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Trevor Dowe Aug 2021
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
lynn Feb 2021
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
Evie Richards Nov 2020
RSD
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.

— The End —