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grave May 23
there is a man in my mind
and i call him steve
from this man
i wish to be relieved
the things that he says are things
no man should say
but these are words that simply
do not go away

this man, steve, tells me to make others hurt
this man, steve, tells me to put my hand down your skirt
he tells me that being with my is your corruption
that our relationship will be your destruction

but i know that i love you
and from what you show, you feel the same
but i have been stuck with this man
in his silly little game

for so long.
please get steve away from me.
im tired.
i hope to write more optimistic poetry someday but for now i need to express the things in my mind that aren’t supposed to be there.
to the skinny girls
who taunted me for years
with your catcalling and put downs

please know you didn’t make me this way

**** it if you think I’m giving you that power
**** it if you think I will let that victory be yours

my brain is more complex, works deeper,  
than a simple desire to be YOU

believe me, I’ve flirted with it,
thinking you were all I ever wanted to be

but believe me now when I say that
you are not the cause of my empty plate

so run along and feed your ego elsewhere
because I refuse to feed it
by letting you believe

that I am the way I am
because I want to be one of you
Venting about my ED and bullying
The tree is dancing and flickering
Like some computer glitch,
ANd the sound of fpptstops trail me,
Doors shutting,
Chairs scraping,
Dogs barking in an otherwise empty house.
I do not know how to sav myself from this
Remix of unreal and reality,
Just hiding blasting music
Trying to drown out the sound of someone trying to **** me.
The figurine of the pink power ranger rests under my pillow while I try to sleep,
Guardian, protector,
Save me.
I do not want to listen to my thoughts.
They hurt adn conjure things,
Enamored of death or a way out of this hell.
At night I dream
Of people stealing the earrings out of mye ears
And hundreds of people chanting my name.
No matter where I run, they call me.
Even hiding amongst the frogs brings no relief
As their Ribbits shout my name from behinf the bushes.
Save me from this hell, my mind.
I don't want to listen to it.
I don't want to die.
theres a pack rat in my stomach
grabbing reason to starve myself

counting calories and carbs
till I think I might pass out

though logic is no burden
that mouse if knows my routes

knows the miles, knows the steps
that I’ll take for a piece of chocolate

and every night I try to cough it out
to purge it from rotting gut

they say this rat is life threatening
and that I can finally see

because one day I’ll feel it
tearing through this wasting body

there’s a pack rat in my stomach
grabbing reasons to starve myself
Peris Wambui Apr 22

At chasm,
Far deep abyss of despair,
Soaked gloomy atmosphere,
In a vague sparkle,
Arrested were my eyes to see,
My numb feelings jolted,
Salvation without sanatory,
I felt a new being resurrect,
Couldn't hold my feelings anymore,
I wasn't in control.

I was flummoxed,
Something I couldn't explain in fistful words,
Something hadn't felt for long,
Something my heart had long lost tune to,
Nearer I drew stuck,
Pootled in with mixed feelings.

With a gaze of his eyes,
I saw him,
Charismatic inclination,
I could no longer fight my thoughts,
A nightmare all was like alike,
A place of no return in flames,
In his world, I buried my thoughts,
In an ocean of love, lost I was.

Love at first sight the moment,
but wished to be a forever sight,
For in the stars in his eyes,
Was the forever in my heart,

My eyes craved his to see,
My heart wished to rewrite what I thought was lost,
My mind desired to rescript new memories,
To see the beauty in his soul,
Stretching out deep into him,
Dancing in our love,

In his cologne,
He became my body best scent,
Everyday, wishing he'd touch me more and more,
Dining in the thoughts of,
the grab that  I would give him when he is digging deep into me to satisfaction,

An overdose of him I took,
An obsession in my addiction,
That derived me numb,

He was the star that shone among the moons,
A star that had come to recollect my heart's broken pieces together,
To recolor my planet with colors of hope,
To refill it with diamonds where nothing fitted in,

But, the more I fell for him,
the more we drifted apart,
The more it hit me,
we were of two different World's,
Flowing in a whirl of perplexed events,

War of hearts, 
Clashes of cerebrations,
Fight between reality and delusion,
Conflict between heart's feelings and mind's instincts.

Reflection of his face,
Oceans and skies,
Space between fate and destiny,
Fantastical design,
Delusional exception,
Deception world of thoughts,
Dinning imagination,
Mental pictures,
confined behind my desires and wishes.


©tiana..❣ ft. A
N Apr 13
the number lowers
bit by bit
it is never enough
it will never be enough
not until my body is perfect
and i’m light as a feather
floating up into the sky
goodbye world.
N Apr 13
a reluctant smile as
her eyes made of glass
fixate on the plate in front of her
she is a void
needs something to fill the emptiness
both in her body
and spirit.
Grace Haak Apr 5
I knew it was bad when my fingernails were ringed
with red
as I ran them over ribbons and excused myself
from confetti cake to make them

my head was burning
a sparkling candle burning
my hands were yearning
a spazzing sticking yearning

my family was singing
a muffled stifling singing
my ears were ringing
a loud ear-piercing ringing

stop stop stop my scalp is stinging

Nothing was clear until my fingernails
were red
and coated with pieces of my head:
rubbed raw and picked clean
You’re telling me
this is something you haven’t seen?

It doesn’t make sense because:
I don’t put pencils in a perfect pristine line
I don’t count my cheerios before I can dine
I can turn the lights on and off just fine
but my fingernails
are red
and apparently that’s a sign.

I can tell you where
every single pinprick lives
and spreads fire down my scalp
into my brain
How it tells me
your math homework can wait
save me
or you’ll go insane

My nails are short
but still red
My brain is intact
but still missing its head

Oh, how I could See the Disorder in a
demented disturbed decision
to forfeit my favorite vanilla cake
for blood

stop stop stop, i’m begging you, brain

you can’t stop; you know you need pain
leave me alone, and you’ll go insane.
A line to define us is what you imagine,
When you hear the words,
Autism Spectrum Disorder,
It generally happens.

You place us in order,
Based on our physical representation,
And here come the words that I must slaughter,
Before you draw this misrepresentation.

We are not,
The terms ‘high functioning’,
Or ‘low functioning’,
In fact this is actually quite impolite.
To give a more representable label,
Please use the terms,
Severe Autism,
Or mild.

Every autistic person,
Has a different set of strengths and needs,
So do not presume the ‘functioning’ term,
As it tends to arrange and mistreat,
Every autistic person,
Who experiences challenges,
In different versions.

With these terms,
We have created the gap between neurotypicals and the autistic on our own.
When after all,
A better understanding is all we need to be realistic,
Because we all share the same bones.

So, no two people you meet with autism,
Are categorically the same.
We are a spectrum of many beautiful colours,
And we are all here to play the same game.
There are multiple areas where we can succeed,
And just like you,
Others, where we are not so great.
- Bethany Collery -
@poetry.bethanycollery on IG
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