"undiagnosed" poems
i have anxiety
undiagnosed.
sometimes it feels like my head is stuffed with crumpled ***** of paper: the things I never said, the things I should have never said, the things that someone never said to me.
all of these things are written on every piece of paper
there are so many right now that no more would be able to fit
yet i can't stop thinking things, i can't stop saying stupid things, i can't stop wishing things.
i sigh I reach up to my forehead and i grasp my bangs
with my shaky hands and pull
i'm hoping one day when i do this
the top of my head will yank open
all of these crumpled pieces of thoughts
will pour out in a pile
on the floor
i will kneel down
and uncrumple each and every piece
i will read each one
until my head fills up again.
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 11:42 PM UTC
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Never saying that I officially have those, to be ficitious,
Cause I am breaking and pushing all borders.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
In school labelled as the kid who was mischievous,
obeying orders, so ****** disorded.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
hating social interaction, dark thoughts, labelled as malicious,
Still loving hobbies and education, still ambitious.
Suffering from Undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Behaviours yet still suspicious,
is it undiagnosed mental illness and disorders, that are tralatitious.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
From Depression, Suicide tendencies, Autism spectrum and ADHD,
Taking medication that suppose to help, clearly does and doesn't.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
From Depression, Suicide Tendencies, Autism spectrum and ADHD,
I don't say am like every other who suffers from mental illness or other disorders.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Obesity isn't always a disorder,
A Small part of obesity is generics or health conditions,
A large part of obesity is the choice based upon society.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Laziness is a mental, gaming is now a mental illness,
Kids that want no job, nothing to achieve, no physician needed,
Kids thinking that they are doctors, internet search and diagnosis,
believing in self taught self hypnosis.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Childhood, I was very precocious,
Leaving friends, family and parents, Ferocious.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
behaviours of mine never when unnotice,
Angry was always explosive,
Never been seen for the symptom shown, never reaching an prognosis.
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 7:22 AM UTC
My visual field flashes white in a moment of highest swelling heart
white light dissipates following blackness of my hearts lowest sundried hurt
my view of oppressively low hung clouds questions any earthly sensation, twerked torture
of a selfinflicted radiation of irredeemable gloom, hung by self
The acrid ebony of my soul dissipates to an antique comfort with love stretched infinity
I then breathed an atmosphere of sorrow; snapped, shattered infinity into a pile of broken windows
My call of a family of evil given in an intolerable agitation and searched remedy
led to be found abandoned within a continual struggle of grim phantasm
Necessity spake in me, called one milihelen enough to launch my remaining ship
a cadavorness of complexion, forced portside of me when crystal ships started to drip with lies
a guttural utterance whispered blankly, alluded keine endurance
as I could only wear certain textures, and not endure the physical elements of this sensory deprived flower
My conjured will, looks upon the morbid moral of an undiagnosed existence
if not unreservedly found in the recesses of self
rosie cheeks forced not by pleasure, but screamed excitement of eternal enjoyable nothing
as my visual field flashes white with a moment of highest swelling heart
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 9:30 PM UTC
-Undiagnosed-
Pray, don’t pity me,
For I do take blame
That I pity myself
And thus suffer this pain,
And please don’t mock
For there are greater ills
And more the deaths,
My suffering is nil.
Then perhaps
You’d maim my diet,
The lack of sun and
Poor exercise.
I need not even ask
How I’d improve my life,
When the bones sap my vigor
and seem to swell overnight.
And how could I ever try to say
That I see darkness when I go my way,
Pins and needles as I stand,
When the fault is mine anyway?
I shouldn’t even start to think
How my head throbs and pounds all night,
It’s surely because I don’t wake up with the sun.
But how do I wake when I don’t close my eyes?
Now, could it possibly be
You decided that I don’t rest,
That all this pain causes fatigue,
That sleep, you think, is for the best?
Consider when after hours and hours
My body finally dreams in defeat,
Would anyone care to do my work
If I shirk it off to get more sleep?
If the animals end up ill fed,
And the duties are not supervised,
With what peace do I lie in bed,
When it could be done better otherwise?
And so here I do write at six,
With my jaw stiff and eyes bright,
The wires of pain gently shift
Every time I move my hand to write.
What could I wake anyone for,
When painkillers don’t **** enough?
Just to say I cannot sleep?
I’d hear ‘wake up then, be tough’.
So do not again
Bid me to be strong,
Unless you tell the blind to see.
Well dear sir,
There’s no argument for that,
Except, please let me be.
What indeed could you try to cure
When I’m just deficiencies,
Of wit and courage, also strength,
Calcium may be imaginary.
But truly, I do agree,
With the opinion you selflessly endure.
For evidently
Nothing’s wrong with me,
And the pain one must learn to ignore.
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
Living a hypochondriacs dream,
Because my pain is one that is real.
Everyone says I'm fine,
But I know my own body because my body is mine,
Life developing as a double exposure,
In two places at once and contained in a tight enclosure,
Here I am with no sense of closure,
I will dream of running away,
Throwing my possessions away,
Put my worry to rest,
Before I am the one put to rest.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 9:54 AM UTC
The Dragon's Egg
To understand my addiction
You have to know the
Back-story.
I was born in the dead of
Winter. Wednesday's child...
Full of woe. I was a preemie.
Mom fell on her stomach while
On a chair trying to change a
Lightbulb. As unpreposessing
A child as ever was born...
I won't go into my childhood
Difficulties too much, as they
Might prompt your judgment
Upon my parents. They were
Not really at fault. They did
The best they could based
Upon their childhoods and
Limitations....
Mom was sick.
A great deal. The victim of
Horrific migraine headaches
And an undiagnosed (therefore
Untreated) bi-polar condition.
She had aspirations of being an
Actor. She really should never
Have had three children. She
Simply couldn't handle it. I was
Born only 16 months after her
Firstborn, my sister Chris. This
Definitely didn't help matters.
Then, because my little brother
Mark was born just as her
Acting career took off, she had
Much less time for my sister
And I. She had a newborn, a
Career, a husband and
Postpartum depression. Chris
And I (and eventually Mark)
Were neglected. Not really
Mom's fault. It was what
It was...
Dad was a complex man.
A hot-tempered stoic. A hard
Worker who hated manual
Labor. A war hero who also
Became a runner (he would
Become a severe
Alcoholic - an addiction he
eventually overcame).
A generous miser.
A cultured plebian.
A spiritually minded atheist.
I don't blame him. But the
Last dichotomy was our
Downfall. We were
disallowed from church. Went
To an atheist Sunday School.
We learned about all the world
Religions save Christianity.
Or maybe I missed THAT lesson.
But as a result I had no real
Moral compass to live by. My
Parents tried to teach us
Ethical behavior, but because
Jesus and the Holy Spirit weren't
A part of the equation it was
Doomed to failure. One can't
Simply be "moral" or "ethical".
Without Jesus, we are all
Rank sinners. Sorry if this
Offends some of you. But it's
TRUE. Jesus paid the price.
Only faith in Him can make
A person right with the Father.
All else is vanity. My father
Spent his lifetime trying to be
A "good" man. He tried to
Be a "good" husband. A "good"
Father. But his efforts
Always stymied by lack
Of the essential puzzle piece....
JESUS.
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 7:08 PM UTC
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Never saying that I officially have those, to be ficitious,
Cause I am breaking and pushing all borders.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
In school labelled as the kid who was mischievous,
obeying orders, so ****** disorded.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
hating social interaction, dark thoughts, labelled as malicious,
Still loving hobbies and education, still ambitious.
Suffering from Undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Behaviours yet still suspicious,
is it undiagnosed mental illness and disorders, that are tralatitious.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
From Depression, Suicide tendencies, Autism spectrum and ADHD,
Taking medication that suppose to help, clearly does and doesn't.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
From Depression, Suicide Tendencies, Autism spectrum and ADHD,
I don't say am like every other who suffers from mental illness or other disorders.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Obesity isn't always a disorder,
A Small part of obesity is generics or health conditions,
A large part of obesity is the choice based upon society.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Laziness is a mental, gaming is now a mental illness,
Kids that want no job, nothing to achieve, no physician needed,
Kids thinking that they are doctors, internet search and diagnosis,
believing in self taught self hypnosis.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Childhood, I was very precocious,
Leaving friends, family and parents, Ferocious.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
behaviours of mine never when unnotice,
Angry was always explosive,
Never been seen for the symptom shown, never reaching an prognosis.
Nov 14, 2020
Nov 14, 2020 at 4:56 AM UTC
Today I decided to write a trilogy about the woman I loved and still do love.
Something I never shared with others before.
Perhaps because I trapped us into a pretentious bubble for years.
Amongst other things.
I would have left me too.
While at times she had no room to breathe.
She loved me, and all my undiagnosed baggage.
She listened to me,
she made me feel safe.
Something no one has made me feel in years.
I've written about a few but never her.
Whether she comes back to me or not,
She's the only person I've ever loved.
Sep 7, 2022
Sep 7, 2022 at 11:22 AM UTC
She is the fireplace which radiates inside my rib cage
My insurance for when my thoughts crash, and we both know they will
My perfect prescription for illnesses undiagnosed
My introduction to the kid formally known as myself
My captain, my first mate, and the wind in my sails
She is my
She. is
the pillow i rest my head upon and the director of my dreams and to others she may appear as one number but her beauty, oh her beauty, is pi
oh how i wish,
she could here,
how she is
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
mostly undiagnosed ghosts host coast roasts
and no one shows
haunted wind blows going slow
dethroning grown men being sown
unknown gnomes debone stones
throwing plumbs at scrub jays
whilst listless fitness ****** insist
on resisting mystic visions
implicitly –
ragtag gag gifts for bags
smoking **** with saggy pants
chancing protagonists
and prancing fisters
wrist rocket **** pocket
time, clock it
rock it sock it
don’t mock
interlocking bicarbonates
wait for the ingrate to **********
and regulate the regurgitation –
****** ancestrally protestors
digest their disgust
discussing muskrats as lab cats
basking in the glow of white coats –
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
Am truly grateful for hosting you
In my life you lived like a superstar
More popular than the TV soaps.
In the Hollywood of my friends you shinned,
Before disaster was born to us
We made thousands of decisions
But Never was fate included.
Many had made glorious entries
But unbearable departure.
It was intended to love and never to hate
To have and never to loose.
What would you do if one morning
All joy turned to fear (dreams to past)
Hopes into sorrow
To chase so shortly
And gone too soon
I presumed I was preventive
But it happened; like death steals the living.
A disease undiagnosed
With no announcement to make.
Have got no more to chase
Cause the choice isn’t mine to make.
The beauty and fantasies
Now buried in disappointment .
Your face smiles with hatred and shame
………..Shalom to you
Who crippled the Love that I had
And washed my efforts to dust
Nothing left to protect
Rather all left to the blowing wind
To determine its direction and destiny.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 5:13 AM UTC
I sit here...
Undiagnosed.
Myriad symptoms
that tell a thousand stories.
Plethora of aches
that divulged
where things may have veered off course.
Those around offered what they could.
I face open palms daily
and I recognise them to be
gestures of good will and empathy.
I accept with only appreciation and gratitude.
But the wisest could only
provide uncertainty at best.
This is me.
And I'm undiagnosed.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 7:52 AM UTC
Un-belonging
Undressed from teenage rhythm.
It’s a yearning for
The lost birds
Whose wings you rode
In talkless flight,
Til the silence got thicker
And woke up
Under the acupuncturist’s shadow.
And it needled it’s point as
Chinese wisdom, or as a well-meaning homeopath.
It dawdled all the same.
And you’re all sat right there.
Submurged. Happy as reflections.
Like an underwater photograph,
Mermaid’s song, gargles
Like the frog in my throat.
Almost Bauhaus, Picasso,
Almost watercolour, a mockingbird’s
Impression of a rock.
It was just
Undiagnosed sickness and I’m
Wading slowly into the sea with
my parents stones in my pocket.
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 12:25 PM UTC
The undiagnosed.
The pain I feel,
Living without diagnosis,
Angers me much,
Beause I can't tell those closest.
The stigma it has,
Would **** my career,
My friends would all run,
For that I do fear.
In the gutter one day,
The next I'm on Mars,
Laying in bed,
Or speeding in cars.
For I do wish too know,
What's inside my head,
Mentally ill?
Or creative instead?
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 2:32 PM UTC
at this point in my life I still haven't figured out my purpose yet. Some of my friends act like they do, but probably don't. Some of my worst flaws is my obsession with escaping reality which usually causes problems, but who can blame me? Nobody will ever understand how difficult it is to live the way I do, everything I try I eventually hate. I haven't been proud of myself since late 2014 for taking a step towards my pursuit of happiness which got me out of the rut I'd call depression and suicidal tendencies. It's been two years without a suicidal thought and honestly life is great, however The difficulty of living for me is truly my anxiety and probably undiagnosed behavioral issues I probably should seek guidance on but, who knows. My anxiety isn't a crutch for me to build excuses for my actions, it's far worse. My anxiety causes me to feel tense constantly and causes my constant paranoia, it makes me skip meals, and eventually ruins just about everything for me. It causes me to constantly complain and it causes me to never truly rest. My anxiety is the devil on my shoulder and I just can't get him to leave. It truly digs the deepest when I am confronted about the issues it causes for me because I too want to change those things about me that it brings out but I can't, and that's what scares me. I can't figure out how to fix these flaws. Most recommend medication and prescriptions for it but prescription dependency is too much of a dark road for me (not that I've ever had an addiction problem). Some people think anxiety is an excuse but it's not. It's the reason I haven't had fingernails since I discovered biting them off helped me not shake. It's the reason why the inside of my cheeks have abrasions since i constantly chew on it when I get nervous. It's the reason why I can't figure out what my purpose is, Because that devil tells me everyday, give up.
*This devil
Ball and chain
A key made of addiction
that only works temporarily
I want him to go away
But I'm scared of him
And what he would say
His hands clenched tight around my neck
But left no mark
His tail drew a trail
To lure me in the dark
I wish he'd tell me everything is alright
But he won't
Because if he did
he'd eventually just tell me he's lying.
I want this devil to leave
I want this devil to let me be
I want this devil to give me my thoughts
I want this devil to stop*
***Disclaimer: this isn't a cry for help, this isn't woe is me. These are my thoughts. ***
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
why can’t I go back?
to simpler times
four stanza rhymes
limes and minds intertwined
its become unkind
joy declined
plagued by lack of bread
I said bread
loafs
hold the fishes
flakey cakes baked
flat pita meat and cheese
**** gluten free diabetes
self-imposed
undiagnosed
just following my nose
the bird says “it always knows”
back when cereal wasn’t genetically engineered
something to be feared
not for a child to be reared
mirrored in the exterior
fake tans dot the land
useless hands
clandestine
hidden
gridiron lockdown
drowning
clowning
seeking peace from beastly yeast
creased forehead
brow disjointed
appointed anointed one undone
no guns
sunshine fabrication
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
I was a preemie.
Fate tried to **** me
Before I was born.
My poor beleaguered mom
Fell off a chair while pregnant
With me... thus did I come
Into the world.
Beat up from the feet up
And lookin' like a prune...
My childhood was horrific.
I have huge holes in memory.
I can only tell you I was
Starved of love and terribly
Neglected. Mercifully
I don't recall the molestation
And assault I know I endured.
It wasn't my parent's fault.
My father worked 16 hour days
And mom had blinding migraines.
And undiagnosed behavioral
Health problems. She is bi-polar.
But what I remember most vividly
Are the trips to visit my mother's
Sister and her family.
In the Sangre De Cristo
Mountains of New Mexico
Up above Taos.
My mind touched furred mountains
And inhaled the aromas
Of sounds... aspen's disc leaves
Sibilantly soughing
And the Red River flowing
Through resplendent green.
Indian paintbrush and columbine
Sparking on the verges of roads
And nodding their soft blue heads
Respectively.
Once we took a hike to
Horseshoe lake, and
Caught flashing trout,
Their scales making rainbows
To grace their silver sides.
We ate well that night!
On the way home it rained.
A cold, piercing downpour
That soaked our clothes.
All the other kids cried.
But not me.
I was in fairyland.
Coming from the
Sonoran desert I've always
Loved the rain...
The rest of my life I fared
Little better as far as fate
Meted me out a VERY tough
Hand. But I remember
The long hikes on Venice Beach
boardwalk... I walked 8-10 miles
A day. And lost a total of 138 lbs.
I've had to fight like Muhammad Ali
For every square inch of joy.
But I still float like a butterfly...
... and I really try to put a cap
On my stinger. I have one.
But I want to go through this life
As wise as a serpent... gentle as a dove.
Because now I know that
all I've gone through
Had a definite purpose.
I'm a Blues Brother's sister...
... on a mission from God.
*But it's never about ME.
IT'S ABOUT
H I M.*
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
Lying in my bed
everything is dark
save one cell phone
the screen glowing
like dim blue luminol
sprayed on old blood
The room is packed
with various screams
desire from years ago
unchecked and ignored
an undiagnosed patient
My bed is a deserted oasis
circled by cardboard boxes
all filled with old skeletons
mangled and unidentifiable
My phone's battery dies
sudden like a faulty switch
forcing me to accept fate
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 2:58 PM UTC
I am next to you
on the kerb side
about to happen
I’m in your sleep
latent and patient,
inevitable
I am in the water
about you
waiting to envelop
rinse and silence you
I am the bullet
anonymous and inert
until decisive
And I am the spark
the word
the reason
the consequence
Undiagnosed
and undetected
I'm not your nemesis
don’t expect me
But I will be
So don’t predict me
or hate me
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
I'm trying, I really am
But this undiagnosed disease
It has weighed down
For far too long
Crushed
Gasping for breath
Suffocating
I can't hold your hand
Around my throat
For much longer
**** me or kiss me
Because I can't keep living
On this borrowed time
This facade of being fine
Is crumbling at its core
I'll string myself up
Just to stay on two feet
Like a paper hearted Pinocchio
Lying for the first time
Like it was the last time
A tainted ****** too proud
To eat his own words
A familiar taste, regurgitate
**** this palate accustomed
To that pretty face.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 3:01 PM UTC
I’m sorry I have chapped lips. It’s cold out, and they’re from kissing you, at a time when you still wanted to be kissed. It was a long time ago, but know your memory is still missed.
And my crooked smile is not of my own design, but of genetic disrepair and a household too poor to fix such trivial tasks in life. I always thought it was “cute,” or so said you. Plus I always thought it made yours shine.
The sense of not being listened to is a lie, I want you to know. Some form of undiagnosed ADD where I look away when you talk and write stories in my head as I hear every word is what I feel. But I heard it all, every single syllable. And I could recite them all.
I’m sorry my stories are so extravagant, because I’ve always been one for the additives of fiction. Since day one my heart has told me to add more, and sometimes I can’t help but look for the deeper metaphor, even when it’s not there. But I’d stop looking, I swear.
I’m sorry I’m seen as controlling, but my friends all look towards me and thats a hard role to displace when it’s become your everyday life. All I needed was a little more time. And some patience, on your line.
I'm sorry I'm cold at times, with the things I say and the way I seem. It's not always easy being mean.
And I’m sorry I’m so driven to become more than what I’m from, and my dreams lie far beyond the mountains and the clouds above. I can’t help but dream, with the mind I’ve been given and the things I see.
But most of all, I’m sorry none of this was enough for you and me. I'm sorry I couldn't live your dream. I'd be your prince charming if I could have been.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 5:26 AM UTC
STOP; Take your clothes off, it'll be okay, I swear, I'll climb on top
DROP; I don't want to get naked, I'm innocent! I refuse, please stop!
& ROLL; No one will believe you, you're too young;
And they will look at me and think "he's way too old"
STOP; Do as your told and none of this will hurt; I'll be gentle, now get on top
DROP; I don't want to be under you, I don't want to be above you, please, stop!
& ROLL; DO AS YOU'RE TOLD LITTLE GIRL, I'll treat your body like a piece of gold
None of it will hurt if you just obey! But I don't want to be on your pole!
STOP; STOP FUSSING, turn around and lay on your stomach;
Take your shorts and pull them down, if I do it, I won't stop
DROP; Why are you doing this to me?? What did I do to deserve this? PLEASE STOP!!
&ROll; I'm getting sick and tired of listening to you cry and whine,
So shut up and do as you're told!
Been through this with so many different men, I swear they're all the same
I told people, but no one listened because I was too scared to give up their names
So now, I suffer with complex ptsd, and undiagnosed adult ADHD
nightmares that wake me up and cause severe social anxiety,
Forever broken, forever wounded, never healing, forever ******* up mentally
I became an addict for the longest time because of this abuse, especially sexually
I was self harming, trying to overdose, trying to run away;
But with nowhere to run, and no one to tell,
because no one believed anything I had to say
I'm healing now but only as a recovering addict
I turned lesbian for a while and that only covered up the pain
With a woman I really didn't know who she was, pretending with a smile
Swore to myself that I was done and over anything or anyone with a ****
But here I am, finding myself loving someone who took me away from all this
Someone who treats me like the person I deserve to be, the person I need to be
So how come I'm trapped in this mental spiral of all my wrong doings?
Of all my past relationships and all my past abusers?
They wreck havoc in my mind like the sinking titanic ship
Oh god, those nights where I just wanted to hang myself with my very own whip
STOP; Don't let anyone take control over you! SCREAM AND SHOUT STOP!!
DROP; Don't let someone tell you that it's okay, it's normal, it's fun,
KICK THEM SQUARE IN THEIR NUTS AND RUN WHILE YELLING HELP HELP HELP!!
GET THIS MAN AWAY FROM ME AND MAKE HIM STOP!!
& ROLL; NEVER ONCE AGAIN WILL I BE HUSHED, SHUSHED, OR THREATENED NOT TO TELL,
Because everything that's in the dark eventually comes to light,
and that will be the day that these stories come out and are told!!
Stephanie A. Ludwig
04/18/2025
Apr 18, 2025
Apr 18, 2025 at 11:01 PM UTC
Even if it hurts.
You believe.
Put yourself in,
their moccasins,
Kemosabe.
Maybe they've been trudging
up rough terrain
all their lives.
With the cacti and sharp
rocks biting into
their already worn moccasins.
Uphill in the pouring rain.
With a load that weighs
like an elephant's *****
on their backs.
Unable to see for
The tears.
Maybe they had a bad day.
Maybe they have undiagnosed
behavioral health problems.
Maybe they are in physical pain.
Maybe they're immature.
Maybe terribly insecure.
Maybe they meant
NOTHING
by that look they gave you
or that remark they made.
Maybe they did.
WHO CARES?!!
Our purpose on
this planet is to
LOVE
Even when we are
unloved.
The test of true character
isn't loving those who love you.
It's loving those who
HATE YOUR GUTS
Then when you stand
before God
you can be assured
you did the best
you could do
down
here.
He loves those people
as much as He loves
YOU
Love them the same.
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 12:20 AM UTC
Welcome back from the break.
Last time I checked, I was a social outcast,
now I'm a godless heathen by margins
too expansive to measure.
You expect me to do what?
Break down, scrape my face with a muzzle?
No, I think for my sake,
I will embrace disdain,
disgrace, displacement, as if my blood is
dependent on it, just less than water.
Welcome back to
the decadent disaster,
robotic masterpiece of emulation,
emulating emotion it once contained.
It was exposed to Alexithymia,
undiagnosed for too long,
and can't grasp that anyone might return
feelings of love, lust, or interest,
with any sincerity.
Please, touch my face.
Draw me out, as if your hands were the pens
bringing life to still frames.
Please, touch my skin.
Make promises that my rusted metal
must hold more than debris.
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 1:06 AM UTC