"misdiagnosed" poems - Hello Poetry

I’m toxic A little psychotic I take zyprexa, an anti-psychotic, I don’t know if it’s working My own fault though, I keep self medicating I take the pills they prescribe and they help but not when my mind is racing Speed, it’s ironic really Because it slows me down and I am able to function I can show affection and my emotions seep out of my bones But it causes everyone to leave me alone Is it my fault? Is it something misdiagnosed? I don’t know, I only know how I feel and I use when I don’t know how to deal Life is roaring rapids, I fall out and slowly drown from what has a hold of me I don’t know what else to do but self medicate Its another thing I use, a crutch When I can’t stand by myself and don’t reach out to anyone else I’ve lost my mind, I tell everyone I’m fine I’m always thinking of a line whether it be drugs or a rhyme I’m not kind on the come down and I hate my entire being when I’m rude to my mom If I were to have a clone I’d beat the **** out of myself and tell her what’s really wrong She makes sure I have what I need especially when I wretch my sadness all over the floor She never shuts the door in my face when I need a place, without her I would be misplaced One night she was shrieking and it doesn’t matter that she was drinking The feelings were in the air, they were something tangible that I could grasp without being an *** I saw sadness, rejection, neglect, frustration, anger although it’s a secondary emotion and that’s what she uses to mask her raw emotions I saw hatred, not for me, but the addict inside me She’s the only one who doesn’t call me crazy, she lays in bed with me when I feel like I’m not in control She does breathing exercises with me when I really just want to fall I make a lot of commotion and she still loves me as her son I am all of the above when on drugs, my heart still hurts but I’m full on love My family and friends have been pouring it into me and that’s the only thing keeping me going I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it again, without the love there’s no reason to be alive. Without the love, it’s failure to thrive. Without the love, I won’t survive.

0

Apr 8, 2021

Apr 8, 2021 at 1:26 AM UTC

codyjon

A moms love

I’m toxic A little psychotic I take zyprexa, an anti-psychotic, I don’t know if it’s working My own fault though, I keep self medicating I take the pills they prescribe and they help but not when my mind is racing Speed, it’s ironic really Because it slows me down and I am able to function I can show affection and my emotions seep out of my bones But it causes everyone to leave me alone Is it my fault? Is it something misdiagnosed? I don’t know, I only know how I feel and I use when I don’t know how to deal Life is roaring rapids, I fall out and slowly drown from what has a hold of me I don’t know what else to do but self medicate Its another thing I use, a crutch When I can’t stand by myself and don’t reach out to anyone else I’ve lost my mind, I tell everyone I’m fine I’m always thinking of a line whether it be drugs or a rhyme I’m not kind on the come down and I hate my entire being when I’m rude to my mom If I were to have a clone I’d beat the **** out of myself and tell her what’s really wrong She makes sure I have what I need especially when I wretch my sadness all over the floor She never shuts the door in my face when I need a place, without her I would be misplaced One night she was shrieking and it doesn’t matter that she was drinking The feelings were in the air, they were something tangible that I could grasp without being an *** I saw sadness, rejection, neglect, frustration, anger although it’s a secondary emotion and that’s what she uses to mask her raw emotions I saw hatred, not for me, but the addict inside me She’s the only one who doesn’t call me crazy, she lays in bed with me when I feel like I’m not in control She does breathing exercises with me when I really just want to fall I make a lot of commotion and she still loves me as her son I am all of the above when on drugs, my heart still hurts but I’m full on love My family and friends have been pouring it into me and that’s the only thing keeping me going I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it again, without the love there’s no reason to be alive. Without the love, it’s failure to thrive. Without the love, I won’t survive.

33

We'll never move forward as a society as long as our children are left to die from abuse , sold for *** like a piece of meat , bullied by their peers and killed on our streets .. Depression misdiagnosed by primary physicians and medicines that only help half of the affected , high suicide rates amongst our young civilians and soldiers alike , addiction rates that continue to spike .. When the nails rain down again we'll most certainly be caught off guard , zealots hung by their thumbs and water boarded will lead the charge . Martyrs in shackles will fan the flames at the base of the tower once again .. Woefully few ambulances will be available to minister to the dying , not enough heroes to answer their cries , political parties will begin their denial , those that remain will swear revenge against "the Cowards .." A faith will be declared illegal and guilty , this time the Eagle will have zero pity .. She will pursue the same mistakes of previous nations , attempt to firebomb the very soul of a civilization . The Crescent Moon has endured many military occupations , defended a long list of potential aggressors , their bones lie in antiquity , across her deserts and within her cities while the Lion , Eagle and the Bear scar another generation who will in turn castigate her enemies silver cities with relentless terroristic abominations .. I witnessed the carnage in a dream , hate bursting at the seams , flowing like a river down city streets , sweeping the innocents into the storm sewer , oblivious to their screams . We worry so much about nuclear weapons as we wipe each other out with pipe bombs and pistols , we fear chemical weapons while drugs are destroying our nation .. I wonder how far the funds for one missile would go towards treating children with cancer ? The cost of one grenade could feed a homeless man freezing on the street .. The price of one Humvee could provide shelter for the forgotten society tonight in this misguided nation of ours ..

