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Manfred Kriger May 2021
Happiness  [Proper Noun] - The place where sadness no longer exists. Here I am  contempt, my roots are nourished and my mind converts criticism into serotonin.
RobbieG May 2021
Physically weak
Mentally unstable
Socially disturbed
Emotionally battered
Economically drained
Psychologically f**ked
Damaged goods I remain
Thank God, I love who I am
Because I feel no one else can
kenye May 2021
Tryna brave the belly of the beast
But this enemy of me
Has got hands-

I’ve never metaphor for anxiety
Like this one
Imposter syndrome-

I was only a dark forest away
from who I needed to be
But feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy
Are twisting clouds so forebodingly 

Mara’s army fires arrows
Raining streams of self-consciousness
Like I wasn’t ready to self destruct
on impact -
detonation

I laugh and share memes of self-deprecation
Social media the new god
Where we worship ourselves
By constantly trying to impress
everyone else

Venmo me Dopamine tributes
With the truth in a cave of
depression and
Isolation

Maybe Holly’s right
And I do need to be here
She shines the light
On the darkness
In the hospital wing
5th floor at Evanston
But I’m afraid I’ve grown too codependent
On this astral plane
I’ve projected
And romanticized
these Ambien nights
Only to awake neglected
Screaming out her name
In sleep paralysis
On a dark night-


When I’m manic
I try to live it out like I’m in a movie
Projecting inner struggles
As external conflicts
To make the scene more interesting
Until I’m in this final battle alone like Odysseus
Lost all my friends when the monster ate our ship and I took em for granted caught up
Between a rock and a hard place-
Depressed and Hyper-sexualization
when spring is here again

I’m in the first act dip
edging the ******-
Stimulating the simulation
elle jaxsun May 2021
i already miss flying
high above myself,
unaware of every ****
i should be giving.

i plant flowers in my
wounds instead,
fully aware—I feel them
grow from me
& bloom.

painful, beautiful.

and so powerful.

I used to find power in
deflecting
neglecting
rejecting &
subjecting myself.

healing is hurting.
healing is hurting.

hurt people hurt people.
but healed people heal people.
and maybe sometimes they’re the same person.
05/04/2021
el May 2021
like the blood that seeps
through the holes n gaps in my skin
i patch it up
with paper and tape
but what lays underneath
calls every blade to my skin
i try again
to keep it away
but it causes a hunger that's impossible to satisfy
in any other way

but maybe that's a story for another day.
tiredkoalahugs Apr 2021
I've gotten so used to loosing,
That now when I take,
The more my stomach waits.
Waits for me to fill this hole,
That I've created over months.
But I can no longer take.
Because the more I take,
The more I gain.
And the more I gain,
The more I hate,
Hate myself for taking the plate.
My Dear Poet Apr 2021
I want to hide in
someone else’s house
sleep in the retreat room
and be myself
wear a slipper
drink a cup of tea
lie back in their chair
and watch TV

I want to hide
in someone else’s house
spray some cologne
and be myself
look at photographs
forget about me
leave the noise outside
browse the library

I want to hide
in someone else’s house
deeper in the forest
and be myself
lost in their walls
as far as can be
maybe up in the attic
alone but free

I want to hide
In someone else’s house
look through the rooms
and find myself
if only I could
try find a key
for my own house
won’t house me

I want to hide
in someone else’s house
not be a Jesus,
just be myself
just another piece missing
like missing socks
still finding peace
being Goldilocks
I am being suffocated by pain
That demands to be felt
But refuses to acknowledge its origin or cause.
How do I tame a beast
Whose name I do not know?
This season always brings with it emotional turmoil,
The joys of daylight's manipulation of bipolar disorder,
But this creature that weighs down my chest
Has not uttered its name.
Like all demons,
It must be named to be exorcised,
And it will not be cowed by my speaking in tongues.
Back ye foul beast
From whence you came.
By hook or crook
I will learn your name.
The darker my dreams get
the less I look for the light.

I can only see the duality
between my perceived reality
and the one you present.

I wake from gravity slipping
from the rot surrounding me
where everything is meaningless
unless there's someone to tell you that it isn't.

where everything is meaningless
once someone tells you that you are
and it turns out to be true
because they’ve shown you the nature of man.
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