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There's a spike housed
in this stomach lining

a hideous beast
cracking knuckles

a snake curling
in circles

flush them out
with cups of water

leave them starved
like mediocre starters

avoid all
sudden
movement

block each hole
that could let
a sense explode

and pray to God
the grenade
is just a dud.
Poem #7 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad' attempts to describe my emetophobia - the fear of *****.
Trixie Limasa Aug 26
Inside the room,
That surrounded by the gloom,
I find myself exposed,
Covered by duvet with my eyes closed,
Looking for some comfort,
That I, myself hard to resort.

Every time I stand in front of the crowd,
My mind succumbed by familiar tremors and doubt,
Eyes that full of judgment, I want out,
Heart pounding fast and a mental block,
I anticipate the time would stop.

Anxiety, the word that I always felt,
Even I cannot dealt,
Uncomfortable to socialize,
It suppresses me to vocalize,
It makes me immobilize,
Then I recognized,
Social Anxiety, I realized.

Having a Social Anxiety feels like you are in a box,
Trapped by oneself, tightly sealed, and locked.
Unable to free myself because it makes me terrified,
Lack of confidence, courage, I clarified.

Think about the people inside the box,
Carrying the feelings that there is no way out,
Sooner or later they will build a wall as a blocked,
that surrounded by nothing but the dark,
make themselves isolated, separated, and locked.

I finally realize what is with the box,
It is some façade formed as a rock,
excluding them from connection,
As the box designed as protection,
That the people inside it thinks there is no direction,
But I believe we can use it to make you a better person.

Social Anxiety prevents you from being who you are,
A person who should shine so bright like a star,
So dear, do not be shy,
I know someday you will soar high and fly,
With the dreams of yours held up high,
Standing in front of the ear-splitting crowd,
Saying the word “I overcome it!”, as you shout,
“I am anxiety free!” with pride.

Always remember that you are loved,
Maybe not by everyone but the people that you surround,
you are a diamond that certain people found,
the successful end game is bound.

People with no experience of anxiety,
Can say that it just a minor issue entirely,
But no one realized that it is the society,
Society is the reason why there is anxiety,
On the contrary, if people start to have empathy,
Maybe there is a future in society.

Having social anxiety is not easy,
it makes you feel queasy,
it *****,
people who have it mostly to be vulnerable as ****,
so, if you know some people who have experienced it,
Please help them conquer it.
Too long for a short patience like me :)) but please take time to read it
Yohan Aug 13
‪I'm afraid of the dark,‬
‪the wretching sight of the unseen‬
‪the eerie noises that come within,‬

‪I'm afraid of the dark,‬
‪the endless maze of the colorless‬
‪absorbing every bit of light,‬

‪I'm afraid of the dark,‬
‪the hollowness of the boxed halls‬
‪begins to tighten once inside,‬

‪My mind‬
Tweeted this today
aphotic blue May 22
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑 
𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑢𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑, 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒
𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑘𝑒𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒
𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒.

𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑑𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡
𝑖𝑡 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡
𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡
𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑠.

𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑦, 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑜 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦
𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ, 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑦
𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛
𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛
𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠, 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦.
𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑑𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑜 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦.

𝑆𝑜 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤, ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑
𝐼'𝑚 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑
𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒
𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑦 𝑒𝑛𝑑, 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒.
Kvothe Apr 13
A clipped voice,
slips noise-
lessly
into
the fray.

Yellow
and shaky.
Bland, I know.
I hate to
Say.

Butterfly
in a storm,
normally deep.
I crack,
lacking wingspan.

Headcave retreat.
Feet save
my mouth.
Because the wrong
thing ran.
How public speaking feels
No one Mar 28
You must gaze into 

your pool of fears 

and dive.

If you fall into a well 

of corpses, blood, and bones

sew your carcasses together,

and climb the rotting ladder.

If you fall into a tiny box

with no light and no air

close your eyes and do not breathe

let your soul melt out peacefully.

If you fall into an ocean

and find sharks and no way up

make sure you feed the sharks your limbs

then command them to swim. 

If you're lucky, they will carry you to shore.

If you fall into a pit

of high mountains and clouds

jump off the cliff and reach towards the sky

put your head back and say your goodbyes.

If you fall into a room

with no one but yourself and the silence

scream at the top of your lungs

until someone cuts off your tongue.

If you fall into your own home

and see the one you love most

**** them before someone else does.

Hopefully by then end,

you'll swim out as more than a ghost. 

And you'll know what you need

to do to make the most.
Carlo C Gomez Mar 16
She lived on
the outskirts of sanity,
took up jogging
to outrun the rush
of other voices,
burned a sick day
organizing her own criticisms,
shaved her legs and edges
for practice sake,
trimmed her disorders
as "normal" girls do,
bought a fancy dress
to envy but never wear,
made marks on the calendar
to believe she had places to be,
like the local
coffee shop,
where they serve
a favorite flavor,
somewhat stable,
somewhat frenzy.
Inspired by the poem title "Outskirts," by fellow HP writer Amanda.
Carlo C Gomez Feb 27
A snakepit, a lion’s den,
a second-hand shark cage.
The Big Apple, the Little Rascals,
everything after the Victorian Age.
These things scare me on sight,
but not as much as
Veronica Cartwright.

The Trix Rabbit with a gun,
The Dodgers winning a World Series.
Parallel parking with Mark Hamill,
Sesame Street conspiracy theories.
These things make me shake at night,
but not as much as
Veronica Cartwright.

The White Album, the Black Plague,
toenail clippers, salad bars and Disneyland.
The Richter scale, the Mendoza line,
Any and every last teenage boy band.
These things give me such a fright,
but not as much as
Veronica Cartwright.

Television reruns of H.R. Pufnstuf,
An opened jar of Miracle Whip.
The names of Frank Zappa’s kids,
vacationing on a Carnival cruise ship.
These things horrify me alright,
but still not as much as
Veronica Cartwright.
An older poem.
If you have ever seen the movie 'Alien,' you might understand what I mean.
CLARYT Jan 13
I fear you,
Always have,
Yet I love you,
How is that?,

you violated me,
I was young,
You remember?
What you've done?,

Saw you lately,
Felt the same,
But I'll always,
Know your name,

Winter, dark days,
Many names,
Doesn't matter,
They're all the same,

I have solace,
Take a note,
Someone loves me,
He's my coat,

He's my blanket,
Keeps me safe,
You can do one,
See my face?....

(C) eileenmcgreevy@ymail.com 13/01/2020
Horrid memories of extreme weather, but I have a lovely focus now.
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