0

Dec 10, 2015

Dec 10, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

A Poem Turned into a Plea

We'll never move forward as a society as long as our children are left to die from abuse , sold for *** like a piece of meat , bullied by their peers and killed on our streets .. Depression misdiagnosed by primary physicians and medicines that only help half of the affected , high suicide rates amongst our young civilians and soldiers alike , addiction rates that continue to spike .. When the nails rain down again we'll most certainly be caught off guard , zealots hung by their thumbs and water boarded will lead the charge . Martyrs in shackles will fan the flames at the base of the tower once again .. Woefully few ambulances will be available to minister to the dying , not enough heroes to answer their cries , political parties will begin their denial , those that remain will swear revenge against "the Cowards .." A faith will be declared illegal and guilty , this time the Eagle will have zero pity .. She will pursue the same mistakes of previous nations , attempt to firebomb the very soul of a civilization . The Crescent Moon has endured many military occupations , defended a long list of potential aggressors , their bones lie in antiquity , across her deserts and within her cities while the Lion , Eagle and the Bear scar another generation who will in turn castigate her enemies silver cities with relentless terroristic abominations .. I witnessed the carnage in a dream , hate bursting at the seams , flowing like a river down city streets , sweeping the innocents into the storm sewer , oblivious to their screams . We worry so much about nuclear weapons as we wipe each other out with pipe bombs and pistols , we fear chemical weapons while drugs are destroying our nation .. I wonder how far the funds for one missile would go towards treating children with cancer ? The cost of one grenade could feed a homeless man freezing on the street .. The price of one Humvee could provide shelter for the forgotten society tonight in this misguided nation of ours ..

9

if i was a twig maybe i'd be able to sleep trunks are fussy roots are cumbersome and you, you are but the smallest bud a dying breed, a life everlasting see-saw my wood-rot rings and make a use for me, will you? i am nothing but oldwivestales and folk songs with long-forgotten lyrics and misread meanings misdiagnosed misused mistaken for missed

0

Mar 13, 2014

Mar 13, 2014 at 6:24 AM UTC

wolfmother

timbre timber

if i was a twig maybe i'd be able to sleep trunks are fussy roots are cumbersome and you, you are but the smallest bud a dying breed, a life everlasting see-saw my wood-rot rings and make a use for me, will you? i am nothing but oldwivestales and folk songs with long-forgotten lyrics and misread meanings misdiagnosed misused mistaken for missed

15

*ooh, watch out... Shaky Stevens is having a go: you spin me right round, baby right round, like a record baby round round - a quiet one in Soho; with your impressions to introduce me to **** apologies in me wedding dressed and savouring the happy-life affair - S & G bemused by Nietzschean decease of god and theatre, 80s pop and the death of opera: communist attack on the bourgeoisie will take anti ante-Marx approach; i quiet enjoy knowing what i know and leaving the rest to mascara and ***** scrutiny of exaggerated libido.* i'll be laughing at you when you conjure up cancer... huh? why not?! you misdiagnosed me as schizophrenic when i suffered a brain haemorrhage - troll anti-antonymous ahoy - you clearly spelled out S U R V I V A L O F T H E F I T T E S T.

0

Jul 7, 2016

Jul 7, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

venom - at the butchers

*ooh, watch out... Shaky Stevens is having a go: you spin me right round, baby right round, like a record baby round round - a quiet one in Soho; with your impressions to introduce me to **** apologies in me wedding dressed and savouring the happy-life affair - S & G bemused by Nietzschean decease of god and theatre, 80s pop and the death of opera: communist attack on the bourgeoisie will take anti ante-Marx approach; i quiet enjoy knowing what i know and leaving the rest to mascara and ***** scrutiny of exaggerated libido.* i'll be laughing at you when you conjure up cancer... huh? why not?! you misdiagnosed me as schizophrenic when i suffered a brain haemorrhage - troll anti-antonymous ahoy - you clearly spelled out S U R V I V A L O F T H E F I T T E S T.

