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Pr nandni Jul 11
The excursion of a mother commences when she EMBRACES the child as a boon,
A life long relevance emanated from your WOMB..
To enter into this wicked world i took a gap ,
To comprehend the despicable i stayed in your lap....

I ****** her blood, changed her appetite
I was no more than a PARASITE
She supplied me TONES of calcium
All my skeleton , all my FLESH she owns
She ENDURED those mood swings ,
Nausea, vomiting that i brought
He was expecting his heredity, his PRIDE
She was HAPPY that i exist,
She loved me from very start
I stole her breathe , but she embraced my heart......

From 1st trimester, because of her my heart is BEATING
If i didn't love her back that would be a CHEATING

A sense of TRUST that can't be broken ,
A depth of love sometimes UNSPOKEN....
You SACRIFICED yourself to evolve me like our heart as ONE ,,,,
A link that can never be UNDONE...
Every time you realise how intelligent you are ,think about your mother. How brilliant is she, and imagine how much more she could done if she got that chance !
Somewhere we are also responsible for her stalled career ...
but we hesitate to even express our gratitude to her.....
I may be an odd ball but I will make the ground beneath me crack open from my rage. I find that when I fight a war wits, the Earth Bites Back. Doctors in psychology, medical, therapeutic and logic all agree that I am crazy and insane. I have been through all of the scans, x-rays and tests for mental health. I have medications for my bipolar disorder and my high functioning sociopath-ness. The meds don't take away my creativity nor my high strung rebelliousness. I know how to take care of myself. My psychotic break was the worst thing to go through. I don't have all of my memories from that summer. I know how to decode my literary codes from that summer. I remember the mood swings, the restless nights, going to the hospital, my mom freaking out and me having no idea what was going on. That summer is all a fever dream to me.
The Earth Bites Back what some call crazy, I call genius.
The Earth Bites Back, I don't plan on relapsing my psychotic break.
Mentally, I sound like an alcoholic, too much stimuli and I am everywhere either too high or too low. The fall and winter depression is the worst too. All of the crying, all of the misery, all of the dreary overthinking and all of the sulking over the past.
Zoe Grace Jun 5
Who knew I could be so
L
              O
                              W
But so
                                   H
                      G
           I
H
at the same time?  

It seems like my emotions are chosen at
               R                                      D
    N                    

