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Maybe some of us aren’t meant for “great things”
Maybe some of us are just meant to survive.

And maybe that’s the great thing in itself;
To survive an unsurvivable mind.
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.
For a long time I told lies to myself
“This, like all things, will pass--resolved in peace”
Shallow and external, to me I must delve
Our brains are best when they thrive off creases

Don’t flatline, but keep the rhythm steady
All chaotic tunes are written with notes
Tune your instrument, your voice, be ready
Self expression is what keeps us afloat

See good in the world and let it seep in
Only then will you know your own justice
Walk with your demons, holy in your sin
Find truth to be free from your prejudice

And most of all, keep up contradictions
We are sustained by the spark of frictions
Betty Mar 29
We have to deal with the emotion
and the fear we have built up in over a year
of being inside
the internal wrecking ball we try to hide
from our nearest and our dearest
when on zoom
as we try to pretend that they are in the room
so now we get to meet in the sun
and to have a little fun, from a distance
at the insistance of the men in grey
who are supposed to be leading the way
back to reality and some form of normality
will we make it this time
climb up and out
lose the doubt and the lack of trust
I guess we must
learn to smile
but it might take a while
So pleased to see the UK out in the spring sunshine today, but it has left me really anxious because I so want it to last for everyone. Think it is going to be some time before I can trust again.
Beckie Davies Mar 29
I'm glad that I don't have a mental illness
Those people are an incredible drain
A drain on society
A burden to carry
Something to be cruelly thrown away
I'm glad that I don't have a mental illness
I'm glad that I am perfectly sane
I had to watch this depressing man crying on the train
I heard that he went and hung himself
That's the pathetic nature of mental health
I'm glad that isn't me
It will never be
For I am mentally healthy with not a scrap of empathy!
for i am mentally healthy with not a scrap of empathy!
No one Mar 28
He slithered out of my hands again,
right when I thought I caught him.
It was my fault for loosening my grip,
for trusting his word on a whim.
Soon the game starts back up again,
the chances of winning are always slim.
Except I don't want to play anymore
because he always has to cheat to win.
Plus he never follows the simplest rule,
and throws a fit whenever he does lose.
He just want me to take what he dishes out,
he likes when I smile through the abuse.
He likes me trapped and backed in a corner,
he needs to take away my right to choose.
Then he’ll blame it on his sickness again,
that’s always his go to excuse.
I hear voices...
soft and delicate
guiding and guarding
that are mine, and mine

I keep them close to my heart,
like lovers
caress them
whisper kindnesses
and promises to never betray them

and how could I?
these soft, sweet kisses from a world unknown
this loving embrace from a body

secrets shared in darkness
with only the flicker of a candle flame for warmth

I will keep you, sweet nothings,
mounting up to everything
that is mine, and mine alone
Megan Mar 28
Feed me meaning and resilience
The bitter sweet,
Social validation
With thorns around my skull

Addicted to your thought.
Addicted to a corpse.
Addicted to the stories.
Feeling under valued
Like a statue, I feel it all

Today I surrender,
And set an intention.
Be wide open
to less,
Social Validation.
A powerful, slow curse
"It's in your head"
Mumbling truths...I rehearse
I religiously chant my lines
but it gets worse
Obsession, you are mine
in this entire universe
His5Her is a series of poems with different points of view of fictional people.
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