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sushii Aug 2018
chills.
shaking.
sweating.
insecure.
normal.
can’t stop thinking.
obsessive.
disorder.
compulsive.
no real problems.
doesn’t care
even though he says he does.
bite back tears.
smile but you can’t.
meaningless noise.
it’s all in your head.
want acceptance.
can’t get it.
all in your head.
can’t face monsters under your bed.
past wounds opening up.
bleed.
don’t like how they look at him.
don’t wanna sleep.
feel imperfect.
wish i was perfect.
small things get to me.
wish i had her body.
wonder if he’d like me more if—





what if—






what could—





why is—






how does—




they don’t—




does he—





i wonder—





not alone.
have someone.
not enough.
greedy *****.
hold internal grudges.
mind can’t get enough.
it feeds of corpses of past feelings.



swallows you up.
try not to cry.
smile and laugh.
talk and eat.





try to swallow it up,
but it eats you alive.
a parasite
destroying you from inside.
if you can acknowledge it’s root,
you will someday understand—



the key to happiness—



it’s right in your hand.







“but









why do i keep losing it, mother?”






“sometimes, you need to get the fog out of your mind.”




“how do i get the fog away?”





“face your problems,



even if it’s to your dismay.”





“but mother, i know this. it seems really easy. could you please stop with these riddles,
and help me find that key?”





“but honey all i’ve got to say is,






some kids have lost the key,




but try to find it on their own.





you are a weakling, as they say.




















stop crying about how hard it is
to live your easy day.”
sushii Aug 2018
why do you push everyone away?
why do you hurt everyone?
why do you hurt me?
why do you care so much about what they think?





why can’t i break free?
Atticus Aug 2018
when I get stuck in my own thoughts
deeper and deeper into my own head
the compulsions become stronger
five times five times five
I repeat until it feels alright
until the iron vest on my chest loosens
until my hands bleed from overwashing
I'm finally clean
until I slip further
and further again
repeat
Kellin Jun 2018
I need something to fill this
void,
So I will beg for your
figure
And I will take to try and fill this empty
insatiable
inquietude
But still I am still greeted with empty hands
and
dejection
kk Jun 2018
dig
dig to soothe the obsession.
become acquainted with the bumps
along your scalp,
grimace at the knolls and lumps
and curse the imperfection.
you know what you came here for.
to seek solace from the ache of a brain
by roaming just along its shell.
the pain is hell
but the peel makes it worthwhile.
finally you skim chemical pleasure
with chipped keratin,
physical meets mental
in one scrape of a mining nail.
here in a languid stupor you lay
languishing in a deal between pleasure
and decay.
fade away
while you dig at the earth of your body.
out of all the habits i could've had, scalp picking had to be one of them i guess. thanks to my anxiety for that one
Lily Jun 2018
You don’t know my mind,
My thoughts, my reasoning
Behind my actions.
What to you may seem selfish
Or simply eccentric,
Is what I need to do
To function, to continue
Breathing without hyperventilating,
Completely breaking down.
So please be patient.
You don’t know what I’m going through.
destiny Jun 2018
Depression tastes like disappointment,
Anxiety smells like ****,
OCD feels like Groundhog Day,
And anorexia looks like art .
You learn to ‘live’ and ‘cope’,
And you learn to fill your days,
You swallow more drinks and pop more pills and live through a medicated haze.
Mos Jun 2018
OCD
The thing about loving and OCD is that every tree in the woods has your name carved into its bark
Every attempt is misspelt perfectly in calligraphy
You’re the most beautiful mistake I have made
Note: Never take a nature walk again
Remembering to forget you is an impossible phenomenon
Like riding a bike
Except I never learned how to ride a bike
But I do know how to breathe
Unless I think about you then suddenly my lungs collapse
You were my oxygen, or a necessity if you prefer
And my therapist told me getting some fresh air would be therapeutic
Like riding a bike in the woods
The only problem with this serenity is you took my oxygen away from me
You are in everything I once breathed
Not to mention I never learned how to ride a bike
And every tree has your name engraved
An everlasting reminder of the beauty in toxicity
I can’t remember who I wrote this for
The thought is applicable to myself now
Em Quinn Jun 2018
when i was younger,
my mom would turn the mirror to me with bright eyes.

"look at my beautiful girl!"
she'd say.
her truth was the only one that mattered,
and so i'd smile,
crooked teeth and disheveled hair
because, well,
if she thought i was beautiful,
surely i was.

i'm sixteen, it's been ten years.
time has worn my confidence thin.


i can't look in the mirror anymore.
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