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They say
It's okay not to be okay
But do they really mean it

It is okay
Raven Blue Jan 2021
How can you be you?
When nobody wants you.
How can you live in true?
When everybody thinks everything about you is untrue.
How can everything be okay?
When everything is in grey.
Max Dec 2020
I haven’t been feeling good.
It’s not because a person or situation though
It’s just me.
So after manic episodes and sobbing loads
I go to the hospital
I go once, twice, three times
By the third I’ve given up and scream for help
But with no such luck
So they give me more meds
Say I’ll be fine
But how am I fine if I’m numb inside?
shipwrecked Nov 2020
today felt like I was a zombie walking through a ghost town
interally and externally
i'm officially not okay anymore
11/10/20 | 8:07pm
Mazikeen Sep 2020
My second self is explicit
Her bad thoughts are submissive
She always comes around
For unexpected visits
Breaking the limits in minutes
Suspicious and vicious sounds
A beat that's beating me down
Concepts that confound
I hold my ground and insist
This clever stalker persists
She turns then twists & grinds
How can I fight the beast
That hides inside my mind?
Mazikeen Sep 2020
Post traumatic, I can still feel the panic
Attacks in my visions, contained in my attic
Constant pressure, can't control my intentions
How can I be so impatient?
Losing the base of my basement.
I cannot breathe under water
The heavy weights dragging further
Should I still hope for the better
After all that has happened?
Look at the damage I've caused
I'm making everything worse
This dark force is taking over, I'm lost
I miss the person I was.
I hear you...
Mazikeen Sep 2020
My thoughts, sinking in Hades realm
Reaching the bottom, I'm under pressure
Don't surrender, I whisper to myself
Afraid of my obsessions taking over
If silence interferes with judgment
My sanctuary risks exposure
If you could only see my reality in action
The shifting ground, the constant noises
The voices chanting hate
The shadows that haunt the light
Looting oxygen and faith
And yet I still have a bit of strength
Hanging in there and here waiting
For better days to come.
I see you, I hear you.
k e i Aug 2020
the hamper’s starting to spill, week-old clothes pooling on the floor. the sink’s in need of getting drained, rotten food debris floating in mucky dishwater. dried leaves await to be picked out from the plants by the kitchen window. parcels are left unopened by the porch. notifications simultaneously ping as i turn on my phone, urgent messages left unreplied.

the room’s ever bathed in the dark, light unable to filter through as twilight starts, time i’d remain unaware of had my alarm not gone off. i’ve gotten by with chips for three days now, the 1L soda bottle nearly empty. a week ago i was supposed to start working on a project due two days from now i’ve gotten so far as mapping out a concept but i’m still looking for the will to tick off step one;
the will to get up, make the bed, put on clothes that aren’t rumpled or three-day-old like these jeans that i still have on.

i try to give myself another one of my “TEDtalks”, a rundown analyzation of things to go through how i’ve arrived to this colossally sinking feeling. but all that my mouth can coherently gather are year-long sighs. the teddybears propped by the corner of my bed, their black beaded eyes seem to hold more life, their stitched smiles actually formed with meaning. my blanket rests by the corner all wrinkled but here i am, sharing one with the dull melancholy dwelling in each heartbeat, babying it. i should brush it off but it clings, like the remnants of stickers you’ve placed on your first ever guitar that remains up to this day.

three days ago i was doing fine, not duly elated like a holiday’s thrill but i was able to joke around, go out, fulfill plans, cope with what the day throws, go home, satisfyingly crack my knuckles at the end of the night. now all the plans have stopped being sublime, “what’s even the point?” the only thing i can offer when they make themselves known.

this isn’t new, sliding in its way effortlessly into routine from time to time but each time it occurs i still get stupefied. like a sailor going down a shipwreck’s trail yet all i do is fling my lifevest off the faraway shore. like trying to find the lightswitch in my bedroom even when there are no lightbulbs installed. like some modus operandi where they hypnotise you and i find myself caught in a trance unable to break free even though i’m well aware of that sort of scheme firsthand.

i catch myself staring at the blackholes growing out from fissures in the walls. it turns into a staring contest dragging on for i don’t know, hours. i don’t know how long truly as clock work becomes fast-paced, mechanical, submerged in space.

alas, the aftermath dawns on in the early hours, ensuing the breakage of a curse years’-worth; i step out, unused to the halo of light. dewdrops form on orchid trees as the city fervently sleeps. the fog has miraculously lifted. relief follows through.
this was inspired by the song daylily by movements
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