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I get you
we're one
I feel your essence
and you feel mine
and my loneliness
in crowded spaces
with eyes pretending
to understand my thinking
and my pain
and my mending
You get me
get my anger
and my shame
and my torment
and how everything hurts
my skin tense
like needles are stuck in it
and tearing it apart
and i think i exaggerate
and i make up things in my mind
to try and survive
all the horrible darkness
the average human knows
but you tell me
that it's fine
it is mine
I'll survive
day by day
step by step
and that this pain is real
though it can't be seen
and i tell myself that i fake it
but it causes me to cry
at random times at night
when all else is still
but all is blurry inside
and i get a sense of clarity
when i'm hurting
cause i'm trying
to make sense of my reality
and you get me
and it's alright
and we promise each other
we'll be fine
It really ***** when the pain you feel inside your head affects your body but the people you love still can't see it
They are doing their best
I always thought that I would be broken forever. I couldn't imagine a version of myself that wasn't sad, or lonely or constantly running... from something.

Today, I realized that I've made it.

It's a Friday night,
And I'm spending it alone.

But for once, I don't feel lonely.

I feel at peace.

I feel proud.

I made it out of that darkness.

And now,

I'm here,

Beautifully, unbroken.

-C.M.
brandy 2d
i remember this one conversation
with such clarity it alarms me
in the dead of night
with a longing for ecstasy
seeping through his tone he asked me,
"could..you imagine....what..life...would be like...if we weren't..mentally ill?"
and with that question
my hanging heart
sunk even lower into its pit
due to jealousy and frustration
for my cursed blessing
and i was confused on how
for i had believed my heart already laid
at what i'd thought to be
rock bottom
well besides that,
he did provoke me
to question
is there is a chance
for my heart to find
its rightful place
in my body
yet again?
and maybe along with it
all of my chemical receptors,
and my neurological network of pathways
could all find their own
harmonious balance and natural sources
of dopamine, serotonin, and epinephrine
and have them work "flaw"lessly  
just, way they were originally created to
when the goddess of mental
crafted these things with such care
and gifted those beautifully painful things
to humankind
****
the unholy things i'd do to obtain
the goddess of neurotypicality's
scientific? spiritual? situational?
whatever the **** is in her elixir of secret
for mental peace and serenity
that few were blessed with unconditionally
to me it just sounds like magic
but back to him the only way i could reply
was with,
"i could only dream"
for i believe
in a lifetime of mine past
i may may have made a deal
with the devil of neurodiversity,
a fallen angel without malice,
who simply forgot
to grant me the knowledge  
of how i would be reborn
into a world
where its society
would be unfit for me and my kind of mind
and with that thought lingering i added,
"but yeah...it must be nice"
try. to start loving yourself unconditionally and in entirety my dear, it's the very least of what you deserve, when you inhabit a world that will rarely show love or understanding to your uniquely beautiful soul. your road will be long, you will trip many times, and you will gather as many scars mental, as you possess physical.
but if you keep sailing through your hardships, you will eventually find your own way to keep wind in your sails, at some point in time during your story. i will always be proud when i see you inch forward into the unknown, and i pray you stick around, through your many obstacles, for your many turning points ahead. as those turning points are always the best part to any story plot when you look back from the future. please try to remember that turning points only follow major and minor falls (however you see fit to call them) or when the weight built up from the many falls in your past, start to feel like they're all crushing you at once.
there is always rain before there is sunshine. i beg you to try to hold on trough the storms until the clouds shift and the wind calms so that you can dance in the sunlight again. i promise you, you will dance again.
i just can't tell you exactly when
   ~The Devil of Neurodiversity
shuble 2d
my heart is made of stone
all these years you've broken through
my each and every bone

i have no love to give you,
my heartstrings are pulled taught
all the time that we have spent
will soon be all for naught

i have no love to give you,
i'm as empty as the sky
no love for you if i don't
even want to stay alive
i wish i could do more for you. i wish i could give you the love you somewhat deserve. but i don't have it in me anymore to deal with life, my mental health, and putting on a farce at the same time. i'm almost sorry for you, but you don't need my pity.
Cobweb corners
House friends of
Crooked faces
Watching from
Lopsided frames
Half covering holes
Gaping wounds
In these walls
Left haunted

©FaerieFoxPoetry
fireheart Jun 4
There’s
always one. A
solitary tear that I can't
hold back. One for each day,
That rolls down onto my pillow.
I worry, that if one more were
to fall, I would never be able
to stop the torrent that
would come after.
Ellie Sutton May 29
I always thought that
Solitary confinement
Couldn't be that bad
Leah Carr May 29
There's a gaping hole inside me
That no amount of anything can possibly fill
but the emptiness isn't just on the inside
it's wrapped around me
tight and suffocating
I gasp for breath
but the air vanished
leaving just a vast vacuum
full of...

      full of...
                    ..
                       .
Jade May 28
~
⚠️Trigger Warning: the following poem contains subject matter pertaining to self-harm and involuntary psychiatric hospitalization
⚠️
~
An emulation of the song Drunken Sailor by The Irish Rovers
~
what will they do with a maddened writer?
what will they do with a maddened writer?
what will they do with a maddened writer?

early in the morning

way hay and up she rises
way hay and up she rises
way hay and up she rises

early in the morning

cuts her wrists with a rusty razor
cuts her wrists with a rusty razor
cuts her wrists with a rusty razor

early in the morning

way hay and up she rises
way hay and up she rises
way hay and up she rises

early in the morning

put her in the 'sylum till she's sober
put her in the 'sylum till she's sober
put her in the 'sylum till she's sober

early in the morning

way hay and up she rises
way hay and up she rises
way hay and up she rises

early in the morning

stick her in the room with the padded walls
stick her in the room with the padded walls
stick her in the room with the padded walls

early in the morning

way hay and up she rises
way hay and up she rises
way hay and up she rises

early in the morning

put her in a bed with her limbs strapped down
put her  in a bed with her limbs strapped down
put her in a bed with her limbs strapped down

early in the morning

way hay and up she rises
way hay and up she rises
way hay and up she rises

early in the morning

that's what they do with  the maddened writer
that's what they do with the maddened writer
that's what they do with the maddened writer

early in the morning!
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Jay May 25
One more word, and I'll blow up.
One more day, and I'll grow up.
One more drink, and I'll throw up.
One more week, and I'll give up..

But words don't have to be said-,
Growing is an ongoing process,
Drinks don't have to be alcohol,
And help is easily available.

1-888-299-1188
You don't have to give up like me. We can work through this, okay?
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