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Thomas W Case Feb 24
My alter ego,
Thomas, seems to have the same problem I do.
He's in the hospital withdrawing from alcohol, and also has politicians
taking refuge under his bed.
The lice in Donald's Trump's hair
have demanded rice for breakfast
and it's 4:00 in the afternoon.
Bernie Sanders is under their clamoring free medical care for everybody, but every time I put the nurses light on and tell them what's going on they say no one's under the bed. I think they're in on it.  If this doesn't stop the doctors will think I'm crazy, but we know who the crazy ones are. Right?
I wrote this a few months ago, the last time I was in the hospital.
Thomas W Case Jan 10
If you're wondering why there's so many typos? I'm in the hospital,
Benzo'd out and on phenobarbital.
But I guess it's better than hammered drunk at home trying to give the cat a bath.
He doesn't like that band The Allman Brothers which I Blair at the side of the tub and he tends to scratch me
even with the Mr. bubble bath. Now I'll try to watch the Redskin buccaneer game, they'll always be the Redskins to me. But that could just be the benzos talking
Jack Torrance Nov 2019
This anxiety,
is making me anxious.
Feeding itself,
until it becomes dangerous.

It’s PTSD,
of some varying degree.
Each startup and failure,
taking its toll on me.

The inability to remember,
the pain and the fear.
Forgetting the scars,
that should be so clear.

The voice in your head,
reassuring you.
Saying this time will be different,
when you know it’s not true.

Louder and louder,
till it starts to scream.
Your anxiety grows,
and splits at the seam.

Then you give in,
letting go at last.
The voice takes control,
and repeats the past.

Another, another!!
It screams in a growl.
More, more!!
A predator on the prowl.

Then it is gone,
and you’re just floating there.
Trying to make sense of things,
trying to be aware.

Then it all crashes down,
and you’re drowning in hate.
You’re full of self loathing,
and memories that exacerbate.

Now the long road ahead,
seems to have no end.
Your chest hurts so bad,
and the tremors set in.

You can’t eat or sleep,
so you traumatize your brain.
You’re scared you might die,
but you’re more scared of the pain.

Four days and you’re better,
but the memories end.
Then that tiny voice,
starts to whisper again.

Over and over,
rinse and repeat.
Slowly killing yourself,
for a small fix of heat.
Mystic Ink Plus Aug 2019
I'm blah blah blah
What do you do for a living?
If asked

Beside maintaining
Homeostasis
Nothing more

Just reply
Genre: Clinical Raw
Theme: Breathing Air
Thrystan Tate Aug 2019
Face your fears.  Face your tears.  Face your future.  Face your years.
Face your heart aches.  Face your pain.  Face the trauma you've faced again.
Facebook.  FaceTime. Face-to-Face.  Oh the places you will go when you satisfy a face.
If only I could be in the field with Rumi, with my soul in the grass.
I'll be there very soon.  I just removed my face-mask.
By:  Thrystan Tate
Luvanna Jun 2019
In my dream last night
I was blunt and brave
I have my own voice
In my dream last night
I wasn't afraid to stand alone
And made my own decisions
In my dream last night
I was a puppet who finally cut free
From the strings controlling my behaviour
And have my own muscles
In my dream last night
I have my own capitalized 'I'
kat victoria Apr 2019
i’ve been waking up in a cold sweat
from dreams about details
i haven’t thought of in years.
i’ve been having withdrawals
from seeing the dead space
you took up when you were here.
my hands have been shaking
from you making your way
out of my bloodstream.
i have hallucinated
your silhouette down the hall
three times this week.
and i’m sick to my stomach
from fragments of memories
that i thought we’re already lost.
but this is finally it.
this is the detox.
Faryal Apr 2019
water
a place for a lemon to make lemonade
Maybe add all this sugar
it’s cheat day today
and it’s your birthday

Sweet tooth to being smooth
Just speak the truth
and you’ll be cool
nobody likes liars

lets talk about what’s required
Lemons are just a mock to limes
how actors are a mock to mimes
but that’s off topic lets get back to limes

limes are chill
and they’re not like that bitter person you see on the street
it’s like a treat
lime water is fresh
but here’s the twist to this whole poem
you know what actually sounds better?
a watermelo
Luna Wrenn Mar 2019
my heart was started to skip beats
my hands trembling
my head was spinning
sweating
nausea
lethargic
every noise i heard started to
sound like nails on a chalk board
i was confused
i reached for a body that was no longer settled into my sheets
as the pupils of my amber colored eyes had dilated
i was seeing double of you
was this a nightmare
i was detaching from you
my drug
with drawls had begun
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