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& discord its own bop, but
tell the ego-dystonic writer,
their every word a hyperbole:

i’ve just died a thousand times
the pen that jots the hand
goes on, writhing

under light of every darkroom & fluorescent buzzing

static electricity
of compulsivity

itching against the fine hairs of my face
Alina Mar 21
My mind has faulty insulation, cracks for thoughts to creep in no matter how hard I try to block them out. Fractures as if from years of wear letting painful memories or cringing moments flood my head wreaking havoc as they soil it all. Regrets plague my conscience, stealing me from sleep, from peace. Keeping carefree out of my reach, to no end. No end in sight.

A.C.
Lydeen Dec 2020
Nighttime.
Cars light up my room.

I count.

The moon keeps me awake,
Beaconing.

I can hear you.

Telling me to do it-
Hurt me, you, them...

Everyone.

Thoughts SCREAMING.
Words begging to become actions.

I close my eyes.

Deep, deep, deep breath.
It's just a thought.

Grounded.

Soft sheets, pillows...
Moon, stars, lights.

It's quiet.
:-)
onyx Oct 2020
my mind
has parasites
they control
the way i
think, and
tell me to
do things i
don't want
to do .
it's like
two warring parts
of an intimate
*****, the
one that resides
in my skull
two forces of
opposite sides
pushing
against good
and evil .
and i am the
host
once full of life
now quite lifeless
as they take
me over
a shell .
i cannot think
my own thoughts
i cannot breathe my own air
if i fight with
them
they'll just
**** me
instead .
this poem is based off of intrusive thoughts.
(C) Elissar Mustapha
31/10/2020
Jane Jul 2020
I look, yet I'm blind,

I hear, but I'm deafened.

The radio static in my head is ever so lasting, unfailing.

I can rely on my instability,
my inquisitiveness turned to doubt.

I'm in love, but I can't love.
Have I ever learned to love?

I've always been loved, adored.
When did love become uncomfortable?

I'm the happiest I could've been,
but I'm blind to everything.

My strength is fragile,
I can't live like this.

I can't live when it's me who turns every drop of golden sunshine,
into tar.

Why can't I be happy?
Where are my screws loose?

Have I always been like this?
It can't be love that brought this out.

Something so pure, could not bring this out.

What is it like?
To not lead life with fear, paranoia and panic.

What is it like?
To wake up without sweat, a pounding heart, with a crowded head.

What is it like?
To love another, and oneself at the same time.

What is it like?
To not be me, to not live in constant torment.
Anxiety is the toxic friend you have.
Atlas Jul 2020
What will I do if all the time I’ve spent trying to fix myself doesn’t work out
I don’t really know what’s wrong with me
I’m in therapy
I started taking medication too
I’m worried that I’m wrong about how I feel
What if the thing I’m dealing with is much bigger
For half a year I’ve questioned myself
I thought I figured it all out
But there is doubt in the back of my mind
I don’t know if I’ll ever feel alright

There is nothing I can do
I don’t want to make any wrong moves
What if I’m wrong about all of this
And I make mistakes that are permanent
I just want to feel okay
And not want to die everyday
How do you sort through your thoughts
And figure out why you feel so stuck
On top of all this
I can’t cry anymore
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to
I wish everyday that I’ll reach my breaking point
Just to feel alive again
Finding joy in imaginary things
Feeling hurt by all the things I’m missing
Claira Lymei Jul 2020
I keep getting thoughts.
The bad, bad thoughts.
Fleeting, passing, ever changing?
I wish!
I keep getting thoughts.
The bad, bad, thoughts.
Sticking, clinging, ever staying.
I despair.
Bleach? Drink it.
Heart? Stab it.
Food? Puke it.
I keep getting thoughts.
The bad, bad thoughts.
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