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zebra Sep 2017
if you are schizophrenic a small voice will tell you what number to press
if you are co-dependent someone will press 2 for you
if you are paranoid we know where you are and know what you want and we will trace your call
if you are depressive it does not matter no one will answer you
if you have multiple personalizes press 3456
if you are dyslexic press 696969696969
if you have a nervous disorder fidget with # key until the beep, after the beep, please wait for the beep  
if you are obsessive compulsive press 1 repeatedly
if you are delusional press 7 and the mothership will answer you
author unknown
xmelancholix Dec 2018
I want to do it.
I want to.
I want to do it slowly, and I want to lie on the ground.
I don't want to get up.
I dialed the hotline again only to hang up.
I know I can't because then you would too.
That would be worse.
Your mom and family.
I'm so far away,
it'd barely make a difference.
Why won't you talk to me like you used to.
I'm beginning to think I'm just some sort of
muse to hurt you in small ways that
turn into big ways to
turn into songs for me to
turn over and listen to
while I want to do it.
I want to.
I want to do it slowly, and lie underground.
it's fine
Angela Liyanto Sep 2018
I would imagine my shoes full of broken wineglass
     and I would bicker, shoot, hum, wring
     carefully take them all out,
     with my godcrazed sweaty hands
I would see hallucinatory men in love, all destroyed with jarring
     scars on their arms because of the Great War,
     wrestle each other to steaks in the dead beach
     moaning with their twenty year old cigars
     still in their tortured mouths
I would see children playing at Dawn,
     They never grow older, always the age of eight
     They all played games with me, especially
     In those Westfield overblown supermarkets
I would dream of a pure Strawberry Field's kingdom,
     With John Lennon’s flannel shirts and a picture
     of some artist’s wife wanting to jump off the Brooklyn bridge
     Thinking I’m related to Napoleon
     who I forgotten about, ever since we left Chinatown that day.

So I called the twenty four hour hotline, where all the suicidal people call in the middle of the night,
      groaning in my bathtub, thinking of my visions,
      knowing one thing, I cried,
      “ I don’t want to turn into a cockroach like Gregor did!”
Instead I turned into a Shakespearean agony girl in two days,
     and wrote dramas in my room at midnight
     hissing of the mistreatment of slaves back in 1821.

After, I wept of the romances of the guiltless terraces in the tiny
     exhaustible corners of the street, in the abandoned libraries,
     and went back to school half-insane filled with gibberish stanzas
     and academics that sounded like more gibberish.

Then, I was I crowned with pinnacle ‘Madness of Thou Brain and Sick Oblivion, with auditory hallucinations’

I gave my one synapse yell to my only friend in town, and they all
     sent me to some institution where I felt more belonging than I
     did in eight years.

I met a girl who was planning to read To **** A Mockingbird in an hour,

I met a boy from Juvie who smoked too much and took too many pills

I met a boy who was just as sick as me, we played Twister in the
     dark until the nurses caught us holding hands,
     I never saw him again after that.

I met a girl who completed her suicide two days before her
     discharge.

Can you see it yet? In the tiny inexhaustible corners of the streets?
     In the abandoned libraries?

In little time, my generation will beat their visions to the streets,
     their innovation will rise to daring freshness.
A poem that reflects the society of modern times, a hallucinogenic mess of questions, but still somehow surviving and standing firm in its ideas.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2018
Master, this was said to me
should I be triggered or flogged?
Think Sisyphus happy.

What year is this?

Babble, babble, all around me, no
God, not this, again.

It's all in yer head, keep rollin' the rock.
keepin time, makin rime rimey rime
frees icicles on my beard
if you could see me now,

Hell, who imagined this?
I am Sisyphus happy and Sysifus sad,
now for as long as I care to recall

I roll the rock.

It was the hell I had envisioned, since
Camus at least, probably something triggered,
seventh grade, oh
cliché, except
the details, the evil, as seen in the thirteenth
year of an unwombed man's journey, womb to tomb.

I rolled the rock.
Alone as all hell, bored as hell.
food and drink, folly to think
so I stop thinking about them

as if someone thinks I can and I think I can.
Let's doit
daydream cliché, same seventh grader asks
Diane Wescott if he can kiss her
under the water
at the deep end of the public pool

Like Tarzan and Jane and she said yes,
again and again and again
like the expert's rats that are allowed
to suicide on big pharma grade *******

Wahoo, that got the rock rollin'
like I never thought she would now

yah, Jah, know what I mean,
Billie Jean, the kid coulda been mine

But I was rockin' and rollin' all night long,
notime, noo time ah tahlllll

Some minds may imagine Sisyphus happy,
but up to not too long
ago
I fail, failed am failing to re
call member hotline
now,
Matrix Wachowskie, bact to your box,

I am haunted by that movie, in 2018
keyphrase 2018 trigger Matrix movie 1
not the movie, the idea of endless bullets.

Who imagined that,
Hell, this is easy. Right, two persona one person sort of
story, no, too, Jekyl n Heckle

I can think any thing as long
as I roll the rock. This will go on forever,
as far as I can tell.

Rock and roll will live forever, let's take that
as a given, and just ignor the steady
up and down, resistance to punching down force goes up and release,
the rock rolls as far as Luck would have it, statically, probably

pause. breathe, read

The rhythm varies, I'm in forever, not in hell.
Push.
A page or two from a journey throu reality from a happy sisyphean POV
dania Sep 22
made you a book of coupons
one good, for each day
"wash the car"
or "put the dishes away"

but we fought that morning
and i ran away, too
stayed out hiding
terrified of you

things were never the same
home replaced by a freshly mounted circus
whose starring act was me juggling your blame
and it wasn’t the same!
you can’t take love and turn it into a game!
you can’t lay your claim! and claim to love me all the same!  
    
because games cause accidents and accidents cause crashes and crashes come with smashes and
smashes caused the cracks in my glass world of safety to appear
no longer safe here

home where safety was no longer a guarantee
get your comfort by hugging your knee
no one who cares for you more than me

normalcy is chaos
when we’re out of practice

normalcy opens up roads to baseline,
just slightly above lifeline
when it feels more like the punchline
and I really wanna call a HOTLINE  

nothing felt like it did
the feelings in the objects and experiences around me suspended
all normalcy PRETENDED
tell everyone I’m alright!
as I sink in fight after fight after fight

I split into two  
terrified of me after I was terrified of you
sliding permanently out of my groove
couldn’t even tell ya my next move

nothing felt like it did
and so i took my book of coupons
and i hid it between a
book on growing up and a
book on being young

i hoped you wouldn't see it
and yet i hoped you would too

i hoped you would want to change
i hoped you would want us to be good again
that you'd take me up on my offer

I’d wash the car, I’d put the dishes away
and we can be a family again
Hello Daisies Nov 2018
The words are pouring out of me
The thoughts scramble in my head
As i lay in stress in this bed

I'm so deeply depressed
I write this out loud for all to see
And everyone says go seek therapy

It's like a shock when they hear
I am already seeking professional help and couseling
So they assume I'm fine and let the phone just ring

Everyone thinks the gesture of the hotline is good enough
Never stopping to realize i know the number
That's supposed to stop me from my eternal slumber

No one ever thinks
That a simple hug or being around
Could help someone keep their feet on the ground

If once someone could be there and listen while i cry
Just as simple as knowing someones there to comfort me in the dark
It would help me keep a little bit of spark

But I've learned all too well
People are inherently selfish as of late
They can't stop to help you with all that's on their own plate

Now i don't want to be the ***** who thinks she's better then all
Im just saying what i believe to be true
No one has ever stopped to help when I'm deep in blue

Unless i came crying and begging to them
Even then it takes them time before they'll stop to see if I'm okay
Becuase they have more important things then if I'll decide to live another day

I myself am selfish as can be
But i always tried to fight it and stop to help anyone in need
But to expect that from another is what's truly selfish of me
im just not ok and no matter of tberapy or meds seems to be helping. No one is ever around for me to even just be a normal friend amd thats really weighing. Guess life alone is fine too.
You cared too much about me
I guess that's why it hurt when you stopped
I never really needed constant reassurance,
But you told me I was beautiful anyway

I guess you don't know what you have until it's gone
right?
Because without you, I feel really cheated on my feelings
I don't know where to go
Because you were the place I went to
When I was alone
When I was breaking
You were my safe haven

I still have your number on my phone
Like a suicidal hotline to call when I'm feeling down
Like a counselor to talk to at school when anxiety kicks in
But yet I never call
Because you're too busy now
And I don't want to step on your life

Yes, it hurts you're gone away
It hurts that I'm a selfish person and forgot you have a life
It hurts that I forgot that a lot of people look to you the same way in the same time
But at one point, you only had time for me
Now our time, is their time
I still feel cheated

But you aren't 911
You aren't promised to always show up when I need help
You aren't my guardian angel
It's not your responsibility to watch over me
It just hurts that you did anyway

You cared too much about me
You loved me too much, even though you never said it
You showed it
And it still hurts
But am I brokenhearted?