9

*i hate this ******** even writing about it gives me Sartre's nausea, but it's the reality, and as such, given it's reality, it's in-escapable, so there's no point hiding behind a putrefaction of ideals with nice, ear-pleasing sensible words that do not antagonise, let alone engage with dialectics, that sharpened version of what is know to be simply: a conversation, or via Shakespeare: too many stages, too many worlds, too few actors, a load of physicists though, deliberating poly-dimension etc., but too few actors; what a massive Holocaust of subjectivity this scientific positivism came to be... clearer cloning devices are in place than what the Koran invites. they will not convert so easily, having been robbed of communism! the mongolian conversation / connection, i.e. if it worked for the mongolians to become a nation sub- in the geopolitical stratification they say: 'it should have worked for us, but it didn't, we're as dispersed as the jews! and we're met with more anti-semitic remarks around the globe than the ******* Deutsche!* and when the recession hit the majority of european countries poland remained recession free, and when the migrant crisis came the european union abolished the schengen union: zumbi e o senhor das guerras zumbi e o senhor das demandas quando zumbi chega e zumbi quem manda your tribe - our tribe - i.e. **** your little unity project for a café culture; hostility will be met with hostility, or quiet simply right-wing football hooligan marches with a flare for acrobatics of explosives... i didn't want it, as honesty goes i am in debt with Scottish universities and i'm not paying them back... i'm on £120 a week benefits after being misdiagnosed as schizoid... oh look, Michael Myers is smoking a pipe of Hashish in Damascus.

0

May 4, 2016

May 4, 2016 at 9:32 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

und Deutsche

*i hate this ******** even writing about it gives me Sartre's nausea, but it's the reality, and as such, given it's reality, it's in-escapable, so there's no point hiding behind a putrefaction of ideals with nice, ear-pleasing sensible words that do not antagonise, let alone engage with dialectics, that sharpened version of what is know to be simply: a conversation, or via Shakespeare: too many stages, too many worlds, too few actors, a load of physicists though, deliberating poly-dimension etc., but too few actors; what a massive Holocaust of subjectivity this scientific positivism came to be... clearer cloning devices are in place than what the Koran invites. they will not convert so easily, having been robbed of communism! the mongolian conversation / connection, i.e. if it worked for the mongolians to become a nation sub- in the geopolitical stratification they say: 'it should have worked for us, but it didn't, we're as dispersed as the jews! and we're met with more anti-semitic remarks around the globe than the ******* Deutsche!* and when the recession hit the majority of european countries poland remained recession free, and when the migrant crisis came the european union abolished the schengen union: zumbi e o senhor das guerras zumbi e o senhor das demandas quando zumbi chega e zumbi quem manda your tribe - our tribe - i.e. **** your little unity project for a café culture; hostility will be met with hostility, or quiet simply right-wing football hooligan marches with a flare for acrobatics of explosives... i didn't want it, as honesty goes i am in debt with Scottish universities and i'm not paying them back... i'm on £120 a week benefits after being misdiagnosed as schizoid... oh look, Michael Myers is smoking a pipe of Hashish in Damascus.

23

I'm not dreaming, I see it clearly. It's the haunting of a beautiful ghost. Without wings, but a clear, bright, white Sadly her story is misdiagnosed. No one knows how she died, or when, where, and why. We only know what we imagined But this never makes the good, girl, ghost cry. She lives for us to love and care, no matter how sharp the thorns get. She wants us to know our weaknesses, she hopes we never forget. She's a legend no one knows, but we feel her pain, We, together, know her heart She can't live again. A beauty to bright the darkest path, A life with ups and downs. A tragedy more cruel than Romeo and Juliet. When the balance of life drowns. The death of her was the death of me. The pain, I felt it too, A true dream that's heard when an angel sings. only the biggest heart can see The most beautiful thing in the world, The Angel Without Wings.

0

Jul 7, 2013

Jul 7, 2013 at 4:58 PM UTC

deanna

Angel's Without Wings

I'm not dreaming, I see it clearly. It's the haunting of a beautiful ghost. Without wings, but a clear, bright, white Sadly her story is misdiagnosed. No one knows how she died, or when, where, and why. We only know what we imagined But this never makes the good, girl, ghost cry. She lives for us to love and care, no matter how sharp the thorns get. She wants us to know our weaknesses, she hopes we never forget. She's a legend no one knows, but we feel her pain, We, together, know her heart She can't live again. A beauty to bright the darkest path, A life with ups and downs. A tragedy more cruel than Romeo and Juliet. When the balance of life drowns. The death of her was the death of me. The pain, I felt it too, A true dream that's heard when an angel sings. only the biggest heart can see The most beautiful thing in the world, The Angel Without Wings.

