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Sunday evening I feared you
I loathed, I despised, I hated you
from knee high to a spacehopper
to hard bitten bitter nine to fiver

You forced me to panic homework
for Monday morning double maths
to thoughts of cockroached Barmouth baths
of corporal leather punishment
by spittle mouthed ****** heads
of departmental worries and dreads

You turned up every week
to haunt me into a midnight fever
to turn to late teenage ******
to fortify a nascent career
in the blood, sweat and tears
of warehouses, factories, offices
of bosses talking out of orifices

You stank the rest of the week out
the **** end of a weekend of fun
pulling the plug after a sip of
decadence over 3 and a bit decades

I heard some say they liked school
I listened to bizarre boastings and
tales of job loving behaviour
what the hell is that?
recognise it I did not
rarely happy with my lot
only happy when complaining

Well, Sunday evening I'm at the controls now
I drove you off a cliff before
leaping out into a field of shift work
where your evil offspring
Monday morning couldn't drag me down into soulless drudgery
mindless tweeting like a budgeri...gar

So, Sunday evening I've dredged you
from the sea floor to my open door
and into my troubled heart
you're not a bad old ******* now
I've learned to caress your stigma
you can't hurt me anymore
your tail no longer wags this old dog
I've been trying to post this since last Sunday evening!
Grace under pressure

She is pyrotechnics, feux d'artifice

Her northern light due south
Where the wind dies

There's trouble then

She swings in
Emotive orbit

Her hang time sabotaged
By lack of resistance

She is free-fall

Every last documented entry
Every bit of her composition
--The fabric of her

They fall from Grace
And onto the floor of new imaginings

What used to fit
Neatly into a box
Is presently a bitter pill to swallow

Down the hyperventilation
Shaft she goes

Where she lands nobody knows
Alexis Oct 12
if you have ever had a panic attack,
the gasping
racing heart
tingling limbs
and crashing mind,
then surely
you know what it is to die.
pretty ****, I know.
Nick Stiltner Oct 10
breathe in, breathe out
breathe in, breathe out
rising heartbeat, panting breath
the ***** echoing off the walls
building in volume,
block by block
note by note
the weighted hands with heavy fingers
slamming the keys in discordant rhythm,
hitting just the wrong keys at the right time
making me wince.

Pressure building buildingbuilding
breatheinbreathout
breatheinbreathout
Is what I tell myself,
In gasping breaths
While gripping grasping my chest
filled with lungs that can’t fill,
In a mind that cannot think.

The conductor looses control of the orchestra,
The instruments screech horribly
As he waves his arms vainly,
Jumping and begging for a stop,
louder and louder the instruments soar.

Breathe in, breathe out
My head falls into my hands
Breathe in breathe out
when will this ever end?
renae Oct 6
Static begins to swarm inside me,
Scratching,
As panic erodes my veins,
Numbing,
As I,
Drop,
Knees shaky as they kiss the floor,
I'm screaming, calling, reaching for you

Why are you weeping?

Found, ****** with tears,
Shaking,
Realizing it's not me you're afraid of,
Smeared now,
Tap, tap, tap,
She's back

Distorted, run by fear, she is me,
Yet no,
She's younger, paralyzed in time unwillingly,
Coming back to warn me,
I've been here before.
She's in control,
Watching,
Says once more, I need you to know,
You've been here before.

PTSD, you see,
It runs me,
Yet PTSD goes by she,
Don't be afraid by she, is me,
And you know me,

Right?
Brad post Sep 28
This ****’s been going on,
for far too long.
It took me talking to him,
to know something was wrong.

It started as a whisper,
so quiet and weak.
I could force it to silence,
without having to speak.

Then my mind and body,
started to waste.
He started to gorge,
and fell in love with the taste.

My slow decline,
was the foothold he needed,
and his tendrils grew,
where I didn’t know they were seeded.

His control grew bigger,
till it shadowed my mind,
and the whiskey fog I was in,
had simply turned me blind.

Then one day I was through,
enough was enough.
I was going to take control,
I had to be tough.

That was the first time,
that he spoke to me,
and that “no” was enough,
to finally make me see.

I tried and I tried,
again and again,
crying through his laughter,
trying to pour him out through a pen.

He was poison,
like a cancer you see.
He was killing us both,
but everyone just blamed me.

Then one day I realized,
I couldn’t get rid of that voice.
To do that meant death,
and that wasn’t a choice.

He’s a part of me,
but disconnected too.
A bystander to the hell,
that he’s putting me through.

Now every day is a struggle,
to quiet his voice.
Trying to convince myself,
that I do have a choice.

So he’s here to stay,
the monkey on my back.
The ominous stranger,
who calls himself, Jack.
We all have that voice, some are stronger than others.
sage silcrow Sep 27
My mind deludes the truth with feeling,
while panic saps light like a cast spell.
The scars sigil a prelude of dealing;
your laid traps left me aghast in hell,
eyes held vigil may keep me healing.
auto - self
cicatrix - healed scar
sage silcrow Sep 24
I lost sight of myself
a few hundred miles back
And down here it's hard to fight
the gray hue of a panic attack
I've been looking so hard for an exit to u-turn
I missed the coruscate skyline of you that I yearn
Arden Sep 23
Can we talk about the word trigger
Because people are dumb
Teenagers say they are triggered when
They don’t want to write a paper
They miss a goal in soccer
They drop their phone
That is called being annoyed or disappointed
That is not triggered

A trigger is an emotional allergy
Some that triggers distress or panic
A trigger is loud noises cause a panic attack
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