#mentalissues
I feel like I’m trapped in a box made out of glass.
I can see but cannot do anything.
I can hear but cannot say anything.
I can feel but I have to.
I lay on the ground of my box, like in-chained.
I don’t move, I can but won’t.
The air is getting less and less as I feel the walls of my box growing closer and thicker.
It takes my breath and will.
My will which held me here.
But why?
Mar 5
Mar 5, 2026 at 10:23 AM UTC
I have a friend named Sarah.
She’s always around, even when no one else is.
She shows up quietly, like she’s been waiting.
Sometimes I don’t even notice her until she’s already sitting beside me.
She listens when I’m tired.
She nods when I feel misunderstood.
She tells me she knows how heavy everything feels.
And that’s the dangerous part —
because she always sounds like she understands.
We play games together.
Games where she makes the rules.
Games I never win.
She tells me things like,
“You’re tired for a reason.”
“They don’t really see you.”
“You’re a burden.”
“You wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.”
She says it gently.
Like she’s trying to help.
And when I argue with her, she waits.
When I ignore her, she comes back quieter.
When I’m alone, she sits closer.
She tells me she’s the only one who stays.
But somehow, the longer she stays, the smaller I feel.
I’ve noticed something about Sarah.
She never tells me to rest — only to give up.
She never reminds me of love only pain.
She never talks about tomorrow.
And even though she pretends to be my friend,
every time I listen to her, I feel weaker.
Every time I believe her, I lose a little more of myself.
That’s when I realized the truth.
Sarah isn’t my friend.
Sarah is the voice of my suicidal thoughts.
She is fear pretending to be comfort.
Pain pretending to be peace.
Lies pretending to be understanding.
She shows up when I’m overwhelmed.
When I’m exhausted.
When I feel unseen.
The truthis sarah was never here to help me nor save me.
Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 5:20 PM UTC
It bubbles inside me, pulls at my collarbones.
It ***** not just the oxygen from my lungs
but the life from me entirely.
You think i want to bite my nails to oblivion?
You think i want my nails to dig so deep into my palm?
The common mistake about people like me is that we want to hurt people. When in truth we do anything to avoid it.
Including hurting ourselves because we feel
we deserve it more than you.
Sep 8, 2021
Sep 8, 2021 at 2:50 PM UTC
The repair of my mind
is not as easy as it once was.
I am broken. Longing to be fixed. Longing to be able to heal myself. Working slowly day by day to heal another piece that has grown
gray with lack of light.
Fading to black I fear
Duct tape and super glue
Only holds the fragments
Of this mirror mind
Reflecting constant strain
Emotions
Pulled tugged stressed
Mentally damaged
Spider webbing to my heart
I can't take much more
I need an escape
A back door to these fractures
I endure falling
Trying to capture
Juggling before they shatter further
Gashes open up
My insides are slowly showing
Mental becomes physical
Only so much I can hide
Spotlighted to those who know me best
Foreshadowed to others who don't
This picture show of horror
Generating more fears
How do I ask for help
When it's becoming too much for me
Alone I thought I could handle this
Face my demons
I now know
I need a bigger monster
To keep me from being consumed
And if I'm still to fall
I won't have done it alone
I'll call it a victory
If someone could love me
In those final seconds
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 2:02 PM UTC
There are scars
under my skull
that often throbs,
and sometimes
they open up
and bleed
profusely
I drench and drown
in my own blood
from the wounds
of yesterday,
and suffocate
while sitting down
in my throne
they make me ill
and they fuel
my rage,
they are ghosts
that haunts me
from time
to time.
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 10:29 PM UTC
No more talking suicidal
Done with that stupid ****
I am closer than I
Care to admit
Shouldn't rant and fuss
I'll never do it
I say I hate my life a lot
Believing I am a waste of air
The reasons I stick around
Are the people for which I care
I'm starting to think those same people
Would rather not have me there
You swear you love me again and again
It hardly feels that way
All I want is for you to hold me close
Instead I push you away
If you return my arms will never let go
I just want you to come home to stay.
Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 1:40 AM UTC
i've seen you a d
r n
o u
staring me d
o
w
n
talking **** b e h i n d my back
about e v e r y t h i n g i lack
after all youve d o n e
some might s a y youve w o n
p
even though i g a v e u
May 7, 2019
May 7, 2019 at 10:57 AM UTC
'Is everything ok?'
What is ok?
'Haven't killed myself yet, have I?'
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 6:41 AM UTC
Doing what I'm told
19 and having no life besides appointments
It was one or two a week
Now it's like five or six
No freedom to do what I want to do
Doing what others tell me
Break up with me, go to hospital
All that I can do is hurt myself
Constantly feeling like I'm just a robot slave
Not allowed to take a break from this appointment life
Knowing what is right and doing it
Are two completely different things
I'm a teenager, I should be able to be a rebel
But can't because the consequences are severe
It's gotten to the point that I don't care
Where I'm beginning to think about cancelling all my appointments
Time to end this feeling of being a robot
Time to be a teenager without mental issues
Time to party again
Time to be me
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 4:31 AM UTC
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.madame's stifled feverish
tittering,
voice raucous as tamped in a
corselet,
translucent skin akin to pellucid
drapery,
overwrought hands entwined in champagne
hair,
madame's eccentricity is her
lunacy.
