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Patricia LeDuc Apr 2018
How did this happen?
What did I do?
I try to control it
I try not to believe it
It happens so fast
Not much I can do
Manic...x...two

I scream and I cry
Oh no not again
I know the symptoms
But they creep up to fool me
Tried distracting it
Tried to watch TV
Walk around and around and
Around the room

Manic, manic, manic
Top of the room feeling panic
Whoopee Bipolar is here again


Hoping my feet touch the ground
It follows me
My brain...is not sound
It beckons me still
Again and again
I take the good and the bad
Trying to cope
Holding out for hope
9/30/16 written by Pat LeDuc
Bipolar is frame of reference to a normal life
Loser Feb 18
My blood runs down the warm steel strings.
My fingers ache.
The noise stops.
My pathetic attempt to cope by writing a song about you has failed.
elle jaxsun Jul 2018
the mist from my dope
coping mechanism
tickles my nose and my lips

the corners of my mouth
pulled upward as my eyes
turn to slits

i sink into the couch

cuddle my dog

ahhh, i ******* love this
SelinaSharday Aug 14
I almost fell in love but I took it buried it with my pen.
Tried to promise to not let it surface again.
My brain forced my logic to creep in.
I just dived back into paper with pen.
I wanted to watch your beauty its like a rainbow.
I reminded myself one day it would turn to winter cold ice and snow.
You walked by me close enough for me to feel the
warm beauty in your shadow.
I told myself it wasn't what could comfort my tomorrow.
You became my beautiful songful muse.
I realized that began to leave me feeling a bit confused.
Bubbles forced themselves out from my harmony they sparkled
they did rise.
To you it was no surprise.
Those bubbles left colorful tears in my eyes.
I begged mercy to keep away any kind of calamity.
Fight away the passions that dazzle to drown me.
Trying to break free..
stringed like kisses planted all over me.
Trying to break free as you  decided to hide from me.
Rise from the tracks you left all over my body and its
memory.
Maybe it was all a jar of unnecessary lies.
Now seeing empty messages unsent replies.
Dreaming about weird unsorted things.
Recalling fingers with no rings.
Giving freely inconsiderately of me.
Almost I almost walked away from me..
Things deserved that are best for me.
I remembered I could cope.
Wait on what's good for me, I remembered there's always Hope.

By SelinaSharday S.A.M All Rights Reserved 2019
.Something said as creatively as could be..who are they.. us we that privately be..trying to stay out of unnecessary things
Isabel Levy Aug 2018
Sometimes I feel incomplete, as if my two hands clasped aren't enough to hold,
As if my body heat needs to be supplemented somehow, or encouraged;
I don't feel enough pressure on my skin throughout the day, and though I'm not six years old,
I decide to touch everything I see, everyone, so we aren't all discouraged.

I only know my position of mind, any other I've barely grazed through,
Since I was born and raised with this head, my mind has developed it's own ways...
But I'll always glance over, when I'm not being beheld, to take a look at you,
And study your habits, expressions, even your name, until my focus is swayed.

And this is what I do with myself, how I fill up my time and my brain.
I daydream with my head down and refuse to see the sun,
The blinding light doesn't see me as an herb, but simply something to drain.
Burn my eyes with your excellence, your independence has won,

And I, laying face down in the soil, feel your burning influence upon my back.
Swelter my skin, I don't have to ask. Are you who I want to be?
An unstoppable force in someone's sky that can both comfort and attack?
Is that what I'll have? A sun of a man to hold? One who both loves and harms me?

However, it may be my own fault, as the harm is inevitable here,
Staying out without protecting myself from the ball of light in the sky.
The earth against my forehead is cool and rich, making my head clear,
It takes each whimper, each tear that falls, and absorbs every cry.

