The air is cold today,
but i'm safe in this jacket.
The steets are empty,
But I can still hear the racket.
The cars and the life,
The things I cant see.
I can hear the commuters,
but they can't hear me.

Like a ghost in public,
almost invisible.
The feeling it gives me
is so inexplicable.
I'm almost happy,
That I'm left in peace.
But it starts to  become eerie,
these empty streets.

I begin to wonder,
'Is anyone there?'.
I'm starting to feel,
that I'm in someones glare.
Should I look back?
or is it just me?
If anyone's there,
do I really want to see?

I hear the footsteps,
The feeling of fear.
Someone's really there
and there getting near.
Is it all in my mind?
Surely they're just walking.
Are the following me?
Or is it my brain talking?

Just the vibes of walking at night.

Tarnished by energy getting mauled by time,
I conceptualize the sound of my breath.
Invincible, as it seems to the naked eye,
it subsides to the agony of what I hear.
Speeds quivering.
Speeds quivering.
Injustice, is all when breath struggles
to find its innocuous provider.
Who are you running from?
My breath cuts short.
What is it that you fear?
We are all afraid, we are all afraid.
I find, justice is solidarity.
The punishment of trial and error.
The illusion,
being, which one are you?
Hide alone, feel disconnected.
Hide from yourself, be disconnected.
Return to the breath, as it begs,
for your admiration.
Your attention.
You tell yourself time after time,
The people will just laugh,
They want to see ya dance, boy.
They want to see ya play, boy.
Your breath lies dormant.
You hope that it will remain that way
until eyes close and you can finally,
an escape.
But, you always run.
Hide from them.
Hide from them.
What will they think when they
find you, though?
They will find you odd.
You run.
They find you weak.
You beg for mercy.
And they give it to you.
But, we must never forget,
who was the one who asked for it?
My breathing echos in me.
I want to rip my skin off
and find
Its source.
All I find is endless.
I run.
I am stuck in between the ceiling,
and the ground.

Sink Jan 12

I am pretty sure everyone is looking at me right now.
I have never been stared at by so many people before.
I feel the eyes of the others all over me.
They are judging me.
In morse code.
Blinking their eyes.

I can hardly breathe.
The crowd seems a grouping of crows ready to eat my powerless carcass,
And even my shoes are trying to run away from me.

My heart rate increases, my breathing gets faster.
Why are my hands shaky?
I can feel the beads of sweat all over my neck.
I rain sweat all over people.
I hope they will excuse me.
Am I drowning?
I can't breathe.
The crowd is too loud.
I can hardly stand now.
Why am I lying on the floor?


I hear ambulance sirens scream my name.
Better close my eyes.
I can't even hear the sirens anymore.
Tomorrow will be better.

i feel fat
fat like i am carrying the babies of ten mothers
fat like my belly is about to explode anytime soon
fat like an elephant trying to pass through between a wall and a car
fat like i’ve eaten meals worth weeks of eating
fat like the moon came down upon earth and got attached to my body

i feel ugly
ugly like my face is deformed though normal
ugly like nobody would look at me for days just because of how hideous i am
ugly like a cat scratched me and the wounds, festered, remained
ugly like i have a permanent doodle on me that isn’t erasable
ugly like the girl that looks back at me every time i look in the mirror

i feel empty
empty like the way a magician loves to make things vanish
empty like the shoebox my pair of sneakers came with
empty like hands are pulling me back to my bed on a sunny day
empty like starving myself just because of how guilty i feel about my body
empty like the way my mother would brush my hair yet i’d still be frustrated

i feel
feel like the sky breaks every time i breathe
feel like the way butterflies would stay away from a flower targeted by bees
feel like water dripping from the faucet while the hose is leaking
feel like the wind blowing stronger and stronger in summer
feel like how you’d smile at me and expect me to bloom into a million ways at once

i like a shy girl walking in a crowded room
i like the books hoarded by a bookworm but thrown on the to-read shelf
i like the brown eyes of people unappreciated by everyone
i like poems lacking feelings or emotions of the poet
i like the way i’m not okay with being asked about how i am

now leave me alone

This was when I was at this place where I didn't want anyone to notice me since I felt so insecure.

He shakes his head
and tries to clear his mind.
Getting worried in the moment,
'I'm sure i was feeling fine'.

Perception becomes twisted,
Truth becomes lies.
Paranoia is knocking,
He's broken all logical ties.

He checks behind
to see who follows.
A chill down the spine,
inside he's  hollow.

Sense is hard to find.
This fire started from a spark.
The pressure inside his mind,
Stretching and tearing the world apart.

They all leave impressions.

'No need to be dramatic'.

They don't know.
They never will.
They think its a lie.
'I was sure i was feeling fine'.

