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fox Oct 5
next to you i can't breathe
always a shell of a person
a ghost in the machine
gutted on the fishing hook
of your renaissance taste
pixel gore painted
on the sidewalk in pink
and lavender blue
gold thrown up by a
woodchipper stomach
tumors kissing a
washing machine heart
who's afraid of modern art?
Floods raze,
earthquakes shake,
locusts plague,
lost sheep astray,
and my stomach
is a knotted pit of snakes.

My pain cascades in waves
while you pray
to the angels
and patronizing saints;
it's not God's grace
testing faith
but a mind erased
as brain deteriorates.

It isn't fate
but a baby languishing,
afraid of danger,
drained,
trauma ingrained
so I must vacate
because mom
I can no longer bear the weight
of being brave
and maybe I can't be saved
but I can't stand
to see you in this state
and I can't stay
so please just remember
all the love I gave-
I love you always
and I'll take that straight
to my grave-
I never placed the blame,
I'm just exsanguinated
and i bet you'll never even realize
today is my birthday
so i guess I'll see you
at the pearly gates-
please don't wait.
This one is definitely my most personal/raw (and i dont know how I feel about airing this publicly) so not sure if I'll even keep it...

My mom has schizoaffective with religious hallucinations/delusions and is very much in denial... ive tried to figure out how to get through to her for years and in a couple brief moments of lucidity thought I had a couple breakthroughs... but her mental health has rapidly declined to the point where just trying to have a basic conversation is impossible (and made me realized how traumatized I now am because of her, what it still does to *me* because i cant even talk to her without shaking now, etc) and she refuses to ever get proper treatment so I finally had to cut her off (because it would be too heartbreaking to watch her suffer and continue deteriorating, isn't fair to me to let her drag me down with her just because I still care, she won't get help, etc)... I wrote her a letter trying one last time to get through to her and gave her an ultimatum whether or not she wants to keep me in her life and now i have to just know I tried all I could. It took me a week to write... but unfortunately untreated bipolar and schizophrenia are also neurodegerative conditions (and the brain loses gray matter over time) so it eventually becomes a pretty serious impairment as heartbreaking as that is to watch, so im not sure I'll have much luck...

Also saw the date and hadnt even realized it was after midnight so it was my birthday... checked when she texted me (because that's what prompted me emailing the letter) and it was at 12:04am (a mere four minutes into my birthday) and I can guarantee she won't even realize. Thought it was eerily fitting though...
These voices haunt me day and night,
Their mostly mean, their not nice.
I try to survive, they jeopardize my life.
They terrorize my mind, all the time.
They push me off this mountain i climb,
Its harder to climb everytime i try.
I pray to God and ask him why‽
I look up at the sky with my eyes and cry,
Wanting to tell these voices bye.
True story
I cry myself to sleep some nights,
Thats the price I pay to roll the dice.

Should i take my life tonight?
I'm defeated from my insides.

My mind, can not rewind time,
Im denied the prize, of a second climb.

Trying everyday not to lose my mind,
I whined one to many times.

Should be a crime to deny my rights, I'm losing my mind, with these guys.

Inside my head, behind my eyes, they tell lies and become spys.

Their not nice, they want me to die.
Make me cry, every single time.

Your not real, but I still feel,
Only i can take lifes wheel.

And hope for this sickness in my brain to disappear.
F these voices
Can you hear them voices?
That only i can hear?
Whispering Warnings,
Feeling My soul up with fear.

It's hard to be lonely,
When you can hear,
Its like they are roaring,
In my ears.

I'm tired of them coming,
Oh how they just appear,
Mumblings emerging,
They will never disappear.

They act like they know me,
I try to flee,
Wanting to destroy me,
Their all i see..

Wouldn't wish this on Nobody,
Them spying on me.
My brain is lying,
Is this real or a dream?
Schizophrenia *****
I lay in bed and listen to the voices in my head, I'm fed up with them making noise and making me upset,
All they do is talk ****, nothing positive to say, i wanna yell, i want them to just go away, i act like i can't hear them, i act like i don't care, i pretend like their not real to me, but deep down im ****** scared. I hear them whisper things like shes stupid, ugly, and mean, why must they bother me, they make me want to scream. Tired of pretending everything okay, i listen to them talk **** about me every single day. What must I do, to have peace inside my own mind? I take meds that do nothing, the doctor says give it time. But The voices yelling at me, only laugh because I'm scared,  they like to see me panic, my heart pounding with endless fear. I'll stay up all night, listen to them be mean, hoping one day to be normal,  my mind to be let free.
True Story
Kai Aug 2022
Schizoaffective bipolar type is hell’s disorder.
It is a whirlwind of the curious mind.
A fusion of emotions, brick by boring brick.
Thoughts askew and twisted like twigs.  

Mania, depression, and psychosis sleep together.
Producing a break out of pandemonium.
Exulting energy, dejection, and voices taunt.
A battle within that seems to haunt.

Medication and therapy, tools of aid.
Will tackle hell’s disorder and put it in Pandora's box.
Be wary and do not open it no matter what.
Or the symptoms will crawl over every inch of your skin.

Put the pain in the past because you can still live your life.
You can work a 9 to 5, go on hikes, travel, and ride a bike.
What is something you look forward to? They always ask.
I sigh and answer: freedom.
You’ll get through this!
Zywa Sep 2023
Our souls are not whole,

they are split, in other words --


they're schizophrenic.
The imperfection of the individual souls in which the human soul manifests itself, in feeling quite little connected to each other

According to the ancient Greeks, the (separating, splitting) diaphragm was the seat of the soul

Novel "De redding van Fré Bolderhey" ("The rescue of Fré Bolderhey", 1946, Simon Vestdijk), published in 1948, chapter 10

Collection "Inmost [2]"
Abeer Apr 2023
Run
Run
Run
Run
But I'm a creep
I'm a ******
What the hell am i doing here?
I don't belong here

"There's something wrong with the waters Mr Goethe
It feels like yesterday was spring
Now it's time, it's mere time
Till the frogs hop around
Gosh god does play dice with the world
Or else how have you found Ms Goethe and that jolly girl of yours
Oh ****** me, how is she?"

"She's fine, she's dust"

"It's almost like I didn't get to meet her when she was around
For the employee party
Tell me what is she wearing so heavy that she can't move once"

"Oh no barely dirt, i shot her dead and my child"

"Oh look the frogs are here near this meadow"

Run
Run
Run
Run
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