26

Angelic choirs spring from the silence Gravity comes from your presence Shaking off my prudence Sail towards my coast Surely there is more to it than this Trying not to fall into the abyss The echo of an unmet kiss Joy a passing ghost Lonely island in a featureless sea Unnoticed as you sailed passed me Standing detached in the library Dreaming of almost

0

Mar 4, 2016

Mar 4, 2016 at 4:52 PM UTC

shaded-lamp

Misdiagnosed

Angelic choirs spring from the silence Gravity comes from your presence Shaking off my prudence Sail towards my coast Surely there is more to it than this Trying not to fall into the abyss The echo of an unmet kiss Joy a passing ghost Lonely island in a featureless sea Unnoticed as you sailed passed me Standing detached in the library Dreaming of almost

12

Forecast was for rain, Misdiagnosed a pain, What we got was mist, That hung in the air, tiny cysts, That clung, to pant legs, To sleeves, to skin and To the glasses, that beheld Them, Like spots before my eyes, As all passed through them. The Collective heaviness, Was not felt but the steadiness, Of the curtain after curtain of, Droplets on fine twine, some seed beaded Macrame, threaded not Threatening, to pass the time as You pass their way, they keep the Peace And soak you as an afterthought. Hippies dripping in love, A mist for the generations.

0

Feb 11, 2015

Feb 11, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC

darrell-wade-elverum

Right as Rain

Forecast was for rain, Misdiagnosed a pain, What we got was mist, That hung in the air, tiny cysts, That clung, to pant legs, To sleeves, to skin and To the glasses, that beheld Them, Like spots before my eyes, As all passed through them. The Collective heaviness, Was not felt but the steadiness, Of the curtain after curtain of, Droplets on fine twine, some seed beaded Macrame, threaded not Threatening, to pass the time as You pass their way, they keep the Peace And soak you as an afterthought. Hippies dripping in love, A mist for the generations.

21

Cannon made of fire Brought down all the people Yes it was because we were never equal Standing on the sun The flames you can keep em Fighting for their right The shadows and the lamp posts Broken and fade with time Overnight All misdiagnosed What is this crime What is this crime Keep the weak oppressed Make em climb the mountain of time Only to tumble Just to feel blessed Inclined to confess Every time that they crumble Now they can impress Eucalyptus Ha, that's just a plant But it can leave you breathless A simple little way They find it enchanting Now let me compress My means and thoughts All these things we possess All the material Then the Mental And some Spiritual Control all the people Some mythical creation Love one another I can tell you Is what you need to profess

0

Dec 26, 2015

Dec 26, 2015 at 7:53 PM UTC

nickblockonelove

a simple confession

Cannon made of fire Brought down all the people Yes it was because we were never equal Standing on the sun The flames you can keep em Fighting for their right The shadows and the lamp posts Broken and fade with time Overnight All misdiagnosed What is this crime What is this crime Keep the weak oppressed Make em climb the mountain of time Only to tumble Just to feel blessed Inclined to confess Every time that they crumble Now they can impress Eucalyptus Ha, that's just a plant But it can leave you breathless A simple little way They find it enchanting Now let me compress My means and thoughts All these things we possess All the material Then the Mental And some Spiritual Control all the people Some mythical creation Love one another I can tell you Is what you need to profess

36

The imminent river, inevitable ride; unwilling passenger, whether the strap snapped, disconnected; Or stuck till final destination, rock bottom. Was all this necessary Im great, Im happy Stop misdiagnosed me Im no other than me neuroses and religion who i am to wish for oblivion one opinion define none On seeking whats the norm and what is wrong. Im trying to live, to fit in Just normally like everybody Normal to me but it isnt what am I, Who I am without I am, was, I will be okay Why it felt like a replay No choice but to compelled Who said its mine to choose Cause it wil be forever replayed For now the strap hold on on repeat, hitting rock bottom Its true the only way left is up no in between, stuck in a time wrap.

0

May 19, 2018

May 19, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC

themoonexisted

The Ride

The imminent river, inevitable ride; unwilling passenger, whether the strap snapped, disconnected; Or stuck till final destination, rock bottom. Was all this necessary Im great, Im happy Stop misdiagnosed me Im no other than me neuroses and religion who i am to wish for oblivion one opinion define none On seeking whats the norm and what is wrong. Im trying to live, to fit in Just normally like everybody Normal to me but it isnt what am I, Who I am without I am, was, I will be okay Why it felt like a replay No choice but to compelled Who said its mine to choose Cause it wil be forever replayed For now the strap hold on on repeat, hitting rock bottom Its true the only way left is up no in between, stuck in a time wrap.

26