the gas but just rev up
Going nowhere fast my motor is ******
I blew a gasket, yeah just my luck.

I hope I won't always need a crutch
I need motivation to just wake up
Get me a drink until I don't give a ****
I guess I've been making my own bad luck.
Ryan Hoysan Apr 2018
Who was your ******* rock? The one you relied on when others relied on you? I was the keystone who kept you together and kept the others together unbeknownst to them. I was the bandage sealing the wound from the bacteria of the world, from the ill thoughts and mean-spirited things of the world. I was your ******* crutch that supported you and helped you stand upright in this world. But just like a crutch, like a bandage, I was discarded once the problem was summarily handled. I hope you bleed out next time.
This is the first thing I've written in months. Nothing like anger to make someone impassioned, heh? Either way, I just had to get something out or this was going to eat me up.
Cana Feb 2018
It’s been two days since I saw your name
My heart falls into my stomach whenever I do.
I turn to my crutches and hope they fill the hole inside me.
They don’t though
Very few things do anymore.
Writing helps, though I shouldn’t indulge this emotion. Not like this.
It’s been two days since my soul rebelled.
I hope it comes home soon.
My body can’t sustain
Apologies for this. I had to get it off my chest though. It’s this way, *** or stronger things. It would appear there isn’t enough *** in the world anymore and I’d prefer to not dive down that other hole again.
Attie Sep 2017
promises of love
and dediction
we believe we are grown
but inside of us
just under the surface
is a child wanting to be comforted
to be loved
so we hide this part of us
the colours in our mind slowly dying
because they say to keep something maintained you
must nourish it
but the nourishment we need
is rare
and this makes our palettes grey
resorting to unorthodox versions of what we need
crutches and supports
that people refuse to speak about
the childhood friend
that moved away
when you were young
unable to cohere as to why
they couldn't stay
wrapped in the dreamland
of explosive joy
so many people
write about love with
a joint
a crutch

i don't have a crutch
and i don't have a crush
and two negatives equal a positive
so what does this poem even mean?
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