This is meant to be relatable and an eye-opener at the same time, relatable in a sense that some things can be twisted by ones mind but an eye-opener to those who believe that mental health is dismissable.
A Yorks Jan 9

Every song has got a hook — and every board has got four rooks;
Not sure where I was going with that — I think it might've been a metaphor;
And I know this is a shitty song — but if you take pity and sing along;
That might just be the affirmation I'm looking for.

Don't try to read between the lines — It's not that deep
I shouldn't even be losing sleep
I might just want to hear it's gonna be okay
Tell me it's okay

With every piece I put in play — another move I steal away;
Whether it's from you or me — it's really hard to know;
Like to step away and catch my breath — but I can't do that and I'm scared to death;
It's at mercy's whim, but she's a petty whore.

I'm not any kind of poet, no — I'm not that deep
But with no one sleeping next to me, it's hard to sleep
Open up your arms and show me where to lay
Tell me it's okay

It's hard for me to fall asleep,
Without you lying next to me,
And even if it's just one night,
I'm sure that'll be alright;
I set myself up for this pain,
To watch you as you walk away,

You don't have to stay,
But tell me it's okay.

With every piece you take away — the rest of me hopes that you'll stay;
Whether it's for you or me — I won't lie to say I know;
I'd like for you to stay a little while — I'll try to make it worth your while;
That might just be the affirmation you're looking for.

Don't try to read between the lines — It's not that deep

But it's hard for me to fall asleep,
Without you lying next to me,
And even if it's just one night,
I'm sure that'll be alright;
I set myself up for this pain,
To watch you as you walk away,

You don't have to stay,
But tell me it's okay.

Sometimes you just want to know it's going to be okay.
Polka Jan 9

The truth is a weird thing
It could be different for
Two very similar people.

Some of us try to hide it,
For either the benefit of me,
Or the benefit of you,
Or perhaps the benefit of
Everyone but.

Why do you see a lie
When I try to tell you the truth?
Once you open your eyes,
You'll blame me.

Why, I haven't hidden anything,
My dear paranoid one,
For I've simply been sitting here
Watching your suspicions grow
Out of hand.

Because a suspicion is always
More intense than the truth
It's funny how
You think I lose
In this debate of lies
I tried to say
You're the one hearing them
Now, have a nice day.

Did I really mean that?
Who knows.
I suppose I can't do anything
But wait for you to decide
For yourself.

Lisa Jan 5

It always starts with the  looking of  bouquets of dying flowers in the grocery store
they're always by the entrance and they're always wrapped in cellophane
Moody lilies, doe-eyed star daffodils, phallic lace-leaves
My grandfather's name was Hyacinth
It's symbolic somewhere, somehow
My family's name is buried neck deep in floral epithets
not that you would notice or care
There's an attraction to be named after beautiful things
From the side of my shoulder I hear
count your hands, they might be missing fingers
I look abrasively counting in rotund continuity
one two three four five
one two three four five
when I look behind me the speaker blasts John Mayer and I go home feeling nauseous
manic begonias, sultry sweet-tooth hydrangeas
you pick a rose and it stabs your finger so you set it on fire and take a picture of it, you call it art and the leaves wither
when I sit at my dinner table eating salmon
I cannot stop thinking about mercury poisoning
I lick the table salt off my hands
I wait for cardiac arrest but while that happens
there is that friend of a foe, that voice tickling the back of my ear with it's summer tongue
telling me, beckoning that the tap water I'm drinking is laced with LSD by the government and that I'm going to have a bad trip that I won't be able to get out of. I'll be stuck in that endless loop like a record player that keeps getting scratched by the needle and won't play anything but static noise now.
I go to bed biting my nails until they're raw and touching skin making sure that my hands are still my own
Moonflowers bloom at night and marigolds remind me of the sun
In the morning I dream of driving out to sea in a car that doesn't belong to me and wait for the coral to overtake my brain
When I wake up I do 20 laps around my house instead

Laura Jan 3

It's like
When I miss you
I feel like I'm being clingy
Or I care too much
It's like
When I don't care
I get worried
That I'll hurt someone
It's like
When I think about the future
I never see what could go right
Only the many
Many things
That could go wrong
It's like I have to deal
With the burden of all these failures
That haven't even happened
It's like when I close my eyes
Scenarios play out
In my head
Scenarios in which
All the bad thing happen
And none of the good
Where I lose everyone
Scenarios where
Everyone realizes
Just how awful I am
I can't help but know
All of my worst fears
I rehash them every night
Just in case I forget
A quick seminar
And make sure to take notes
It's like
I can't sleep sometimes
Because my body just
With paranoia
And so far
I haven't found a way
To empty it

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