The shaking,
I can feel it in my whole body and soul,
Is it nervousness?
A twitch?

I think it's more feeling the vibration of life,
Everything is moving,

So I call it the shaking,
A movement,
A groove,

It helps when i'm feeling uncertain,
Or am just feeling in a mood,

I shake, I twitch, I let it all out,

I flick, I move, I shake it all about.

Save your pleasantries for someone else.
Another innocent smile.
Another unexpected face.
Let them bask in the light,
Only to find the sun doesn't exist.

I have no more space in my heart,
For spontaneous gestures or overzealous words.
Take that love you fed me, and watch it implode.
You've harnessed the fission of a star.
Only to Supernova... Type 1A.

I've witnessed it all.
Forced it upon my eyes.
Believing that the truth was kept,
Secret through lies.

So tell me,
What am I missing?
As a human or just as a man?
Is it passion?
The thing that exists outside "me"?
I put it on the paper,
I don't wear it on my skin

I let words do the talking,
Without even a grin.
No, I'm much too secure.
Sure of my motives.
I know them thru and thru.
I'll never demote them.

Let me linger in solitude.
I'm never alone.
My sovereignty requires strength.
I won't be placed on your commode.

So, lean over and I'll whisper a secret to your ear.
Because without a whisper, you'll never hear.
The reason why I'll never change.
Because at the root, I'm never ashamed.
Just a little depressed.
Nothing more or less.

So carp all you want,
About your burdens and guilt.
I'll let the albatross fly from my sight.
Till it vanishes in the moonlit night

"Upon My Soul"


Upon my soul a vision hangs of death
I caress it with my heart
Folding myself into it          I touch god
The movement of flesh takes on meaning
Common     individual     human     meaning
We are not the final product

I once was able to run
nine miles a day,
now all those miles
seem so far away.

I am like a tree,
I am rooted where I stand
I am twisted up in unforgiving knots.

I know you think you understand,
but the truth is you don't
because you can move
and use your hands.

I am stuck twisted and contorted
in ways you could never understand.

My back is bent and rusted,
my knees creak and pop,
like an old car,
but I ran out of oil for my joints
now there stuck in odd positions.
You can only imagine.

I hurt, my pain burns to the bone,
grinding ******* my every move.

I can't move like you,
I twitch and ****,
I shake and stutter,
my mind is full of painful clutter.

Dystonia since 1981,
I was born with a twitch, ****,
and a stuttering switch with every move I make.
My nickname is Mizztwitch.*

*© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

This depression is my insanity.
It follows me,
watches my every move.
It hears every creak,
spies every movement,
never leaves me on my own.
It's my shadow.
I cannot get rid of it.
This depression is my insanity.
It molds me,
shapes me into it's darkness,
never letting me see the light.
It's a possession of the sickest kind.
It won't let me breathe.
It won't let me be.
This depression is my insanity.
It's my puppet master,
holding me by it's strings,
as it drags me along,
putting on a sick show for others all around.
My depression is my insanity.

Sometimes we don't see
           that which is brightest
before us.

         Only trying to stop,
                    when were already
static.