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Allesha Eman Aug 11
You carry with you pick-pocketed fairytales
In hopes to find something close enough to home
That can fill your glass half-full
You sew yourself into white noise
Soak your hands in spring waters
That rush down memory lanes
Putting together a mosaic
of the greener grass you saw
On the other side
Stitching together fragments of light
From the end of the tunnel
Even bought yourself some rose coloured glasses
To see the silver lining of every cloud
But it all falls short
When the tree stops bearing lemons
So, what does life give now?
Besides some shade and something to laugh about...
Every night of every sedative
Not being addictive but only for reactive
Every of them are the fear and sensitive
Naive? Nope, I am not
In a confusion, restless morning
The hardest to get up
I called them- what should I call them?
Crowded in head
Silent in dead
How's to feel ahead
I have been medicating, and still for my acute depression and they gave me schizophrenia medicine. I'm just.. I just want to survive during these phase.
persephone Dec 2020
Now I lay me down to sleep, mind naught but unwound thread,
the nearly risen sun prepared to rear its ugly head.
No mowing, honks, or rooster’s crow, but sounding in their stead:
my racing thoughts, your steady breath, all time suspended here in bed.
I hate getting home so late that I don’t get to see him but he always manages to roll over and wrap an arm around me so I feel comforted while I stare at the ceiling for hours, trying to wind down....
Aerien Nov 2020
the noxious dragon in the spine awakens
some kind of poisoned Kundalini
stretches upwards, burrows downwards
sends out spiral tendrils across tendons
enraged villi seeking
something, anything
to sink themselves into and cause
neural ruination
a kinetic torment raging
Naveen Malhotra Oct 2020
Who is born
Happy and smiling
You cry
While others smile
As you grow
Restlessness presides
They say
First attain peace
Everything falls in order
Is attaining peace
Child's play?
I question
This world
Propels restlessness
Never wait
For peace to come
Lest fodder to the world
You become
Try simultaneously
Peace procedure
And work towards
Your material welfare
A little buddha, a little yodha(warrior)
Inner Engineering
With external performance
Disorder to come to order
Don't wait to be a Buddha
Everyone can't be a Buddha
Strike a balance in life to live good life
Tony Tweedy Oct 2020
In lethargies grip and restless mind,
I come again upon the day.
Where demons of my minds design,
find acres bare to frolic and to play.

An emptiness that invades my core,
until only black thought dwells in there.
Where tiredness is all I can feel,
and darkest depression is thoughts heir.

No calming thoughts to ease my mind,
and no safety can my lost soul yet feel.
The endless sensation of putrid stagnation,
no layers to other emotions have I left to peel.

Foreboding and deep weariness dark as shadow,
accompanies each thought and task within my day.
And though I seek escape by non-participation,
against thought there is no strategy I can play.

Turmoil to life's patterns of sleep and wakefulness,
where a soul and mind each attacks my own mortality.
Until left with just one clear and rational thought,
Of how simple and complete my final escape can be.
Winning just gets harder.
Perhaps this exorcism will help yet again.
Tea Bland Jul 2020
Sometimes, the darkness is not my friend,
but pins me to my bed with heavy hands.

We become uneasy companions
on a stormy sea—
the rest of the world sailing
smoothly on dreams.

Something about the night revels
in picking through my mind like a
filing cabinet—no method to the madness.

Sometimes I ask,
"Why will you not let me go?"

Sometimes the night answers:
"Because these hours are not your own to control."
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