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She Writes Dec 2017
Anxiety
Fear Nausea
Pacing Crying Nervous
Sleeping Eating or Lack Thereof
Restless Worry Panic
Distress Mistrust
Suffering
A diamanté poem about anxiety.
ab Dec 2017
the envy of water is truer than i
ever imagined it being. i can look
through you, i can see the charade
you are playing every moment

i reminded you i existed under
you, that i needed air and room
to breathe in the starlight of his
voice and the thickness of the sky

and i see you push me away, repress
me further into oblivion until i cannot
see the light for which i yearn, the
dampness of a tomb is all which reaches

this far down. and i know that to you-
and for you- at least this time, i am small
and insignificant. you are afraid of me and
the voice i possess and the cracks in your shield.

you can't put me away for much longer.
not unless you want to wonder why i
am around every corner shaking you until
you are afraid to move, why i cannot stop

thumping on your chest until the hurricane
on your tongue hushes itself and dissolves
into a perpetual calm, or why the mildness
of winter can't invoke a reaction anymore.

you colored me a funny shade
of aquamarine

but you faded me out until
i was more infinity than ivory.
~gosh gosh gosh gosh
ab Nov 2017
there is so much i'm afraid to ask you.

i want to know what it means
when it feels like a knife's blade
is trailing down your back whenever
anyone says ma'am or miss
but it doesn't carve into your flesh
the way you'd assume it might

i want to understand why i want
to carve and shape my chest
but don't mind if my curves stay
if it means i could wear a corset
and compress the rest of my body

i want to know why i am afraid to tell you
even though you're my best friend
and i know that you understand
and i know that you're here for me
but i'm afraid you will think
i am making it up as i go, like this
hasn't been long enough

but i have known something was wrong
for over a year

i didn't talk to you much then
even though i knew you for years

but i couldn't figure out why i was scared
why i am scared
why i have been scared of myself
and my body
and my mind
and i don't know where i am or what i'm doing
but i'm scared if i tell you now

it will be too late.

i know you know.

i don't have to tell you anything

but at the same time i know
that if i don't, you won't mold your words
around my mind, you won't plant
the flowers of change in your collar

and it's not because you wouldn't,

it's because i haven't given you a name for it.

one is a name you said reminded you of carnations

two is a name you told me existed

three is a name that even i am afraid to utter
because i don't feel right taking it from you
even if i tick all of the boxes perfectly.

it is a name i am not familiar with yet.

it is a name that would steal my parents' daughter
away from them

and it would not grant them a son either.

i want to talk about it so badly
but my lips won't form the words
and everyone around me has already
begun assimilating their language
without my telling them

i wish you would ask me what is wrong.

and i wish you would choose
'them'
for me.
~what is dysphoria supposed to feel like? do i have to mention it to my therapist? is that what this is?
Gabe Ouellette Nov 2017
That warming connection,
an apprehensive touch,
do I let abandonment take hold,
or show how much I care,
My interest, my desire
To learn how every piece of you functions,
And glides gracefully through this struggle of mortality.
Just some thoughts
Lizzie Nov 2017
It's just another performance... that's all...
Breathe, you'll be fine.... you've done this before...
Just smile, they won't notice you're crashing inside...
One... two... three... four... count till your next cue...
All with a smile on your face...
Adrian Nov 2017
There is a strange
Tingly sensation
In my stomach
When you are near
And when you speak to me
Or touch me
A sensation often described as butterflies
But they are not pure enough
To be butterflies
Because I know you don't feel them as I do
So they are moths
Moths
Because they are crowding your light
Moths in my stomach
Flying up
And up
And up
Through my windpipe
Choking me
And trying to reach you
And your blinding
Fluorescent light
Casey Dandy Nov 2017
You feel your chest heave
But breath does not enter your lungs.
As air flows around your balloons and into to your stomach,
your lungs scream for your gut to share.

Your windpipe feels like less of a pipe
and more of a plug--
blocking the life force from entering,
quickening your heartbeat.

All because it's 8:13,
which means:
two hours until sleep
two hours to fill
I need to shower, still,
two full hours
two free hours
work tomorrow
but first, two whole hours
to do...
what?
Shower,
right.
Two hours.
Only two hours.
Gotta make 'em count!
But how?
Two hours to fill
I need to shower still
two full hours
two free hours

Nervousness, why?
Abstract, human-constructed time.

Two whole hours still
Only two hours to fill.
Kaylee Oct 2017
The jitters building up
A psychological blowup
Welting in the pit of our stomach
As we are wishing for luck
Mentally preparing
For what’s coming
Keep on hoping
To be the best as we are nearing
Close to the very biggest
Most important step to us
Breathing for tranquility- in and out
Losing ourselves, just about
Deep breaths
Sad attempts
Calm the nerves
Mind moving through curves
Scattered pieces
Mentality ceases

Minutes turn to seconds
Limits go beyond-
The bar
Reaching the stars
The feeling i get when i'm about to perform... each.. and every time...
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