I bury my face into the dirt, squeezing my eyes shut so tight,
I taste the sediment, the clay, the plant remains, but I don't mind.
It feels just fine. Cool on my skin, dark and soft, it feels just right.
So much so that I forget about the sun that looms right behind.
Oy vey
Sat drinking coffee eating bacon bap In my local supermarket just as I normally do but seem somehow
different
than times before more
a feeling of calm relaxed like an acceptance that I'm coming to terms with
grief
I'm finally coming to know
how to deal with my loss
the answer to keep Helens spirit with me
always
so I can go and do what I wish to, without feeling guilty because Helen will be coming with me just as In
life
and I'm happy with that almost a sence of relief
I can now start to make something of my remaining days
I shall be living for the both of us but the most Important thing to remember together forever and always as said to each other as In
life
Strange feeling today almost of acceptance that my has come to terms with grief that now I know how to cope I deal with grief
Numbing
Numbing
Numbing
That’s what we do
Dull the feelings
Do whatever it takes
To forget the pain.
Hg Oct 2018
bouquets of powder
as white as flowers of zinc

skating thin ice
cutting thin lines on the sink

sniffing inhaling
until his nostrils would bleed

skip to the morning
they find his pale white body

he was so nice
in junior high when we met

his younger brother
smiled exactly like him

the death tore the team
they were closer than magnets

but he risked it all
to fall in the flower bed

is that what we get
when we encourage the dope

tuition’s forgiven
still the parents don’t cope

and i can’t imagine
how hard it must be to hold

a part of your brother
right underneath your own nose
©Hg
Daniel Ruiz Aug 2018
I'm here sitting
alone,
the smell of coffee runs through
my veins,
some music i probably will forget
in a few years arguing with
the thought of you,

But I'm here,
I'm here,
writing about what's happening

pretty boring huh?

i call myself a poet
but i can't use high metaphors,

i call myself a poet
but i can't describe fully
how you make me feel

i call myself a poet

but what am i?

I'm just a kid
scared of life
finding new ways to cope
searching for someone to love,
desperate,
not holding unto my dreams
how can i choose with my mind
what's right for the heart to choose.

and you see?
don't you see?

don't worry i can't either

i can't see how great i am
i can't see how other people see me
i wish i could.

i want to believe this was a dream
or
a nightmare at that.

But at last.
I'm here wishing that in another life
i could be with you,
or
maybe in other deaths,

i crave your touch,
i crave you..
with coffee waking up my senses
like a kid in summer waking up early
to go play with his friends.

i wish things were different,
so i wouldn't have to wish.
Rowan Nov 2018
They say "I'm not sure,"
and they know it's veritable.

Cluttered desk--hats and
textbooks and papers and
earbuds all askew, heart
pumping too quick

Sitting on a black plastic chair,
legs curled up underneath, eyes
flickering to The Latehomecomer,
stomach unsettled

"I'm not sure." of what?
head down, eyes searching,
mind spinning, lungs catered
like coffee at noon
"Everything."

Supplied lies, shaking hands
pouring chamomile tea into a
white cup, hoping for--
that too.

"Everything?" on their mind
is falsified and unknown,
twisted skin ruddy,
shoes all in a row,
nails bitten like marionette

"Anything." of confirmation
belongs to the stables
which blossom with the
stench of sweetness and
wild, roving insecurity

"I'm not sure," they
murmur, "what you mean."

Precipices are lonely business
and so are "People like me,"
Forks are steel but the
mind is molten
and rusted in decay

"dream of quiet," they laud
slick on thin ice of
the essay due tomorrow in
history on the death
of too many

Sunglasses are similar
to winter waters and
lightning spirals in;
they are in debt to
themselves, in depth of

"broken moments." that
clash and too much
to think
              slivers down in silver

carcasses of thoughts
"Okay, I can't help you."

"I know," filters out
behind lips of burning iron
"I never expected you too."
floats down the crowded
unfinished
                    street.

They're not sure of
everything and
I'm not sure of
me.

