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Bec Aug 2019
I stay close to the words you say
I still never let them ruin my days
a serious series of poems about what it’s like to get close to someone when you have a mental illness that makes letting someone in burn and ache
Em Dec 2018
You rest inside my mind
Flooding through memories
Melting the corridors of my brain

Supernatural
And electrical activity
Since the day you came
I knew you would stay with me
In my consciousness.
In my *****,
psychotic,
dangerous mind.

And I know you still will.
aghfhgh
im bored
cant write
lev me aloon uwu
i wanna play with italics
YO I JUST REALIZED Y A N D E R E ??????
Jasmine dryer Dec 2018
she had a chance to make us sane
to bad little sally ran away
but its ok
its ok

its not like our minds are falling a
                                                              p
                                                         a
                                                                   r
                                                           t
the longer and longer
the doctors make us stare at the
c h a r t
but were smart
the only problem
is that we don't know where to start

we wait for sally
to make us sane
to bad little sally
has ran away

our rooms are soft
sally said like clouds
padded softly
for when the voices get loud

little sally
why so blue?
miss sally
what did we do to you

she had we chance to make us sane
to bad miss sally
has ran away
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2018
Crazy

A word I have always hated

Am I insane?
Should I be locked inside an asylum?
Perhaps put on medication?

Please do not patronize me by exploiting my insecurities in a condescending manner

I told you where my soft spots were in confidence hoping you would understand
Hoping you would speak with a sliver of sensitivity

I'm regretting that now as you aquire a taste for the way it sounds in your mouth
You save it for those moments where you really want to see me boil over

The reason why I hate being referred to as crazy is because I am somewhat psychotic
I am already scared of my own irrational behavior as it is
I am terrified of my slipping grasp on reality
I know I am crazy

I don't need you to remind me
I'm gonna show you crazy
Jack Torrance Nov 2018
What is your obsession,
with writing depression?
Just forget about it,
and try to move on.

A therapy session?!
That’s out of the question.
You’re perfectly fine,
if you do that, I’m gone.

Anti-depressants are bad,
you saw what happened to dad,
Do you want to be like a zombie,
now that’s crazy to me.

There’s no reason to be sad,
and I understand that your mad,
but there is key elements here,
that you refuse to see.

I may just be a voice,
but I do have a choice,
and I’m not the problem,
cause I’m basically you.

Alright fine, I get it,
God you sound pathetic,
blaming all your problems,
on what’s in your head.

You want to be sane,
and forget all your pain,
but it’s what makes you you,
so embrace it and move on.

You cannot erase me,
so let’s just let it be.
I can help you get through this,
together, just us.

Alright, put down the pill,
and tell me how you feel.
Oh man I feel weird,
what the **** have you done....
em Oct 2018
the only sound i remember is my feet colliding with the pavement.

over and over and over again.



when its over, theres a police officer in my home.

he looks unusual standing in my living room.

i let him handcuff me while my father, a retired officer himself, looks away in disgust.

when he takes me outside to his police car, my neighbor is outside.

she makes eye contact with me and quickly looks away.


this is my life.

it’s euphoric, its dreary, its beautiful and miserable all at once.

it’s sleeping on hard mattresses reading words engraved in psych ward walls.

it’s the low glow of motel lights and it’s kissing the lips of my best friend who i’m so desperately in love with. it’s spilling our hearts out on her bed and wishing we were older.

where do i go from here?
Cerasium Sep 2018
The Voices the Voices
They won't shut up
Screaming and shouting
Banging on the walls

Distortion of vision
Clouded with racing thoughts
Blurry eyed he walks
Straight into a trap

He starts to shout
Everything the voices say
To which some are good
But others are truly insane

Hammer down inside his head
For when the voices awake
Terror fills his heart
Gnawing at any shred of hope

Though when the voices are silent
Calm waves flow gently
In the mind of whom
Is slightly crazy
Okay I have a confession to make. I am diagnosed with DID, Dissociative identity disorder. I have about 7 or 8 different personalities, or Alters if you will, and they help me write the poems that I bring you.
I hope you all enjoy our words of magical mystery.
Andrew Rueter Jan 2018
You see me as the bacteria
And yourself as the antibiotic
I see you across the cafeteria
Acting psychotic
Because of what I find ******
You treat me like I'm toxic
But you're seen as normal
So I hide beneath the coral
To avoid your aggression
That will teach me a lesson
About correctly guessing
Where your fists will go next
You tell me I want it like ***
This is your way to flex
To show you have an edge
You single out the marginalized
There's no way you'll hedge
When you have harm in your eyes
And then use charm as a disguise
To make me cry over spilt milk
Because I am not of your ilk
For I am as soft as silk
Like the sheets I want to roll in with you
Instead you shoved my face into poo
As my ***** grew

I think of killing myself
With my gun
When I think of filling myself
With your ***
While pretending I'm your son
And swallowing you like gum
Those are my ideas of fun
Yours is to tell me to run
From your intensely penetrating fists
That make me regret my penetrating wish
As you brandish the weapon
From the movie Inception
That launches you into my dreams
Giving my thoughts a singular theme
As my mouth continually screams
I was born on the wrong team

You wanted to exhibit your power
In this seemingly arbitrary hour
So you broke my nose
To show off for your hoes
An off the cuff
Attempt to be tough
But I found it deeply affecting
When I could feel your hatred injecting
Making me wonder if I'd ever be free
After I saw the only ending I could see

You move to strike me again
This time I have my mac 10
That I brought to school
For a one sided duel
You changed the trajectory of my life
By changing the trajectory of my bullets
You taught me about strife
You taught me how power is the coolest
You taught me to move on to your friends
Their lives I must remember to end
This is the message I'm choosing to send
When they sat back and watched the hate
Like it was 1938
I lost my sympathy
After being treated differently
And gained a ruthless anger
That turned me into a stranger
So I let the automatic gun spray
Faster than they could pray
For their hoots and hollers
I shoot their collars
Creating shade in the halls
That I make when they fall
The feeling goes to my *****
I become strangely intoxicated
By the death of those who hated
So I go back to your dead body
And do what you felt was so naughty
And now there is no one even around for you to tell
That I ****** your corpse while you watched from Hell
Joshua Michael Aug 2018
I’m sorry I’m sorry
I said, Stepping in
The mental hospital
I’m not right in the head

I’ve been constantly slicing
Cutting through skin
To escape myself
To survive my hell

I wish to see your face
when they finally let me free.
I wish you would write
or call me just once

But for now, just visions of you
While I’m drowning
In my own crimson blood
Tearing
       Splitting
            Ripping
Searching for the key
To this mental prison

The nurse walks away
After haven given
Me some medication
Something to calm me

The straight jacket now
Holding me firm
They put me down
I Sit there an empty stare
  
They filled me up with drugs
keeping my head in narcotic haze.
Pill after pill all day, every day
I am broken and defeated

Paralyzed
Broken
Alone
Sitting here in a mental home.
Its been a few days inside now, i'm finally allowed some time to write and use the computer. Its cold in here, its lonely and they are constantly watching The screams at night are the worst.
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