                                      A
            
             O
                                                M
sometimes, my moods go

up
     and
            down
      like
this

but usually, my moods go

HSHEHESGUDHAKDODJSBSJSOALJDVSJSJDHSHIDIEKSHDHWOPWORKWNBDBVXKSLW­ORIUEUWYSHWBWKEKRJBEBD
my first happy poem ever lol
J Nov 2020
Shut up for once, with your arguments about how I'm not listening. I feel as if all I ever do is listen. You shouldn't assume things about me, you don't know me the way you think you do. You don't know me. I'm thinking about things that should make me cry, but they seem right for now. They seem good to think about. I will cry and whine and scream about being alone, but this is not an invitation to console me. No, I believe that the urge for you is long gone. You're upset, I cradle I adore I try to help. I'm hurt, and you open the message and drop off the face of the earth. RED FLAG RED FLAG RED FLAG. Please, stop acting as if I'm hurting you. Stop pretending that I'm the bad guy. Guess what? I have a right to feel this way. "My past" you offer when I'm mad at you. "My past makes me feel this way." But if I ever? Oh, ** **! If I dare use that? "don't use your past as an excuse to be a ****** person." You may have gone through some hard ****, Frenchie. But so did I. But you wouldn't know that, would you? OH, SURE! You know about my grandfather, who doesn't? What else? Do you know anything else? Of course not. Not much, not that I remember just yet. Why's that? why don't you know? Because I've come to realize that talking to you is near pointless.
  But you wouldn't get that, right? Even if I wrote novels upon novels, trying to let you get me, begging for you to read, you wouldn't get it. You call me close-minded all of the time. "you'd make a terrible president." Remember? I do. I try to remember everything. Just so I make sure not to make mistakes. You call me close-minded, and yet the moment anything I should/try to talk about is brought up, you disappear. But then you get mad at me for not being able to open up... hmm. I reckon it's my past, yes? I think that maybe it's my past, Sydney. OH? But you'd understand this, hm? HA! AS IF. As if you'd ******* care as if you ******* care. "You know I care about you more than I probably should, right?" Shut up.  You don't care. I know you don't. (my my my, you sound toxic, J) IM ******! ****** AND HURT! AND ALONE! OH? You're drunk, aren't you? Haven't you been? Your friends said so, the ones you've kissed, the ones you've kissed! Drunk, drunk, drunk, they message me, you in the background on your phone. Drinking, drinking drinking, smoke a bowl or seven, and who knows what else? Perhaps a massive ****, right? With your friends that you've kissed before. I'd know, I have the videos of it. But if I even mention someone I've kissed, what do you do? Blank face, play "****** on my mind" until the guilt makes me shut up, smile, change the subject. OH! The friends you've kissed, the friends you've kissed, the friends you've kissed, they text back so easily, I just wanted to see how your day was, how did you sleep, I just want to love you. Don't act like you're the victim here, don't ******* act like this. I asked how your day was, I asked how your day was, I only wanted to know how your ******* day was! Why is it that you leave me on seen? I asked how your day was, how did you sleep? "I'm with friends." "oh, I'm sorry love, I love you, stay safe." hm? and then what? opened 12 hours ago. I said I loved you I said I loved you I said I loved you. So why is it that when I post on my story about watching Twilight because I'm lonely, mostly a joke, halfway true, you're mad? Am I not allowed to feel alone, with the "opened 12 hours ago" sign blinking, screaming, at me, blinding me with its neon talons when it takes flight into dearest memory lane? Oh! MY EYES! THEY TEAR MY EYES, MY EYES! I'M BLIND! I'm BLEEDING! WILL I EVER SEE?
   Am I not allowed to feel that way? Am I not allowed to feel? a l o n e? Is that it? How is it that you can message me from your other account, what are you doing on there? You have another account, what do you do there? Oh, I sound toxic. It's my past, Sydney, it's my past!! Ha! WHY ARE YOU MAD AT ME BEING ALONE! Tell me, I've forgotten, are feelings not allowed? I think that I remember that part of my past, don't feel things. Punish them, punish me, yes? Ignore me for a while, I spoke out against you. IM SORRY JUSTIN IM SORRY JUSTIN I AM SORRY!
   I think you forget that I'm often alone, so why is it that you're mad at me? I'm alone with these thoughts, thoughts like people in a crowd, I sit in the corner, but I know they're all talking about me. Oh, I am alone. With these people who offer to help. HOW DARE THEY? I swat away their hand. ******* ******* *******! You don't know me. you don't know me. YOU CAN'T HELP ME! I'm alone. "I'm always here for you." I know it's wrong of me to believe you, I need you often, there's something wrong with me. Maybe it's my past, hm, maybe it's my past. Sometimes I can't breathe in enough air, I gasp, my lungs fill, my body expands, yet it is not enough. I can't breathe enough, I'm not breathing enough, DONT PANIC DONT PANIC DONT PANIC! ****! Crazy ***** is going through another episode, give them more pills. I CAN'T GO BACK TO THAT PLACE, OH THEY SCREAM TOO MUCH! Why are you mad? Why are you mad at me? What did I do? Did I feel wrong?
