Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Zywa Apr 9
This is not a flying cold
this is doing the usual things
in a tilted world

crawling on sore knees
over the sharp rings in the metal
of a fallen spiral staircase

Keep going, keep going, take a rest
in a corner of the turn
till fear loves me again

till my ears go again
with what I see and feel
in the storm of my thoughts

till my intestines fall in place
in the witches' cauldron
and my emotions come home

from suffering
from the lesser evil
to everyone who loves me

For Maria Godschalk

Collection "On living on [1]"
Elliot Scum Jan 9
I feel your departure
in thoughts of alien abductions
stolen away in the night
leaving nothing but
the lingering puffs of smoke
from my last cigarette

in slinking shadows —
white ghostly figures
just out of reach
like the days last rays of sunshine
as the sun goes down
my sanity bleeds.

each month, we dance this haunted tango
just me and my 3000 dollar tourniquet
against the world
enough money in my deltoid to pay the rent

today, I’ll be too tired to leave my bed
but in a few weeks
I won’t be able to sleep till
golden rays
filter in through window blinds
finding my solace in sunbeams

when you fade away, my demons take hold
the complicated part of dancing with demons
is sometimes you get burnt
third degree pains holding my brains
in a chokehold
when all I’ve ever wanted
is to breathe

(in, out)
I lie to myself on a daily basis
It saves me from what I call Truth Psychosis
The brutality of reality
Robs me of my sanity
So I lie to myself to keep me somewhat balanced
why i lie to myself
Nikita Jan 2022
Seeping through the walls,
Slamming open doors,
Her past haunts her.

Her mouth is taped shut,
With a growling gut,
Shadows taunt her.

She knows that she's here,
With nothing to fear,
Her heart ignores her.

Her lungs force air,
Trying not to stare,
She's in control now.

Scuttering away,
The shadows decay,
Back into memory.
Battling psychosis with PTSD is terrifying but not impossible.
Moon Wright Nov 2021
my family believes
in demons and angels and spirits
but not mental illness

they think that seeing Shadow People
are a religious thing
and is something to be prayed about

but when I complain
about my delusions and hallucinations
they call me crazy and say
that I'm making things up

everything has to do with religion
in this **** house
and everything bad
is something to be prayed away

a made-up construct by humans
is more believable in my family
than realist illnesses of the brain

i'm tired of it
I'm sick and tired of this ****
EmperorOfMine Aug 2021
Like absurdity...
A constant w, wondering what the who and how the why,
It's like a constant state of the rip between a false eyelash and an eye,
I lie upon a thin surface between reality and psychology,
Is my mind playing a trick on me, or is it just me...just me...all alone,
Gone but here, see this is more than fear, this is pure terror,
No hell could be fairer for the one that induced it on their own,
A cone of darkness and light, I ponder what's right,
Was it a vision all along? Pronged up to put together pieces,
A mind game that maybe ceases once i figure it out...but,
what if it's not a game...and all this time It was a sentence,
Commencement of war upon myself, what if it's the same fire,
Dire in my mind like the wine of wrath that crashes upon my line,
A full on catastrophe...i don't really know me, a fear i've always pondered,
Which places me back at the top-
Next page