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Messing up scares me
so much, I’ve become paranoid
Which messes me up
sierra gautschi May 2019
I’m defeated.
Insomnia wraps its hold on me, making sure I’m aware of just how trapping its grasp is.
This is another continuous replay of how I live in the home in my mind.
I want to evict, run for the hill but like the hideous demons that slave me,
my thoughts are one of them.  
I knew it was wrong.
I wanted to stop, look away, go back.
I wanted to do anything but what I’m doing right now.
I’m not.
I am doing this.
no, I did this.
moments pass feeling more and more like years looped around.
there is a sensory overload, then silence.
however, I open my eyes and all I hear now is screams.
tears drop.
I internally feel the battle repeating.
two tears drop, three tears drop,
the screams cease to stop.
the screams are mine.
I gasp for air in what feels like centuries later hoping what I did, what happed was a dream.
it wasn't.
it was all just too surreal.
how do you heal yourself when the things you need healing from are inside you?..
blackbiird Jun 2019
i know i need help
but my mind won't adapt
i know it's not your fault
for trying to love
me when i can't
seem to love myself
i know i'm a dysfunctional
mess but i love it
i know i need help
but my mind is comforting.
i know you're going to
leave but i'm fine
leave me with the comfort
of my own thoughts.
Emily May 2019
paranoia
seeping through the scars in my arms
and into my b o n e s
second guessing myself as I stare into the dark abyss around me
waiting
for the demon to step into the light after haunting me for so long
whiplash
as I turn around to meet the presence in a cold stare
except there isn't anybody there
Asominate May 2019
You know
We're good
We both know
How to hold back

Killing machines,
On command, we can attack

Our defences
Sometimes found offensive
Do the crime, pay the time
Pay for your offences
elle jaxsun Apr 2019
sometimes my
voice escapes me

my chest so tight
like being stabbed with a knife

throat dry
heart racing
breath quickens

for what reason?
NaPoWriMo day 4 - 040419
𝐕𝐕 Apr 2019
Behind a closed eye is the killer that lurks in the shadows. His name is...... STRESS. They call him the ‘the silent killer’. He finds you when you find him. He plans his attacks to prey on the young and the weak minded at night, for they are the best prey. Right before the last shadow, he slips into unconsciousness and delves into the networks of the brain. And then, that is when he begins his work.

He’s only friends with himself.

He’s out to get me,

He’s out to get you.

  You best watch yourself if you don’t wanna be caught by the bad man. You don’t wanna run into him on the way home. You wouldn’t like to know what he would do with a live body. His fingers will work his way through, destroying your mind complexion. It is all claimed. By brutal force, he will shelter your brain into solitude, hiding your brain away as a hermit to begin the ritual of slipping on the juice.

He’ll have you crawling on your knees,

your eyes will crave the desperate lust of freedom.

He’ll wrap his arms around your chest and squeeze it tight without ever stopping.

He’ll bathe you in wrinkles and steal your fountain of youth,

He’ll crawl into your brain and rot it away, drinking the juice,

He’ll alienate any living individual you socialized with.

He’ll knock down your door one day.... and **** you.

   Let out all your pretty screams and cries if you wish to alleviate two-second pains of memory burns.

  You can’t escape stress once you’re snared in his trap. His body fuses with yours the instant you are found. Your physical body becomes a walking piece of meat while your mental body is possessed by the demon named stress. There is no escape, you are trapped and there is nothing furthermore of what you can do. He'll corrupt the cells, weaken your heart, and drain your lively source that was beneficial in assuming you were vivacious. If not dead once, it wouldn't matter anyway, as he would consider you a treat.

  For you are already dead.
likewise, avoiding stress, in general, is key mates
Ian Apr 2019
I'm sick to my stomach with my own paranoia,
It tears away at my innards keeping me aware,
That my despair is ever present,
Ever vigilant.

I can never know for certain what can be certain,
Nothing feels like it's ever in place,
Whenever I think things begin to look up,
The terror of its demise sets upon,
Devouring all the light surrounding it.
Philomena Apr 2019
I lay there in darkness
In a silent black limbo
And my soul feels tired
But my mind has other plans
My mind is awake
It races through every though and action of the day
Nodding to the accomplishments
And contemplating the failures
And after a nod or two that's where I remain for a while
The failures
My failures
And so I'm laying in the void among my flaws
Sleepless
Helpless
And my brain goes everywhere stringing things together
And making things up to fill the voids
Until I break and the tears fall
They're soft on my face and quiet
Until they too fall into the darkness
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