  Are you mad? At? Me? For being? Alone? When it is you that's left me. You decided to stop responding, give up, give in, move along with your day. My days aren't as productive. I'm nothing, just a lazy ***, my father says. (having your rights debated is always a fun exercise.) You get angry so often, I shouldn't feel this way? I SHOULDN'T FEEL LIKE THIS! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT "THIS" IS! As ******' if you'd get what's going on in my head, yes? Hell, Sydney, you hardly know what's going on in your head, right? But let me help you, yeah? Like you want? Like you need me to? Like you ask me to and then get mad if I can't, right? Am I right? Am I right? Am I right?
  Tell me, why'd you only ever call me when you're high?
  OH! IS IT SO HARD TO TEXT ME THROUGHOUT THE DAY? Shut up, J, she's not obligated to text you. Now you're just being silly. I leave you on seen for a minute, right? So then you ******* up, and then your mood switches and you get mad at me. OH ** **! You leave for half a day, and then more because now I reckon we aren't on talking terms, at least not on my side for a while. After all, now I need to think and make a decision, and then have the audacity to be mad at me because I feel.. a l o n e? Excuse me. EXCUSE ME EXCUSE ME EXCUSE ME! IT'S PART OF MY PAST HAH! Shut up, I hate that excuse of yours. Do you remember? "Stop using your mental illnesses as an excuse for being a ****** person" do you remember that? I do. Guess what? I can. I CAN USE THEM AS AN EXCUSE, IT LITERALLY IS AN EXCUSE, I CANNOT HELP HOW I FEEL! I CANNOT HELP HOW I FEEL! I CANNOT HELP hOW I FEEL! I feel things! Different from what you do, they do, anyone does. I FEEL .. OTHER! THINGS!..as if you'd get that, yes? I'm lonely. I'm "utterly" alone, as I often am, BUT WHY! WHY ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME FEEL AWFUL FOR IT? I can't feel things without you getting so upset at me. My mental state is ****, oh but you never see it do you? Years of practice, my love. And yet you claim to be able to read me, yes? I hate you. I do, my darling, I despise you. You sicken me, give me a kiss, yeah?
  "You don't deserve words." someone told me today. It wouldn't have bothered me on any other occasion,  I would have laughed it off and gave a smart *** return, but now? Now it's cutting my arms. Oh, ** **! is it? I'm against the bed, "IT'S ALIVE IT'S ALIVE!" It isn't. It has my hands tied, and I'm naked- minus the face of absolute horror and fear. OH? Is it you who wields the blade? No, though I wouldn't be surprised if it were. Nathan does, he holds this dagger against my neck. Don't deserve words, does that mean I don't deserve to talk? Or don't deserve to hear? Regardless, my neck is slit, and he plays with my vocal cords. STRUM STRUM, VIBRATO! Whammy bar, buuurruuruuhhhh! The flesh of my wrists then split from the strings of sound, muscles move underneath, he pokes them and they recoil, I flex and we stare in aw. A third arm reaches from my hand, dropping a heart that it picked up along the way onto my chest, I choke on the length of said arm, I cry, but it's too late, the blood is internal. It grabs an arm, and suddenly I'm tearing myself apart. I become a fish, I strip myself of useless skin! OH? because I DON'T DESERVE WORDS. and yet I feel like I should tell everyone else words all of the time. Chatterbox! Wow, don't I talk way too much!
  WHY AM I TYPING? WHY HAVEN'T YOU APOLOGIZED. Perhaps it is I who is in the wrong, though, yes? You're with friends you're with friends you're with friends. So I should calm down, but that doesn't make feeling alone any less lonely, I'm alone, I'm alone, I'm ALONE. And I think that maybe I'm allowed to be. because it's lonely. when you've been left on opened 12 hours ago.
When I'm mad, I call her Sydney. It's still Frenchie. Update, we've been together for a little over a month, got together October third. I know this sounds toxic, but I'm just ****** and had to get it out. I have yet to hear from her, but hey if she leaves, I'll just write again.
maybe. I'm being overdramatic, I'm sorry for that, but this seems real for me, so maybe it's real. update: I wrote this at like midnight. then she called me at six in the morning talking about how she loved me and all this **** and how she had a nightmare and now I'm going to ******* scream.
Yashita Oct 2020
My syndrome is a trigger
My mood swings, the gun
Victim, prey and dear
Is my poor head
Carrying the basket of an emotional rollercoaster
One without all the fun
With recurrent depressive episodes
Haunting day and nights
Visiting me fortnightly
Dragging me to the edge of losing it all
In addition, not a single person around me
Knows how it actually feels to feel this way
My episodes are just a show
They have all watched on repeat
Without knowing and understanding
As a standby on the road
Of my moods dragging me to the abyss
Flashes of anger bursting like crackers
And I cover myself
Sit like a baby protecting myself from the harm
I cause to self
When anger is chasing me
As if we are playing bandhi chain
I, the last person to catch
My mood swings seem this desperate
I lose my calm too often
Find me into a pond of tears
My mind becomes a maze
All the endings closed
I struggle, I shout and cry
Hopelessly!
The window of opportunity
I have to create
Started building a castle of health
Hope in heart
To finish and relax in my castle
One day with peace.
LS Martin Oct 2020
Words go past me but I don't hear them
People wave at me but I don't see them
Thoughts run through me like a dream
with darkness following...

