So one day this rash shows up on your arm after you go for a walk
You assume at the time no big deal
Just be careful on walks

But then the rash never leaves
It just kind of festers and grows
Until it's gone from a patch to an outbreak

You try getting more sleep
Maybe change your diet
And you stop taking walks

But the rash still grows
And it grows
And it becomes uncontrollable

It take over your life
Prevents you from going out
From enjoying life

It keeps you as it's prisoner
And you hate that rash
So you try to banish it

It's no longer a mere accident but a full infection
So you look into it some more
But there are so many things that start out as a rash

You figure maybe you just have dry skin
But what if that's not it
What if you have a disease or worse

So now you both have a rash and are afraid
You don't know what to do
So you try everything in your power

But the rash remains
You're without options
It's time to bring in outside help

You ask yourself what it could be
And as much as you think you might know
You have a hunch and you're terrified to have it confirmed

So the question remains
While ignorance is pain it is also bliss on the soul
Knowledge heals but not without bringing about an often ugly truth

That is what having a mental disorder is like
It's not beautiful
It's not easy

It's like a rash
But it's inside your brain so not quite like a rash
But also very much like a rash in the way it mentally controls you

And it eats you away begging for an answer
And answer you'l never have
At least not without some pain

Born Insecure, ever chasing perfection.
Never quite skinny enough,
Never quite pretty enough,
her soul was the purest,
This fact would elude her.
Her form was her weakness,
This fact would consume her.
Until the day had come,
when a breathe she could not draw,
as the Portrait on her arms,
had Spilled all her ink.

Take the mask off when you speak to
me.
I know what you are.
No need to sugar coat those words for
me.

You're a monster, beautiful and scary
and 'twisted' into an elegant knot.
You don't have to hide from me.
The hiss when you talk is enchanting.
Don't be shamed your just like
me.

Those pointy horns create a gorgeous silhouette and
Those terrible thoughts pulsing through that deformed skull of yours.
The ones that can't be revealed even in death.
Say them. Converse with
me.
Forget the pleasantries, the politeness say them to me in your crooked way.
let us exchange our terrible thoughts.
let the world grimace and ostracise us.

Don't try to be like them
we're outsiders.
Destined to spoil there pretty picture.
Mutants. Uglies. Nut-jobs.
Destined to waltz on the edges of society.
Hanging, on loosely to our humanity.
They don't understand our song.

We'll make our own world.
Where our thoughts are so  free, they fly through  the streets.
Where we love to love and  we love too much.
Take if off, we have each other.

Nothing ever seems to change.
Prayer after prayer and I'm exactly the same.
Scoffing at the idea that I'll ever be holy.

Ive emptied the contents of my stomach
while kneeling on the floor
As many times as I've been at the foot of a pulpit
But I'm still ******* up and my remorse just doesn't do it.

It's never been enough for me to change.

I confess,
I'm selfish and abusive
to my soul for my amusement.
Nothing ever seems to change.

Burn me alive for ten thousand years
and I'll never change.
My regrets haven't meant a thing.

I can't accept that I'm this selfish
but my heart isn't whole again.

Each person affected for my brief moment of pleasure.
Not joy, not love, not need. - Just pleasure.

I want to be better.
I swear I just don't know how.
Someone please show me how.
Because my prayers are bouncing off the shower walls.

I am not beautiful
When I am sad
Because my depression
Is not the pretty
Made for tv kind

It’s the kind
That keeps me in bed
All day and night
Not able to get up
But also unable to sleep

The kind that means
I didn’t take a shower
Or bath all week
Because I couldn’t
Even put in that small amount of effort

It’s not the kind
That people want to see
To take artsy photos of
That could just be fixed
If only I could be happier

It’s the kind that means
I’ll be up all night again
And I’ll have bags under my eyes
And I won’t put on makeup
Because I just can’t do anything

And I can’t make myself study
Or do any work at all
Because my mind
Just can’t stop thinking
About everything and nothing

The kind that brings up
All of the memories
That I try to forget
And that try to **** me
Or maybe that’s just me