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Chanise Nov 2021
loud inside stares from outside
Suffering from inflated embarrassment and shame
Unknown, only known by me
suppressed until I cannot anymore
I am not my tics, but they are in me
they follow me, poke me jabbing to be included in my life
sudden, and uncomfortable they feel extreme
I blink excessively to shrug off the tickle in my brain
My shoulder seizes and jerks back in forth up and down
With no warning, I start to yell or grunt, scared of my excessive tics
I cry afterwards full of shame and misery
Hands start to flail as I rock back and forth
back and forth back and forth, I’m okay I am going to be okay
Comfort in the uncomfortable knowing my secret that cannot be exposed in my own company
but what about when there are others around me,
I hope no one noticed and I feel like a failure once again
I suppress when others are around and free my spirit when alone
I look at myself and my face contorts until it feels correct and the tics are over
Until next time I feel the uncontrollable
constraint of my tics
basil Sep 2021
your comfort movie is three hours long
and it makes you cry so hard you get a headache,
but you watch it so much you have every line memorized.
does anything about that seem even a little bit healthy?

you think all of your friends find you annoying
but they don't want to hurt your feelings
so you don't go to them when you need to

it's so hard to belong anywhere
why don't you belong anywhere?

you've had this poem in your drafts for months
not knowing what to say
the other one was so bad
but it didn't really get that much better

i know you wanted it to get better

but i won't apologize
because i was ******* right

i won't get better until you do
and right now you just surround yourself with people
who don't want to love you all the way
and you do things that you know will leave you exhausted
because you think that people will want you
if you just did more things
do you see where this is going?

because i can tell you that you're going to end up burned out
and full of regret so heavy that you'll drown
i can say over and over again that you're wasting your time
and everyone else's time

and i'd be right
because you're doing everything for the wrong reasons
you're keeping people around for the wrong reasons

but i can't do anything
because i'm just the sick ******* in your head
putting you through hell
so it doesn't seem as bad when you get there

you don't have to listen to me
but i can see the ******* future

and you don't get better until i do
and right now the people that surround you
don't love to want you all the way
and you exhaust things that you know will leave you
because you do things
that people think of wanting

do i see where this is going?
dude idfk. i kinda just wanna get high off my *** rn.

Jaicob Nov 2020
"Tick, tick, tick,"
The little watch shouts.
He sits inside my pocket
And awaits me drawing him out.

Tic, tic, tic
It's time for me to rest.
Society and anxiety
Give me too much stress.

"Tick, tick, tick,"
His voice puts me to sleep.
I love his perfect rhythms-
The perfect time he keeps.

Tic, tic, tic
The second I put him away,
The vicious tics come back
I wish they wouldn't stay.

"Tick, tick, tick,"
Directly into my ear.
The only way to stay 'normal'
Is through the rhythm I hear.

Tic, tic, tic
Whenever I am stressed,
The painful tics come back
And cannot be suppressed.

"Tick, tick, tick,"
The second-hand marches on.
Enduring all his hardships,
He's rewound every dawn.

Tic, tic, tic
My fists are bruised and aching.
"What a crazy spaz"
Society's gaze is saying.

"Tick, tick, tick,"
My lovely watch proclaims.
I whisper the rhythm back;
The perfection keeps me sane.

- - -

I need my pocket watch beside me.
Though it may not seem I do.
You simply do not understand
The troubles I'm pushing through.

The terrible sounds and motions
Are so very, very draining.
The worry to always suppress,
Wears out by the day's ending.

My watch sits beside me,
Ticking as I write this
(Ticking so I don't have to),
And reading as a witness.
This poem is about how stress and anxiety often make my tics worse. I always keep a pocket watch with me, however, so I can pull it out and place it near my ear to listen to the perfect ticking noise it makes. This very unceasing rhythm is what keeps me from having a breakdown most of the time.
eli Jan 2020
ticcing in bed with a sore body is painful.

every position hurts

it’s nothing comfortable

good night
a thought
always anxious Dec 2018
I breathe in until I feel like my lungs might explode. I tighten my neck muscels and before I can think - My entire body is tense.

I'm trying to supress it. It has ruined so much but I will not let it ruin another moment...
I grind my teeth trying to supress it further, not realizing that grinding my teeth ... was a tic too.

Letting my mind slip for a second; I come to find that I have failed - once again
I flick my head, blink my eyes violently - turning the day into a stop motion movie - Once again I already know the plot.

Everything is moving in slowmotion around me - my body moving too fast to hold it in I fail - once again my body is dancing to a beat that is not mine.

I feel the pain in my neck. It is sore from giving into the neverending urge - once again it is strained from constant twitching and has been for god knows how long.

I try to ignore the pain and focus on supressing what's coming next, but being distracted by the pain I fail - once again I flick my head and exhale as fast as humanly possible. The exhale doesn't come alone - it never does. A pallette of sounds escape my mouth.

It was not me making those sounds, but the lungs affected by the pain are mine.
I feel the cycle starting over - once again.

It goes through me like a wave of energy.
I have been robbed of the control over my own body - once again.
The power to fight back has ... vanished.

I go to bed early but sleep late; battling this force with every shard of energy I could possibly have left - Once again leaving me exhausted enough to finally sleep, despite the constant twitching.

They say it's a chemical imbalance in my brain.
Too much dopamine is released.
As far as I'm concerned dopamine is a "Feel good hormone", so why does it make me so miserable?

I lay here thinking about when this cycle will end?
And when it finally does end, when will it restart? - Once again...
I suffer from tourettes syndrome. This poem is written about how it feels to have a tic attack
- an unknown length of time filled with constant tics. It can last anywhere from 2 minutes to 24 hours.
Nathan Tuy Jun 2018
Another word gets lost in my throat,
Ravaged by the blindness
That my heart conjured up.
All I can hear is the devil
Whispering into my ear,
Saying “just one more” amidst the white noise of a room of a hundred people.
Every letter starts dissolving
Into my coffee,
Slowly drifting away into the meaningless impulse.
My lungs are congested,
Carrying all the lust I smoked.
There’s a black plastic bag around my head,
Defying all the rules of the universe,
Making sure that I see nothing
But numbers and words and
Whatever you call that is.
Whatever you call that is.
Whatever you call that is.
Alexis G May 2018

My hands are out of control,
my mouth is going POP-PPP!
Anxiety is swallowing me whole,
and my mind is a hole I’m trapped in.

You’re just doing that.
You’re copying, mimicking, mocking.
Nothing is wrong with you.
No, no, no. Nothing.

I can’t tell anyone but two.
I’m alone and scared and shaking.
Anxiety is making it (POP) worse.
My hands are flying and I’m crying,
and I know I’ll go and research.

Tics can be verbal or physical.
POP, Wax, arms and wrists, clap, shake. Pain.
Words like anxiety, chronic, syndrome, POP out at me.
Symptoms call me down to two tic disorders.
And until my parents belive me, I’m falling, falling, falling,
Falling into anxiety’s cold grasp.

Ranae Mar 2018
When I weep I remember
Unplucked eyelashes
Arms free from scars
Boxes full of bandages
Bottles full of pills

I remember
Unbitten nails
The skin on my

When I weep
I mourn the pieces of me
My past poisoned
Ranae Mar 2018
I am a clock
Counting eternity
Tick tock
Tick tock
Wicked Mar 2018
I twitch
I shout
Without thinking
I move
I make noise

I don’t have any control

I ****
I yelp
Without thinking
I flick
I whimper

I never had control

I jump
I yell
Without thinking
I twist
I scream

I’ll never have control
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