#disorganized
I’m flipping cards and reading the room,
The sun has set, I’ve a meeting with the moon.
I’m begging her, please, take this part out of me,
The part that holds back until she gets up to leave.
I want to be open without all the hurt,
I want something real, something that works.
I daydream and plan and fantasize life a certain way,
But I want to accept it how it is today.
I want to believe the words from his lips,
But I think they’re poison, and I’m being tricked.
I spiral and spin and tornado a lot,
Trying to be brave, something I’m not.
It feels okay until everything is quiet,
Then all of my feelings join in a riot.
I just need a second or two to relax,
But I’m always on edge, and I can’t seem to step back.
Yet I don’t fall, just stand here and wait
For the wind to call or to decide my fate.
Just enough fear to keep me frozen in place,
Standing on a cliff in a purgatory daze.
Jul 8, 2025
Jul 8, 2025 at 10:21 AM UTC
Bolts go with screwdrivers
Wrenches install nails
and life keeps going.
Sadness goes with anger
Empty thoughts will never fill
and life keeps going.
Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 9:40 AM UTC
breakfast is the most important meal of the day
which is something i would laugh off
as my stomach would growl in my nutritions class
and i learned to inhale sharply to somehow combat the noise
the noise of my stomach screaming to the world in that backstabbing way
that i am not eating breakfast
nor did i eat much of dinner
nor will i want to be able to stomach anything for lunch
“i’m completely normal”
my eating habits aren’t rapidly fluctuating
i’m not sleeping during completely random times of the day
trying to sleep off my body’s hunger
like i can sleep off frustration
(nutrients are a constant need
they don’t just stop being things you need
because you just don’t want anything
in your body anymore)
you used to want so much
what’s so baffling is that sometimes
hunger can feel like the muffled conversation
riddled with worry
hunger is the knocking on the door
telling you that it wants to come in
and you don’t want it to
but for a reason you know makes no sense
but it makes perfect sense in the moment
when your brain shakes hands with itself
and tells you that eating is for when the work is done
when the reward is deserved
that a need is a want
and needs are intangible things that keep you socially alive
rather than actually
and then you ask yourself
if you, wanting to feel alive
is the problem
when i don’t eat
i am empty
i don’t make ****** functions
because my body cannot function
and when i function,
my body is empty
and to keep my body empty
i do not eat
there is no beauty in feeling hollow
breakfast is the most important meal of the day
which is something i would laugh off
as i could barely stand up in a hot shower
as i could barely utter a conscious word
without overworking my brain
my brain that shakes hands with itself
to communicate with itself
that i do not deserve to eat food
i do not deserve to feel alive
i want eating
to feel normal
i want to put
priority on food
but i cannot bear
to feel present
but i cannot bear
to be present
when i do not
feel present
because i am
not present
i am not
me
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
random compulsions i cannot control,
my mind spinning out of control
trying to chase these thoughts away.
worry, worry, worry,
filling my brain,
hammering away,
consuming all my
thoughts.
stereotypes do not apply to me,
messy head, messy room;
my disorganized thoughts
match my disorganized clothes
small things matter too much,
like floor tiles and off centered screens,
pushing their way into my
worrisome brain
and not going away 'till
they're fixed.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 8:39 AM UTC
half scribbled thoughts
written with darkness
cover sheets and sheets of paper
and litter the floor
of my already disorganized mind.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 6:04 PM UTC
my mind is a mess
of spilled ink and fluttering pages
of nameless faces and faceless names
of pink sunsets and choking waves
of dying grips with icy flesh
if spreading smiles with no conviction
of e v e r y t h i n g .
and it is too much to handle.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 7:14 PM UTC
I used to think there was something
I dunno, attractive
about disorganization—
a scattered mind, having too many thoughts
to say at once, unable to focus on just
one thing because their attention is caught
by so many things they consider interesting
or insightful—I found it quirky, intriguing; a mystery
to be explored, a mind in need of dissecting
But it’s really more of a burden than
anything endearing, because it’s frustrating
to never feel like your words are correct
or your own, like you ripped them from a book
or only spit them for this poem
it’s disheartening to never be taken seriously
because of how frantically you lose track
of your subject and yourself
It’s shameful to be invaded because of this quirk,
but only for a short time
because the baggage is too heavy
and everybody’s hands are too full
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 1:45 PM UTC
Missing you is the emotional equivalent of an anxiety attack
I wake up expecting to see your face,
or hear your breathing.
I get out of my bed h o p i n g to find you in my k i t c h e n
or on my couch.
I steep my morning tea
for five minutes
because the tea was intended for y o u .
Who else would drink the microwaved-till-boiling tea with such joy?
I get dressed for my day
wearing matching socks because that’s how you like it -
they never stay that way though -
paying special attention to the bruises you’ve left on my c h e s t
You tell me t ha t they say “I ’ m y o u r s”
I think they say “ Y o u ’ r e a l l I w a n t,
Y o u ' re a l l I w i l l ever n e e d."
I often sit on my bed,
staring o f f into s p a c e,
thinking of your breath on my neck
and the u n steady t h u m p of your h ea rtb ea t in my ear
Your s m i l e is the north star in the dark skies of my brain
and it is all of the guidance I n e e d.
Longing for your a t t e n t i o n and your com pa ny seems to have become a daily activity.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 12:00 PM UTC