I know it's true.
Vish Sep 2018
You shouldn’t have come if leaving was all you had in mind

You do not deserve these words of mine and yet here I am writing line after line of heartache that you caused me

Because it is these words that help me cope with your unpleasant and unwelcoming departure

Thank you for leaving for it showed me that I am so much better off without someone who chooses not to appreciate the beauty that lies within me
to all the people who broke my heart
CK Baker Mar 2017
were you there
with a passionate heart
when all her world
was falling apart

did you listen
thoughtfully
when all that was
was misery

did you hold her
see her eyes
when desperation
fell from the sky

did you linger
help her cope
when all was lost
without a hope

were you present
conscience clear
to help her face
her darkest fear

did you ardor
deep inside
laugh and cry
build her pride

did you lift her
from her knees
dull the pain
and help her ease

did you question
more than care
were you feelings
raw and bare

did you show her
all your love
deep in spirit
from above
haley Oct 2017
The trail of a wedding dress
The flower girl holds with tiny fingers
Clutches

We too hold the endless stain of blood
On white t-shirts
On nights that scatter blue trees over black heart
Alight by shooting stars
The mother tells her child
Unwilling to unlock the truth

The truth
The truth those stars
Don't grant your wishes
They grab them
With scarred scratching hands.
Alight,

The damp stitches in the soil
Cemetery symmetrical to hospital
Those shooting stars circling
Like a vulture
Speeds towards dead carcasses
Still, the murdering star will not cease

To break bones
That have already broken
To take lives
That have already been taken
To burn
What is already charred

Today
It smells like not your favorite food for dinner
It smells like having to do your math homework
It smells like burning books
It smells like gnawing on your own skin for feast
It sounds like tired, howling machines
Spurring and sputtering, never-ending their onwards trek

Swallowing distances and with it, nameless faces
Nameless places
For nothing has gone without the occulent scratching hands taking hold

Today the earthquakes of death
Don't make the land shake anymore
For it has learned to cope
With the desolate cemeteries filled with mute bones

Today burns like gasoline
Looks like intestines decorating destroyed doors
Today it rains curdled crimson

Tell me shooting star
If the child liked  jam on his toast
Did he snore?
Did he like math? Or english?
Shooting star doesn't know and neither the bombs.

As bodies fall from trees
like rotten plums.

The world was born in blood
And has not ceased to suckle its wounds
Endless blood thirst, Endless war
But not endless skin to bleed
Penelopejayde Apr 2015
The upbringing of a person could lead to a frivolous publican.
A brother and sister are both witnessing the featherbrained fool.
This world we live in is a bit bamboozle

Escaping to a state of ecstasy with your purple kaleidoscope why don't we shape the future and use cinnamon soap.

With your undercoats it's an antidote for a hurtful situation
It's like we are burning in ice.
Your a magician but you can't stop stupid.

Adolescents knowing the need to finish yet they are taking over to much to cope.
So now they are discovering, considering, cinnamon soap.
My first poem
Traveler Feb 22
Woke up this morn
Everything felt right
Oh how I wish
With all my might
To leave behind
The burdens in tow
All that disturbs me
Let it all go
But then again
I've been here before
Running from demons
That cling to my core
......
Traveler Tim
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tzhW3xz87S8

I'll be back!
Sara Svensson Nov 2018
I had been wandering blindly in darkness, then you found me

You brought with you the sun and it has been shining through the clouds ever since

How am I now to cope with being alone in the dark, once more?

When in the light I was learning to see
girl gonzo Jan 2018
I drink pink grapefruit flavored drinks
my face smells like the citrus
when I lose things and people
I change my hair
it helps me cope with the idea that I can never finish a stick of lip balm and most of the people I've known only yield disappointment
no one is at fault here
but the blame is usually pushed into my intestines
and I spend five days throwing up
I used to be afraid that I would never see the entire world
now I'm afraid I'll never spend enough time in a place I can call home
every morning the smell of grapefruit grows stronger
this is a poem about grapefruits
Jack Jenkins Jul 2018
I'll always regret losing you
I'll never get to say I'm sorry
The pain you gave
Does not compare
To the pain I allowed
Hating you
I hurt you
Robbed the memories of us
Twisted everything around
I'm sorry for that
I've learned to cope
To accept
To take things one
D̶a̶y̶
Drink
At a time
//On her, life, and addiction//
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