#psychosomatic
there is a small planet in my belly
mysterious and silent
I wiped my tears and ignored it
then walk the crowd like a normal school girl
there are people who demand me something
that only God can give
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 10:40 AM UTC
It's psychological,
That's what they said.
It's all to do with,
What's in her head.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
bone traitor.
Skin viper
Edge Stealer
Ridge maker
Health reflector.
Mirror- you liar!
Rogue on the scale...
Signs that my brain has duped me;
Floating oily in the
Basin
Phantom aches
Blood test lies
Powdery remedies pressed almond abandon all cows
Bean curd body snatching
**** the doctor to get a clue
Girl in pain this isn't me so-
Who the hell are you?
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
I'm looking for a hailstorm to run blindfolded through
For the sake of refief
A psychosomatic firing squad to save me
from this six by three square feet of dirt
that you have left me
I now drag behind myself
I have taken this earth
and sculpted it in your likeness
I am Pygmalion praying to the moon for love
but instead I get rain
and as the picture of Her and perfect summers
falls apart like mud through my finger
I clasp and grasp and gasp
and when the rain stops
I am left on my knees in the mud praying with open hands
my skin is baptized so clean my scars shine
Now as the pieces of a heart are returned to us
twisted and unwanted and rearranged like a Rubix cube
by the hands of past lovers
who we knew too fast and promised so much
but didn't care enough
to figure out our combinations
or to hold the secrets contained or the dreams cradled
in this human-sized box
I guess no one thought to tell them
that if you plan to be a past lover
return what you have found just as you have found it
and walk backwards
that the image of you walking away from me may not haunt me in the mornings
and I can make believe you are returning to me at night
but even the stars rearrange themselves
destiny can be rewritten
let what remains of my days be it's pages
in an infinite number of realities I am still happy with you
in an infinite number of realities I am tragic without you
but in this reality I may be happy without you
I'm kicking open my wardrobe and cleaning it out of all the shadows
I'm putting on a new jacket, a new hat
but I'm keeping my old shoes
for I will not forsake the path
all the roads that once only led to you now lead from you
thank you for the detour
I'm looking for new hands to run through forests with
new arms in which to build a home in
a girl to jump on bed sheets with
and a shoe box in an attic to bury you in
For this heart will grow and one day I will see
through an unbroken stained-glass window
you were just another piece of me
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 4:50 PM UTC
I am...
Funny word that
So perfect, so fitting
****** -"relating to the mind." "A psychopath"
"Somatic " - "relating to the body, especially as distinct from the mind."
Its great knowing the pain I feel...
All of its in my head.
I'm crazy for inflicting it on myself
But im ****** i cant help it
Psychosomatic is what I am
Mind over matter...right?
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC