"calen" poems - Hello Poetry

Do you know how ******* hard it is to have a disorder with no cure? “It’s all in your head.”, because it’s so complex that doctors can prescribe anything for you, of course shock therapy isn’t a thing anymore. I look down at my hands and think, “Is this real?” Of course it’s ******* real, stop being irrational. But, why doesn’t it feel real? I’ve been eating fine, sleeping ok, taking my medicine. Why do I feel as if my brain is not connected with my body? Well, maybe it is. Maybe a part of me just isn’t here anymore. I don’t know how to explain it. I just feel, off. I’m not me. I’m not anything. I can feel the oblivion in my veins. My sense of reality is gone, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I can see what’s going on, and I do have control over my actions, but my thoughts are a jumble and some tastes, smells, etc don’t feel the same. I miss myself. I miss myself so badly. Don’t get me wrong, clinical depression and such has kind of guided me towards self hatred, but I’d rather feel self hatred, than feel, this. Feel everything at once, yet feeling nothing at all. I’m reckless. I say what I want, do what I want, because nothing feels real. I even dropped out of school, quit my job, all at 16 and I stay home trying to play video games to distract myself. Distracting myself always seems to be the best solution. It holds me back from the temptation of just laying on my floor, crying and screaming, just wanting to feel normal. Feel whole. I can sometimes have normal conversations. Sometimes. Very rarely unless it’s someone very close. Even family members I avoid speaking to in general. Calen has been helping me, alot. Mostly distracting me. He understands my needs in general, and doesn’t insist on my spilling my emotions to him. He just supports me through it all. If I need to cry, if I need to laugh, he’ll be there. He’s honestly the only person, well the only thing that has made me think twice. Now, I’ve laid on the floor, screaming to the moon and to any higher power that might be out there to make me feel sane. But Calen has seemed to be the only thing that makes me feel, real. Like, continuing life is actually purposeful. You could give me a list of things I could do with my life, and amazing things I could accomplish, but all I have to do is talk to him for 5 minutes, even if we talk about nothing of the sort, and I’ll feel the need to live another 24 hours.

0

Dec 14, 2015

Dec 14, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC

sara-rain

Depersonalization.

Do you know how ******* hard it is to have a disorder with no cure? “It’s all in your head.”, because it’s so complex that doctors can prescribe anything for you, of course shock therapy isn’t a thing anymore. I look down at my hands and think, “Is this real?” Of course it’s ******* real, stop being irrational. But, why doesn’t it feel real? I’ve been eating fine, sleeping ok, taking my medicine. Why do I feel as if my brain is not connected with my body? Well, maybe it is. Maybe a part of me just isn’t here anymore. I don’t know how to explain it. I just feel, off. I’m not me. I’m not anything. I can feel the oblivion in my veins. My sense of reality is gone, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I can see what’s going on, and I do have control over my actions, but my thoughts are a jumble and some tastes, smells, etc don’t feel the same. I miss myself. I miss myself so badly. Don’t get me wrong, clinical depression and such has kind of guided me towards self hatred, but I’d rather feel self hatred, than feel, this. Feel everything at once, yet feeling nothing at all. I’m reckless. I say what I want, do what I want, because nothing feels real. I even dropped out of school, quit my job, all at 16 and I stay home trying to play video games to distract myself. Distracting myself always seems to be the best solution. It holds me back from the temptation of just laying on my floor, crying and screaming, just wanting to feel normal. Feel whole. I can sometimes have normal conversations. Sometimes. Very rarely unless it’s someone very close. Even family members I avoid speaking to in general. Calen has been helping me, alot. Mostly distracting me. He understands my needs in general, and doesn’t insist on my spilling my emotions to him. He just supports me through it all. If I need to cry, if I need to laugh, he’ll be there. He’s honestly the only person, well the only thing that has made me think twice. Now, I’ve laid on the floor, screaming to the moon and to any higher power that might be out there to make me feel sane. But Calen has seemed to be the only thing that makes me feel, real. Like, continuing life is actually purposeful. You could give me a list of things I could do with my life, and amazing things I could accomplish, but all I have to do is talk to him for 5 minutes, even if we talk about nothing of the sort, and I’ll feel the need to live another 24 hours.

22

Jack ropes and merriopes In solicitous rhyme in fer derilious velope envy implicitous insectuaryan harridannous Ensole brodequins forbearing to lace Trace elements of that remaining empoisonous For failure interred Is succes disinterred? And if so, form where? Where derinferred strands failure unerred By error masked muscovado coloured Breadth Pneumonic, perhaps caustically mate Aerial’d on the glib side of acoustical elimination Veritable under pooh stick discrimination Matte clouds of drab depression ove in An area of low pressure According to yon hypothalamic forecaster. Core has ter Fail lently viola lapidavitious stretch so she as fer ter rousse fer ter kamuskova. An epic Scribbled on der calen. Sole of brevity then being approximately an inch and a Bit minus that Torrent all yendergelpin cleaving The very schism wit! It cynicism Be as may be a pea, no spelling bee entrusted Where? In there? In that jumble of line? Barely knows his lime from his rhyme, or indeed Lime from lime. He’s just trying to fill up that calendrous space And make some sense of it.

0

Dec 23, 2013

Dec 23, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC

guy-braddock

Epic Scribbled on a Calendar

Jack ropes and merriopes In solicitous rhyme in fer derilious velope envy implicitous insectuaryan harridannous Ensole brodequins forbearing to lace Trace elements of that remaining empoisonous For failure interred Is succes disinterred? And if so, form where? Where derinferred strands failure unerred By error masked muscovado coloured Breadth Pneumonic, perhaps caustically mate Aerial’d on the glib side of acoustical elimination Veritable under pooh stick discrimination Matte clouds of drab depression ove in An area of low pressure According to yon hypothalamic forecaster. Core has ter Fail lently viola lapidavitious stretch so she as fer ter rousse fer ter kamuskova. An epic Scribbled on der calen. Sole of brevity then being approximately an inch and a Bit minus that Torrent all yendergelpin cleaving The very schism wit! It cynicism Be as may be a pea, no spelling bee entrusted Where? In there? In that jumble of line? Barely knows his lime from his rhyme, or indeed Lime from lime. He’s just trying to fill up that calendrous space And make some sense of it.

28

I can't believe you did this to me. To my heart. We talked and stayed up all night chatting. At what point did you think we couldn't talk about it? We had talked about it before. You were writing a book, thinking of the future. Why? Your last words to me were "Don't forget me" You grabbed my wrist. That plays over and over in my mind. I can't eat. I can't sleep. But I can't feel either. Why? Just why? You knew this would hurt me. I can't be that mad at you though. I know I can't blame it on you, What else am I supposed to do? Why did you do it? Make yourself die? We could have talked it over and you know it.. Made it all right. But I'm not mad. Just disappointed. But. Not when I had felt the same way. Been there, had that, tried and done that. But gosh **** it, I miss you. My eyes are red and swollen as well, I had cried myself to sleep since. You were my friend. I told you everything. We really did have so much in common.

0

May 14, 2017

May 14, 2017 at 1:54 PM UTC

kelsey-rhoads

Why, Calen?

I can't believe you did this to me. To my heart. We talked and stayed up all night chatting. At what point did you think we couldn't talk about it? We had talked about it before. You were writing a book, thinking of the future. Why? Your last words to me were "Don't forget me" You grabbed my wrist. That plays over and over in my mind. I can't eat. I can't sleep. But I can't feel either. Why? Just why? You knew this would hurt me. I can't be that mad at you though. I know I can't blame it on you, What else am I supposed to do? Why did you do it? Make yourself die? We could have talked it over and you know it.. Made it all right. But I'm not mad. Just disappointed. But. Not when I had felt the same way. Been there, had that, tried and done that. But gosh **** it, I miss you. My eyes are red and swollen as well, I had cried myself to sleep since. You were my friend. I told you everything. We really did have so much in common.

30

I was sick when I first met you I had put on a mask to cover this terrible cold I didn't want you sick Your little arms wiggled & so did your tiny legs I looked at you & you smiled I smiled back Oh my gosh we have the same nose! I love you already I wish a good life for you My step-mom smiles at me I look at my dad & the water that once filled my sadness Filled me with joy I'm happy your here Baby brother

0

Dec 18, 2019

Dec 18, 2019 at 10:59 AM UTC

hemyleigh9909

Calen Greywolf

I was sick when I first met you I had put on a mask to cover this terrible cold I didn't want you sick Your little arms wiggled & so did your tiny legs I looked at you & you smiled I smiled back Oh my gosh we have the same nose! I love you already I wish a good life for you My step-mom smiles at me I look at my dad & the water that once filled my sadness Filled me with joy I'm happy your here Baby brother

17