#symptom
I need her to love me,
But I do not want to love her,
I only want her sensation, impermanent.
Oh how sick I have become!
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 4:03 AM UTC
Love is like a disease it spreads.
Hatred is an itch when you keep
Scratching it. It Fester an kills you.
When i think about the things I've said.
Feelings I felt. I melt inside.
It turns my in sides out.
My heart combust
An I hate myself.
Why are I not enough.
Denial will have you walk for miles.
Sorrow is a sweet after taste of a sucker punch of truth.
Loneliness is only a symptom.
An that to will pass.
I am a enigma of feeling. I cry when the rain falls to hard. When the wind blows in the wrong directions. I'm poetic. I'm also a stepping stone. The men I've let erase my soul an rewrite my blueprint. The salty tears I cry are almost symbiotic. Another symptom. Like a sonnet short an sweet. Running in a circle walking a fine line. Waiting to leap. Is it a crime to work 9 to 9. Roller coaster emotinal train wreck. An I think to myself who will love me.
I bare myself to the pit an it asks me if I'll jump. I reply not today. Slumped down I step closer to the edge. I reenact self destructive behaviors daily. Am I considered an addict. I seek validation from namless phantoms. I named them my self conscious. Are you listening my beating heart gets louder. I order cream an chowder. Sips slow on estacy. Love an lust sleep next to me. I'm smothered in one while I'm blocked to the other. Exits are closed off I think where is my mother. I shudder remembering I'm alone.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 7:59 AM UTC
they kneel in the
corner of the room, unaware
maybe uncaring
most definitely unfeeling
apathy: a symptom of depression
in their case, undiagnosed suffering
over the years of fighting
a disease that wanted them dead,
they learned what the worst part was.
not the self-hatred.
not the permanent exhaustion.
not the intrusive thoughts.
not the suicidal urges,
not the emotional instability.
it was the apathy.
they had periods of time,
hours, maybe days
in which they couldn't feel anything
a horrible numbness
like saltwater crawling in their veins
like their skin was drawn too tight
like their heart had stopped beating
hours of nothing.
days of nothing.
terrifying, but not
because they couldn't feel fear.
the apathy was an infection
they could not find it in them to care
they could not find it in them to smile
to laugh
to cry
to shout
to love
they could not find it in them to live.
the apathy was the
emotional equivalent
of a sensory deprivation chamber,
the kind intended for torture;
a horrible lack of sensation
designed to bring a person
to the brink of an indifferent insanity.
years later,
and i have recovered
i have grown
but in the darkest moments,
when i feel the saltwater
lap at my ankles
when i don't feel the terror
i know i should
i wonder
if this time is the time
from which i can't
recover.
i wonder
if this time is the time
in which i will forever lose
my ability to love.
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
You’d think that demons and devils don’t exist
And that humans, once passed, would lay asleep
You can come to my office and see for yourself
But, my patients love visitors that they can keep
I don’t want to alarm you, but it is true
These patients crave souls, not pills
I can’t get them to swallow chemicals in oblongs
They can’t be satisfied with just prescription refills
You might think I’m doing honorable work
Maybe not, but at least I can deal with them
So you don’t have to,
That sort of behavior, I always condemn
Who were you wanting to visit again?
Oh, I forgot, you were the one with symptoms.
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 10:05 AM UTC
My thoughts changes with the changing time
They are not the same , since I thought this rhyme
My priorities differ , yesterday to tomorrow
My mood changes ,morning to now
I may laugh now, followed by a cry
I will be happy , later angry
These emotions play with my mind
Want the things , I am denied.
I do not know if I am abnormal
Or all these symptoms are casual
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 6:27 AM UTC
I have my moments,
That's what I say to hide my embarrassment.
I hate it when I get caught when I have a blank look.
It gives away my disability,
My diagnosis.
It is a symptom,
But it's bliss,
For a moment there's nothing,
No feelings,
No pain,
No thoughts,
Emptiness that consumes my entire being.
Oh the bliss, my sweet paradise
My symptom
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
It starts with a pin pick of blood
Stomach tightens and
You don't feel so good
The body begins to ache
Lungs start to hyperventilate
Though you try to manually regulate
The heart pounds and races
You clench your hands
Finding cuts in different places
Overwhelming pain sets in
Setting fire to the nerves
To repent for your sins
The limbs are lame and heavy
Broken pulls and levels
Effort makes you hot and sweaty
While life slips away
The mind will mistake
The remaining minutes for days.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC