I heard the angles calling,
I drowned the voices in a
slurry of precaution and shame.

No more worries, the doctor's
got the cure just drink it
up there's no hurry.

I suffered for their treatments
and child abuse.

Still, the shadows danced
across the wall my mind was
drunk off anxiety and
depression.

My dreams were reality but my
waking hours were all a dream.

Delusions and fantasy all
the same, until the fog lifted
me from the dream.

A little birdie brought me
clear skies and a deep simulator
that opened my eyes.

Now I live in the light,
six wire's are planted inside
my brain sending signals so
I can control my twitching
and contorted frame.

I am a bionic woman, living
no dream just reality.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

I'm not sure there is anything left to say.
Months of tumbling words have passed,
and I've been wringing them out like
hand-washing cashmere:
gently squeezing, and certain they would never stop dripping.

Then today, I sit here, seemingly worded out.
Testing myself with prodding feelings,
using memories as a nerve-stimulator:
waiting for the heartburn.

Perhaps time is chalk, after all.
Smothering the burning acid
of longing and regret
that I thought would never quieten.

Then again, acid tends to etch its pattern
wherever it touches.
So, although the twist of pain
no longer catches me by surprise,
the ripples
of its movement across me
will always be evident.

Head aching, the cage, the skull, torn ripped apart
The stimulator of your body
Exposed to the outside world
Thoughts in your box,  wandering around, seen and vulnerable to judgement
Light bulb flickering at a rapid pace, so fast Staring into space with a blank face
Focusing what thoughts can be seen through the uncaged madness
Slowly diminishing the inner self I kept secret
Loss of words, loss of ideas, loss of character
Diminishing this sacred identity formed from scars of pain
Past experiences that built this wall
Gradually tumbling down, can hear each crack scratch down my ears, seeping through down to the side of my neck, flowing down all the way to my spine
I look around, in deep thought
Asking questions that no answer can possibly fulfill the only answer
Nothing made sense
But we sense things
Through touch,
Through sight,
Through hearing,
Through smell,
And through taste
Until I realized...
The 6th sense
The ability to reach further then any other human being can comprehend.
Realization that
These are your thoughts.
Grasp them tightly and let them blossom 
Allow it to glisten more greater than your deepest imaginations
Take control
Set no limits
Anyone can scan you and base opinion
Judgement is inevitable
Just focus about yourself and push everything around you out of your creative space
There's literally no room at all
Don't be consumed and distracted by worry, insecurities, defensive antics towards the outside realm take up space within your head
Set your mind to constantly generate positive results
Don't think, just let everything flow so that you start to feel
That finally you're not restricted by this cage anymore, the cage where you kept to yourself
Self expression, express yourself
You are free
Freedom to express yourself in any way shape or form
Realize that and your imagination will be your greatest asset to success
Believe in yourself
Don't let others bash you down
Pick yourself up
There's so much more greatness waiting for you
Greatness is just waiting patiently
Until you make the first step.

Snip
The cord was cut
I held you in one hand
Then a stimulator
Called an incubator

Right now
I'm holding on to you
For dear life

Bike riding
Through the twist and turns
We're hiding

You take risks
I would never do
But I have faith
We'll get through

Then I'm into the moment where
There's no moments
Zen

On wintry Texas nights Pat Nixon's luxurious fur-burger trembled beneath Lyndon Johnson's tender Jesuit Oath of the Fourth Vow touch. “PARASITES!!!” Lyndon screamed. “People are riddled with them. It's theorized that spirochetes are responsible for tooth decay.” Thelma Pat turned all pictures to the wall to count the 1,974 lady bird beetles that disrupted her cranial magnetical stimulator.

On wintry Texas nights Pat Nixon's luxuriously-furry fur-burger trembled beneath Lyndon Johnson's tender Jesuit Oath of the Fourth Vow touch. “PARASITES!!!” Lyndon screamed. “People are riddled with them. It's theorized that spirochetes are responsible for tooth decay.” Thelma Pat turned all pictures to the wall to count the 1,974 lady bird beetles that disrupted her cranial magnetical stimulator. Do not ****** me vile temptress, for mine is the glory in repudiation.