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I could say when it started; I could feign confidence in this place, in the hour. The truth is, I could sail on the rolling tides of time and I'd still yet never move in a straight line. That's how it's always been - like a clock that lags a split second longer on even numbers, and pauses to scrutinize the odd. Like standing in a crowd, waving to a friend you don't remember meeting. Reading words that make no sense to anyone but their writer, or knowing those words are your own; my own. Words where meaning has been lost, a dying light I never got the chance to experience. One day, I will experience it.
And to speak of glacial pace; a moment to rest, but unsparing to change.
I have yet to leave, so I'll stay.
Victoria Feb 25
I think my favorite feeling is being outside feeling wind on my face, just staring up at the sky. I love how the clouds dance and the birds tease me, Oh how my heart longs to be that free.
Maybe one day when i’m better my feet will lift off the ground and I will float away and be with the clouds. Watching as everything gets smaller and smaller while my mind goes silent, maybe then I’ll finally feel some peace.
Shaylie Jan 26
I cant muster the energy to look
At myself in the mirror
But people still expect me
To lift my feet
To lift my head

I wont wash a dish,
I certainly dont look at the clothes,
I cancel my plans last minute when I should have just said no,
I think my friends are conspiring against me,
And I cant leave my husband alone, what if he finds someone else better equip for our home.

I cant muster the energy to look at myself in the mirror,
But I still get up,
I still get up and go to work,
I am just waiting for the time
Time to pass me by

I'm running out of energy for these cycles
Im running out of energy waiting on my energy
I am in deep water, with crashing waves
Everytime I stand
I am knocked back down
Gulping for air
Only getting more water
Waiting to tumble back to the surface

I cant muster the energy to look at myself in the ******* mirror.
Depression, BPD
Hello Daisies Nov 2018
Pink is fun
Pink is bright
Pink is light

I desire to be free
I desire to be soft
I desire to be love
I desire to be pink

Blue is sad
Blue is chilly
Blue is not silly
Blue is melancholy

Sometimes I'm down
Sometimes I'm raining
Sometimes I'm drained
Sometimes I'm blue

Black is dark
Black is depressed
Black is colorless

I don't want to be soulless
I don't want to hate
I don't want to dissociate
I don't want black
Ive been feeling emotions in colors lately and pink is what i want but black and blue is how i feel
moon child Jul 2018

Envelopes me as I
drift off

Specs Jun 2018

Whenever I see the word “noon”
I sit and I stare at it.
Logically, I know that it’s spelt right,
But the perfect palindromous parallel
Just looks wrong.

Sometimes in band, I hear a sound
And it’s just not right.
Logically, I know that it’s fine,
But the slight tremor torturing the technique
Just sounds wrong.

Sometimes I see myself in the mirror
And I don’t recognize me.
Logically, I know the body I see is me,
But the soul inside is suffocatingly stifled,
And I feel wrong.
Alice Lovey Apr 2018
Dispassionately cast with no compass to live,
I dwindle like the stars that die, transmissive.
This depth is cold without you or the love I invented.
I embraced it, despite on me you've been imperfectly imprinted and indented.

Take me or leave me, anything to fill that void.
Every intimacy and secret which you've ever enjoyed.
You've spent time designing black holes of savage ruination,
Dying light that spirals into native perturbation,
Inside the one who'd always, and still, followed.
Idly droning black ink... How will we fair tomorrow?

Chasing you, a fading eclipse,
Orbiting that star no one can see.
In a vast, open nothingness, with an only invisible me.

The hot tails of asteroids burn it away.
You had warned me of them, but I never turned to stray.
From a promise, for myself, to inspire the brightest brilliance.
To think I'd been so audacious to assume my own resilience.
The transformation and expansion of what's more massive than us,
I can't possibly predict what may become of scattered dust.
Sienna Mar 2018
Cold washes over
descending lower and lower
I grip onto my own being
but rejected again, I can't stop seeing
please take out my eyes, take out my mind
Shaking and bending
No concept of time
The sore returns, replacing my spine
I beg and I plead, give me a sign
I cannot seem to get out of my mind
But despite it all
I'll still manage to say,
"I'm just fine"
Sienna Mar 2018
Drifting away
in a day
can't focus now;
can't seem to stay.
Dissociating when it's not okay;
people everywhere,
yet the feeling isn't sought.
I'm shaking in past,
feeling distraught.
I am here, but I am not.
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