.... Then suddenly the world is filled with
vibrant hues of technicolor
My eyes once damp with tears dilate with the cosmic energy of the stars
All my troubles far in the distance
nothing can touch me
I feel power inside me
Why bend the knee to the arms of an angry God?
When you can pay worship to the temple of my body?
Though I am drenched with blood and sin
my heart is fragile with expectation
Ahmer Sep 2020
They’ve now become a prominent part
To reflect the lessons which life has taught!

Too happy or too sad,its going to e changed
Wherever it does, Whatever it takes!

Don’t keep in mind what you’ve gone thru
Just do the things which were right to do!

Never be afraid to pick the right and drop the wrong
Even if it risks your life and takes you down

Keep in guard what matters the most
From the evil eyes and the -ve thoughts

Whatever you do, do it with passion
Live with dignity and die in salvation.
Hello everyone!
Since I am a beginner,there must be a lotta mistakes. Do let me know where to focus and what to improve.
Thank you.
Mark Toney Jun 2020

………………………………………………………………
H
Ha
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Happy
Happy o
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Happy or de
Happy or dep
Happy or depr
Happy or depres
Happy or depress
Happy or depresse
Happy or depressed
Happy or depresse
Happy or depress
Happy or depres
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Happy or
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H
L
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Life
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Life is
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Life is a b
Life is a ba
Life is a bal
Life is a bala
Life is a balan
Life is a balanc
Life is a balanci
Life is a balancin
Life is a balancing
Life is a balancing a
Life is a balancing ac
Life is a balancing act
Life is a balancing ac
Life is a balancing a
Life is a balancing
Life is a balancin
Life is a balanci
Life is a balanc
Life is a balan
Life is a bala
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So easy to slip and
So easy to slip and f
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So easy to slip and fal
So easy to slip and fall
So easy to slip and fal
So easy to slip and fa
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So easy to slip and
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M
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Moods that fall c
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Moods that fall can
Moods that fall can r
Moods that fall can ri
Moods that fall can ris
Moods that fall can rise
Moods that fall can rise a
Moods that fall can rise ag
Moods that fall can rise aga
Moods that fall can rise agai
Moods that fall can rise again
Moods that fall can rise agai
Moods that fall can rise aga
Moods that fall can rise ag
Moods that fall can rise a
Moods that fall can rise
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Wait for tomorrow’s new day
6/21/2020 - Poetry form: Shape - This was inspired by fellow HelloPoetry poet Riley Cartwright’s shape poem “The Music in My Head.” Thank you, Riley - © 2020 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.
Yashita May 2020
I become a ticking time bomb
Right when my mood swings
Starts to play hide and seek with me
It shows up at my doorstep
Enters without even a ring
I am not afraid of it not knocking
Before entering my sacred space
For the person I become after
My mood swings play with me
Like I am a Voodoo doll to it
Moulding me into shapes or figures
That will hurt me and leave a scar
Drives me like it's favourite car on road
Just with one not so decent surprise
It drives me with alcohol brimming out
Certainly, I am vicariously liable for all
Although, there is no time leash
Mood swings leave the home
When it has done enough damage
Sometimes even beyond repair
Tying my hands tight with remorse
That I am unable to mend
I am out of control
When my mood swings kick in
As soon as I calm down after its departure
My real life and damage
Starts to punch in my gut real bad
I am in an endless struggle with it.
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