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.the mellifluous static of the ebony
radio,
dulcet hallucinations imbricate in her
Crumpet,
ephemeral visionary of the
erstwhile,
Madame’s a suitable fandangle tenant of the
bedlam.
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.madame scrutinized the greenwood through the
crevice,
appetency for the veil of sea
smoke,
imperceptive to her
frenzy.
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.ensnared in an austere
plight,
madame’s urbane actuality,
disenfranchised.
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.the exuberant dimension of reciting
hysteria.
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 1:24 PM UTC
I’m not entirely sure on how to start,
Other than I have depression,
I feel like I’m falling apart...
This isn’t exactly how I wanted it to be,
But we don’t always get want we want,
I’m just trying to let you know, let you see.
I’m always shrugging my shoulders,
I can’t seem to really get used to it?
But I’m not getting any bolder.
It’s like drowning,
Chained to a rock, i’m Sinking.
I can’t stop, i’m Always thinking.
Crying out of nowhere is fun as well,
It makes me wanna give up my soul,
Literally feels like I’m living in hell.
I don’t ever really talk about it,
No one really... cares?
I don’t know how anyone feels about it...
I just sorta... sit in this silence.
Waiting for this weight to go away.
I don’t like it down here,
I don’t wanna stay.
But I gotta, because i’m Chained.
My mind is insane, constantly strained.
I just wanna go back into your arms,
Where I feel at home.
That way... I can feel some sort of comfort.
I know this is probably not the best poem to explain how I feel,
But it’s the best I could do, I finally broke the seal...
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 1:09 PM UTC
Why
should I feel
inferior by the opinions
and comments of others around
Opinions are never facts so dust it off
and move on and up
Though I know
I'm insecure
about myself
and the future
I know I'm a
dragon with
the breath of
fire All those
determined to
destroy me the
best way is to
set me on fire
watch as I die
watch as I burn
bask in that light
but know this
I won't **** my-
self over you
I will **** my-
self for me
burn away the
shame rise from
ashes and roar
like a dragon
Because once
I've hit the bot-
tom, my wings
begin to stretch
the way to go
now is up
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 8:44 AM UTC
The sadness comes by
Anxiety passes
Excitement is brief
Happinness for masses
You laugh and you sleep
-Maybe for too long-
You cry and you weep
You seem to be wrong
About all your hobbies
Your dreams and desires
Cause none of them
Make you
Happy, it tires!
And it pains you to CORE
How these ******* people
Keep saying your a bore
Your lazy and almost fetal
Laying in your bed
It's Lethal! It's Lethal!
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 5:28 PM UTC
*Is it okay?
If I sit in the corner of the room
And let myself suffer
While you shine out there
In your spotlight
Is it okay?
If everything that comes aroud
Leaves me scared and drowning
While you put yourself out there
With such decency
Is it okay?
If I refuse to speak
If I refuse to answer
While you climb the ladder
Taking you where you belong
Is it okay?
If I am unable to do what I should
If I fail everytime I try
While you fight your battles
Making it look so easy
Is it okay?
If I am not like you
If I am not like ANY of you
While you're like the rest of them
Self-assured,
Bold,
Able to do as you're told?*
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 3:42 PM UTC
I tried to write a happy poem.
I tried to throw myself into a pit of nostalgia to try and remember what happiness feels like.
All my poems are so sad, I don't know why I'm so sad.
My therapist tells me I have self esteem issues that effect everything else in my life.
My insecurities have ways been there, I had just never been able to put a name to the face until I brought a razor to my skin for the first time and the pain didn't feel wrong.
I didn't know what I was doing was wrong, I had no idea that it was wrong to be a 12 years old with arms covered in scars I call my battle wounds,
because no one wants to talk about the elephant in the room when it sounds like I've been to war and I'm only 17.
They won't poke and **** me with questions when it sounds like I was captured by the enemy and skinned for my beliefs.
I won't be questioned why I am not happy.
Why at 12 years old I was unhappy and why I am 17 years old now and I am still not happy.
I tried to write a happy poem.
I tried to write a happy poem by thinking 6 years back to before I knew I put the name to the face, before my insecurities were put on show for the world to see,
before I knew it was wrong to hate myself for what I wasn't and for who I wanted to be.
Until it finally hit me.
I've never been happy.
My hair was never as long as the girl on my left,
my body was never as skinny as the girl on my right.
My smile was never the shiniest nor were my eyes the brightest.
I tried to write a happy poem, but I can't write about a foreign entity, I can't write about something I have never had.
The concept of happiness is so alien that no wonder that when people are overcome with the feeing they feel out of this world.
Happiness is a luxury that I have never been given the privilege of.
Happiness is a luxury that I have never I will never been given the privilege of of.
I tried to write a happy poem,
I feel more empty inside than I've ever felt before.
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 12:03 AM UTC
I don't know about you but
Trust falls don't work
I know in my gut
You're only catching me because you're forced too.
Out in the jungle of high school,
No one can be trusted.
At least in my eyes.
Everyone is two-faced
Or has a huge mouth that loves to gossip.
Every ******* time
I wind up broken
Because I actually thought people could change.
"Hell, I hate this life"
I hope my back didn't break your knife.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC