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You, my past and my present
You try to help with lonely lessons
You, you **** me and you bleed
Through every vein inside of me

You, my future and my end
You stitch me up with torn back mends
You, you keep my joys unfound
I gotta gut me to end you now

It never will be easy
To get tumours removed
That’s a fact especially  
When that tumour is you

I need to rip off my own flesh
This cyst, this germ, this flu
It’s me, the chronic sickness
That needs to be removed  

I’ll dig you up with sharpened steel
And rip this tumour out
I don’t think I can fully heal
Without killing myself

You, my love and my sorrows
You bleed me out until I’m hollow
You, I’ll never say goodbye  
You’re all I have and I’m all bled dry

You, you’re something I must lose
But you are me and I am you
You, you’re something deep engraved
And I’ll live with you until my grave
It’s hard to get rid of someone toxic in your life when that toxic person is you.
Mariah May 26
I love
I hate
I yearn
I ache

The pain
The chase
Eyes and ears and taste

The hands
That shake
Making love to my mistakes

Regret
Remorse
Embracing my own corpse

Change
Sorrow
Waiting for tomorrow

Paranoia
Trust
Drenched in pixie dust

Manic
Placid
The future's dipped in acid

Hope
Unrest
Bricks inside my chest

Friction
Freedom
Lies that I believe in

Tears
Laughter
Curate my own disaster

Chalk
Frost
Skin made up of moss

Tide
Concrete
Death before retreat

Time
Space
Stuffed inside a case

Fraud
Truth
The difference between the two

"I'm fine"
It's true
And if you actually knew
What could you even do?
I'm sick. I'm sad. Thank god.
052625

It rained.
The sky trembled,
and so did I—
waking in the hush of lateness,
a body unraveling in silence.
Illness came not like thunder,
but like memory—
quiet and overdue.

Weeks ago,
voices too young to understand
asked me things I couldn’t answer.
I smiled.
But something inside
went missing.
So I closed the door
before the next knock.
I named it fear,
but maybe it was a kind of vanishing—
the way I’ve always slipped through
before connection could tether me.

Trust—
a thin, brittle bridge
between islands.
I walked it once.
Now I float
in my own weather.

I thought
I was finished breaking.
That the years had made me whole.
But strength is not stillness.
And even stone remembers
how to fall.

There were worries
I tore from my own hands,
pages I left blank
so no one could read me.
And yet—
this morning,
I unwrapped something fragile
I had wrapped in forgetting.

And it was me.
Still here.
Still trying to become.
R Spade Mar 22
Kneel beyond my throne, unaware it was born of lies.
Eyes linger on my every move, whispers shouting.
Am I meant to replicate perfection, or just die trying?
Cold smiles approach, thinking they have uncovered my tell-tale heart.

But I am a seasoned ghost.

Being raised to suffer, I have learned to hide.
To mold myself to fit the standards.
To grit my teeth and stand still as my form shifts once again.
Knowing the brief seconds of waking are a soft euphoria I will soon miss.

I wake to a dawn meant only for the dying.

I wake to reset my own jaw,
bending my bones backwards
with the occasional crack,
a ritual ensuring I resemble something human.

People believe I am powerful, successful, happy,
(but i am as fragile as frost on a window touched by morning).
My costume is convincing, but cannot change what I am.
Invisibly so, and so the pretending continues.
neth jones Mar 17
hospital bed                                      
                   wedded flourish of decor
catcalls foam the past                
                   behind the eye blind     stimulus
limbo scapes rake...          
                                then nevermore
early version

hospital bed wedded
flourish of decor
    catcalls from the past and blind eye
landscape  illumination... then never-mind
James Ignotus Mar 17
Sickness.
A middle ground between
A life worth living
And a life sequestered
From the worth
Of living.

Hallowed be thy strength,
Calling forth a certainty
That life will remain.
Preserved, teaching
Lessons of perseverance,
Stagnation and decay.

If only strength
Was strong enough to
Keep sickness at bay.
Falter faster, with ease,
Conveying a simple,
Yet efficient mean.

Time slips, memories fade.
Strength gives in,
An internal raid
Fills the void
With a void,
Yet how surprising

When you were never loved.
Sean Briere Mar 13
A mangled bird slumps in her gilded cage
Surrounded by opulence and feasts she cannot savor
Golden bars festooned with rolling joints and popping bones
A doll sewn by a child's hand
Pull her thread as she buckles like a blueberry
Blood
A viscous syrup in her legs
Sticky confluence
Heartbeat like a hummingbird
The nectar would likely cause an eruption of glowing pink hives
A rosy sanguine sea
Vision blurring
Rumination like hands on a clock
Round and round
Living days like
Copy, paste
Groundhog's Day
Oh, look, it's night again
Ice packs and Epsom baths
Erratic dreams
The clock resets
Oh, joy, it's day again
I wrote this to get my frustrations out about my chronic illnesses. I recently had an episode at work in front of my coworkers and I'm working through the grief and rage I'm feeling about that wall I thought I was hiding behind so well coming crashing down so publicly.
I am frustrated with myself
Y won't I change myself?
I do all the work on myself
But I still am not getting the results I want from myself

Who I am now is not enough to be self
I need more of myself
To expand into more of myself
but still I can't bring change through myself

I am age deaf
Deaf to the inevitable success brewing in myself,
Something mischievous is working against my self
Maybe an elf
That doesn't want to be a shelf
Holding onto parts that remind me of the inadequacies of my knife
I can't cut through to release myself
I desperately want to rebrand myself
So I can differentiate from my past self

I am tired of proving this new self
Her existence stranger to her own self
All she wants to be is high on life it self
Which always reflects back her divinity in herself

Ooo the pains of being so focused on myself
I can't get enough of all this attention on myself
From myself
All my problems a delight to marinate on oneself
Isolated from the world's problems watching from the topself
I have to solve my own problems before I can focus on your self

Ooo but my lonesome can't stand figuring all this out by myself
I guess that's y we split up and branched out to explore our self
So we can share different possibilities to free my self
And your self
So we can remember the freedom of being non self.

So goodbye not self
I tried but I can't bring myself
To act in your behalf
With you I can't laugh
I'd rather be the staff of my higher self
My lowerself is betting on the neck of this giraffe,
You don't give an F,
But you will when you realize you're nomore 12.
These cycles won't break themselves.
So let's rev
And meet our best self

It's OK to lean into help
You don't need to pay for this soul hotel
Drink up from this well
So confusion you expell
Clarity your gut smells
Your present self is perf
You just gotta remember your true self
God herself within you dwells
So give up the struggle, time to rebel

No need to repel
What is true in this melt
Your soul awakens to help your human compell
You already have the wealth
Like the clothes you've been dealt
mwah!
wasnt any reason for me to lie.
the scars and bruises where they lie
why on earth do you doubt
why do you push and shove and shout

selfishly sick is what i be
the trauma fake? oh honestly!
i let it happen
i hurt myself
i do it all
and don't ask for help

i am failing critically
i am sick, selfishly.

i let you laugh
i let you lie
i kiss my "normal" life goodbye.
i let my thoughts
dissipate
let the next person take my place

if i lied for over a year
wouldnt that make the truth everclear?
foggy memories swirling endlessly

we are sick, selfishly

-yjp
a poem about our mother not being able to accept our disorder.
(dx)
I'm a somber soul,
My baby is sick at home.
I'm too far to walk,
I'm too young to drive.
Oh it's such a pity,
Lonely with the little lows of life.
My baby is sick at home,
But I've just gotta pocket,
All my strife to sickness.
It's a real shame
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