I don't know.
You were never mine.
.01/this is middle school
Every door I knock
it's closed
Who to blame for

I seek the answer
But I'm deaf
to myself

Who the **** am I?
All I love
becoming obsessive and heavy
Reason won't ease this pain
Heart has totally tangled it up
Total state of war
how can I stop it

Your arms, your arms,
your love, your love
Did I **** it? My hotline to the world...
I need to let you know
that I love you so
but I am at war, war, war

It seems impossible, that this be over.
Yet it hurts, so it's not the answer.
I've been here before, when I was lost.

I try to think of something positive,
but the black always comes back for me.
It gets in the way of everything.
My thoughts are not mine again.
And I get this sickly pleasure
in the war
I see the wounds heal
and I start to think
that it brings me joy to be here

I am so tangled up.
Connor Apr 5
It seems that the American education system values
A's on tests and higher rankings more than
The mental health of the students
who there would be no high rankings
Or A's on tests without.

Everyday I'm trying to lift myself up
Because I see myself as a
horrible, gross, ugly, aggressive,
worthless, useless, clingy, hell-bound person.
I know I am not a completely good person,
But I know that I don't want others to
Feel like I do.

No one should have to feel like
Everyday will come to nothing and
That friends won't miss you and
That people will get over you at some point and
That it wouldn't matter if you killed yourself
Because you don't make a difference.

I want to be there to lift others up
In areas where I can't lift myself and
Just let them know that
It's okay to not be okay, that
Someone loves you and
I will always be one of those people, that
I'll be there even if no one else is, that
If it's 2AM and you're suicidal that
You call me or some kind of hotline
And we'll get this sorted out together.

11% of adolescents will have developed depression
by the time they turn 18.
That is not okay.
Students are reported to Guidance
when something is amiss.
Guidance counselors are there to
help with scheduling and possibly developing
academic and social skills.
They are not knowledgeable about mental health,
and lots of times teens with depression
interact with people less and
as a result lack crucial social skills for
getting jobs that fit the academic goals that
we're told matter so much that
we think that sometimes the letter grades
on paper matter more than the student
who studied for hours to
earn that grade.

1 in 6 high schoolers have solemnly considered suicide
1 in 12 will attempt suicide, that number is increasing.
The education system needs to change
In how they handle mental health.

The world needs to change
How it handles mental health.

It's killing us.
My third and final poem for the slam contest I'm entering! I audition tomorrow and I'm extremely glad that I don't need any of them memorized until the 17th, when we have a dress rehearsal.
I'm sorry it really isn't very good, but I need three by tomorrow at 10AM so yeet
Greg Jones Oct 2018
We were driving 95, thought we’d stay here for the night
In Bay Shore.
The party waits til I arrive so we start the night off right
In Bay Shore.
Summer nights keep rolling,
And the night is ours, we own it.
All my fears and regrets postpone it,
Just hold it, for a moment.
Is it the salt air deep in my pores
That allures me back to the shore?
There’s something so real about Bay Shore.
Oh Bay Shore…

These city lights on the skyline
Keeps calling me on the hotline.
I’m not coming home.
At least for the week but I’m feeling guilty.
‘Cause I can’t admit I’m cheating on Charm City.

I’m just following the beat
To the beach right up the street
In Bay Shore.
Take the boat out for the day
While the sun’s out on display
In Bay Shore.
And I know I’m being bold
But I could see me growing old
In Bay Shore.
And the whole city’s my friend,
How could anything contend
With Bay Shore?

Melody’s from the ocean
Always seems to entice my emotions.
Thinking how we left words unspoken,
And we really got nowhere at all,
So broken.
You and Charm City left me so jaded
While my feelings became so faded.
Whatever I lost I’ll find it
But I’m reminded

These summer nights on the shore line
Soothes my senses, keeps me inclined
To call this home.

— The End —