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Jeremy Betts Apr 12
Searching wildly
Mind and heart
Panics arrival forever untimely
Becoming flailing limbs in the dark
Desperately feeling for a way toward a way to put it mildly
Never finding more than a question mark
Tripping on everything I should have already put behind me
Blindly trying to look over everything said from the start
Only finding it's the same as before the start mark
I'm sorry to report
All I can find,
All I really have
Is another sorry sorry
One more weightless apology

else Mar 31
Monday night my head spins
Reality and fiction sunken in
Sugar rush tires me but keeps me
Awake, I whirl in everlasting anxiety
I am panicking, how much time do we have
Left, something’s not
Right, my brain is shutting
Down, deeper into knots of
Self-doubt as if someone enabled
Occlusion culling, why can’t I see?
What’s in store for me? I can’t?
See what? Is in front of me?
My lungs,
Created as two.
Yet both drown
In the sorrow of truth.
My mind,
So busy.
My head,
So dizzy.
But i’m alive.
Though barely breathing.
My vision,
Is blurry.
I’m locked in a cage.
My tears,
They hurry down my face.
My mind,
In fury,
It has me insane.
For I wish to finally breathe again.
Josie Jan 29
Searches the room
For your smiling face
That brightens my day
But panic sets in
Because you are not there
Don't be gone forever from my sight
There are things I wanted to say to you
Can't let that moment pass without a clue
I needed clarity from you
We all know how this ends
Radio silence till the end
Jeremy Betts Jan 17
From day one, from the moment I was given one, my compass has had a faulty magnet
Why was that written into my script?
And why didn't I get a say in any of it?
Shouldn't I have been given a manuscript?
Explaining, for one thing, why I have to combat life and everything that comes with it?
How would you go about it?
Can't I just shrug it off, maybe let some shiit slip?
My path doesn't always need to be backlit
Certainly not by the ember of my burnout that fell from orbit
The punishment never fit the crime but I still submit that most of the claims are, in themselves, counterfeit
But I didn't quit in a panic
Not every life is a good investment
So I made the corporate decision to forfeit
Call it an early retirement
The more fitting term is a forced exit

Jeremy Betts Jan 11
Lips sealed, forced quite
One rivet, two rivet
There we go, three otta do it
Last step here is to blow both eardrums with a dangerous harmonic
Ah, there we go, perfect
But I forget
This negativity comes from a resident
One living rent free from infancy in my attic
And amidst my constant panic
I barricaded the wrong side of the door by accident
Now help can't get in to stop the punishment
I'm trapped inside my head with a lunatic
Obviously this is problematic
Hear no evil, see no evil but the mind is never silent
A silver tongue tyrant, my downfalls conduit
I know it knows I'm on to it
But a relic like toxic thoughts doesn't give a shiit
I've proven I can't go toe to toe with it
My wins are really just me escaping THE moment
It can return to being a problem at ANY moment
It never fights fair, super over dramatic
Big signs posted, "Bipolar, Beware", looking post apocalyptic
Wait, how many are against me in here? I thought "me Vs the world" was more just symbolic
Ritualistic hunter and the hunted, predator and prey, animalistic
No one ever sees the bouts, to barbaric to air it
Try to grin and bare it but it's apparent
I can no longer dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge the bombastic rhetoric
And I've literally just locked myself in with the traumatic and away from the public
I don't feel safe in here with myself and don't know what to do about it...

Malia Oct 2023
It’s like a stone
Being added
To the weight
On your back
And then
And then it just breaks.

It’s like when
As a kid
You would wave
Around the bubble wand
And watch it stretch
And strain
And then
And then it just pops.

It’s like running
Until you can’t anymore
Until you’re on
The side of the road
And you can’t breathe
Because knives
Are slicing
Into your lungs.

It’s laying on your bed
Never wanting to get up.

It’s this.
I was born to be alone..
As you weren’t there
for all my panic attacks
when I sent you a message
that I needed you right now
as my hands were shivering
to the point that I couldn't yearn for help,
when the doctor was the only one
who patted my shoulder and said;
It's okay, you are safe now…
When I saw a semi-reflection of my parents
through your soul….
Well, I’m here, fighting demons,
As it’s Thursday,
and you didn’t come home.
I know I should do better
and ignore this intense fear of mine.
I should yearn for something else
rather than the idea of
your colorful permanent settlement
in my black-and-white corners.
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