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V Feb 2018
Dear you in the mirror,
I don't understand;
Why?

Sincerely,
Myself on the other side.
Struggles with BDD
Fritzi Melendez Feb 2018
I'm trying hard to run to catch the firefly as the night stalls.
Emitting such a beautiful pastel blue light, the size of an 8 ball.
The closer I get, the faster it darts away.
I can try to sleep, but I feel too jittery to lay.
Silly little bug, I just want to catch you!
I want to put you in my mason jar and stare into your orb of baby blue.
I...
Almost...
Got...
You...
...
Stop making me run so much, I keep tripping...
I can feel the grass under my feet tipping.

You're at the grasp of my fingertips as you taunt me with your flickering light.
I stand on my tippy toes and reach up into the night.

I'm...
Almost...
There...
...
But you fly away into the vent.
Why won't you come to me? I'll even pay your rent!
Am I doing something wrong?
I can attempt to sing you a lullaby song...
...But you still won't come out of there.
I shake my head and brush away my hair.
I take a deep sigh and see you as a loss cause.
I take a step and fall onto my knees, immediately looking up and I pause.
I'm in my room as my skin breaks and bleeds.
You fly across my face one more time in an evil attempt to tease.

Stupid...- Wait, this isn't what my real eyes see.
I look in the mirror and there She is, staring back at me.

...It wasn't real, right? It was just my imagination?
****... why does this keep happening again?

   b
               e
                                      c
     a
                                                          u
                        s
e          

y                            
                              o
  u

d                
         ­                                             o
               n
'    
                                                                ­                    t                        

                  ­         l
i              
               s      
                                                 t
e                ­          
                    n
.
I thought I saw a firefly fly around my room last night. I saw Her again.
Dawn Treader Feb 2018
Fortuitously my memories are stumbled upon,
Like smooth river rocks beneath the flow of a gentle stream,
Triggered by an anomaly in the day,
A bump in the pavement,
A loud bang,
A missed step up a flight of stairs causing a momentary stumble.
The provocation for today was innocent:
My feet pushing against the artificial pavement--the treadmill
Memories seemingly harmless take a dark turn.
I'm now running down memory lane,
A dark well once thought empty,
Gushes forth with a violent burst.
Some memories, especially violent ones, call for severance,
Or the mind will deteriorate.
Heavy breath, sweat cascading down my brow,
This is the only time I can feel her talk to me,
You see, she and I are disconnected;
And we have been for quite some time,
I increase speed, not listening to her cries,
She pleads with me to stop, I ignore her.
The only acknowledgement she gives is a stabbing sensation,
She reminds me I have a heart and lungs,
She tells me I am alive.
My body and my mind are two separate beings,
One within the other,
Like oil and water,
We do not mix.
My body and mind are two very distinct beings, and they often quarrel.  I cannot explain the feeling of disconnect other than I can only feel my body if she is in distress.  This is usually triggered by exercise.
Nayana Nair Jan 2018
Would people have been more kinder
and affectionate,
if only the world didn’t misunderstand
niceness on a daily basis?
How come we live with such a distorted view
that we are afraid of being good to each other?
From the fear of being judged.
From the fear of being ridiculed.
From the fear of being burdened forever.
From the fear of being taken advantage of.
From the fear of being looked down on.
Charlotte Ivy Oct 2017
You're a piece of my dad
Sometimes I find him in your laugh
But then your smile goes crooked and your "bugs" act up again
You find clarity for a moment and then your thoughts become distorted
Was the habit to hard to break or did you think the promises I made for you were fake  
You always told me every day to never give up why can you not wake up
Dad, Jake.. ?
What's your name ?
I feel like we're strangers and I feel like your love was fake
You took a piece of my sister's away and for that I'll never forgive you
Can't you see your own ****** mistakes
You're blind and they were right you are a snake
You fried your brains and I'm afraid it's to late
I can't save you unless you want to be saved
Mims Oct 2016
I'm not sure who I am yet,
I'm sure where I'm going,
I don't know if I'll ever be,
Really truly me,
We spend our time inventing ourselves,
And i guess I'm just spare parts,
The way my mind thinks,
Music is my art,
A titles half the story,
A picture worth a thousand words,
I've spent my life regretting,
And feeling no self worth,
I've gotten sick and tired,
Of being sick and tired,
I've felt the way we all we feel,
At 3am alone.
I've started to stay on the internet,
Into wee hours of the morning,
Gathering scattered information.
I see my week,
A flashing blurr of distorted colors,
Emotions whirling everywhere,
Trailing one another,
I'm not sure where I'm going,
Or if you'll follow me,
I'm not sure of my roots,
If I was planted like a tree,
I haven't spent much time,
Inventing myself,
Not as much as wishing I was someone else,
But it is time to own up to,
The real and true me,
And maybe then I'll understand....

Who I'm supposed to be
i just don't know
Poetic T Jul 2016
Little rag doll in poses I place, smiles non linear
lipstick is smeared not as it should be perfection
is not on the features as statically smiling.

Meagerly patched doll how you are in my thoughts.
Knotted hair ill placed bobbles that don't show
the best of the features frozen on your hollow face.

mismatched clothes not in a way a woman of choosing
would place, odd socks an ankle one, poppy long stocking
contrasting is size and colour but you'll never know.

I look at you, a Picasso of imagery displaced on your face.
Looking like you got dressed in the closet blindfolded and
alone. My little rag doll I strategic leave in a lonely place.

I collect these porcine eyes drained of essence, I open
your thoughts and they are discarded in a bag.
Later your thoughts will feed my hungry dog.

I leave you empty vacant as you should be, my rag doll
with uninhabited motivation. hollowed shell of what you
used to be, blank stares between you and me go silently.

They find my dolls in there houses distorted like my
vison of how sights are seen. A play house of disillusion,
my dolls are my creations come will you be a rag doll for me.
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