Adrift I float in an uncaring ocean left, abandoned
all ties severed solitude and emptiness unwanted, unneeded
all traces of me washed away with the tide forgotten, alone
These haiku can be placed in any order, but are all connected and are a triptych of what it's like to have Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. I wrote these as a reflection of my emotions and the pain I feel when I don't understand why people aren't talking to me. I obviously know that they have their own lives, but when going from feeling like a priority to feeling like an option can make anyone feel low
i once took shame in this struggle. closed blinds, empty body 'nobody needs to know'
believing myself to be a burden, i buried myself.
i spent years decomposing, cold and unrecognizable. a fossil of my former self.
but now i hold the shovel and free myself from this earthen cage. i am beginning to understand that there is beauty in asking for help, and i have planted the seeds of self love. watch as they grow roots and blossom
-here's to a fresh start
here's a poem i wrote around 1 1/2 years ago and never posted
i feel it hit me again as if ive swallowed mercury as if there are bees dying in my lungs as if suddenly nothing has ever been right with this god awful world and i cant ******* stand to sit in the same room any more.
im so sick of this im so sick of this im so sick of this
ill destroy my hearing for the next few hours or however long it takes for the music to overtake the intensity of emotion im feeling. i cant describe it i dont want to see or hear or think i need a filter in my brain to catch all the ******* thats cluttering up my mind i cant think straight for now at least the music can brush up all the crap i need to rest i need it to be quiet seemingly i can only find silence in noise loud enough to drown out everything else. i cant even hear the music its just... quiet
She screamed her lover's name begging Him to set her free, Oh and Jesus took her home when He heard her call. Smoke and fire and ash and tears they disappeared for Joan. The fire raged to find another living home.
It found it's home inside of me Oh but the flames have learned to not be seen And I call His name to rescue me but He doesn't hear me.
What if I 'd had a vision Led an army off to war Would you list to my cries then Would you settle up the score?
See I'm just woman Nothing beautiful to see Jesus tell me what the difference is between Joan of Arc and me.
I find and lose my faith over and over. She burned and fire consumed her, my fire is inside. It's taking my life slowly. Her last word was "Jesus" and he set her free. I cry out but he doesn't hear me, that's the difference.