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Knit Personality Jul 2018
Root of all thirsting,
    My greatest desire,
A single drop bursting
    Can put out a fire.
A single drop wholly
    Divorced from the brine,
A single drop holy,
    The liquid divine.

        Without it I wither:
            Unwet I'm unwell.
        I'll follow it thither,
            To heaven or hell.

Raindrop or dewdrop
    I want on my tongue.
For the old drop and new drop
    These verses are sung.
The new drop and old drop
    Of water I crave,
The hot drop and cold drop,
    From cradle to grave.

        Without it I wither:
            Unwet I'm unwell.
        I'll follow it thither,
            To heaven or hell.

Drown me in oceans,
    In crystalline seas,
In H2O potions
    Of perfect degrees.
Drown me in teardrops
    Divorced from the brine,
In flawlessly clear drops
    Of the liquid divine.

        Without it I wither:
            Unwet I'm unwell.
        I'll follow it thither,
            To heaven or hell.
Bo Burnham Nov 2015
"Well...,"
              she said, unwell.
"Well... surely...,"
              she continued, unwell, unsure.
"Listen," he said.
              But nothing.
              Just some rain tapping a window out of boredom.
judy smith Sep 2016
A fashion designer has defended models who were labelled as "gaunt and unwell" on Facebook.

Andrea Moore's I AM range is sold at Farmers, and an image from its current campaign was posted on that company's Facebook page on Friday.

The picture features Chiara and Norina Gasteiger, who are twins represented by Clyne Model Management. Farmers customers did not react well to the now-deleted post.

"They so look gaunt and unwell. I'm really disappointed," Newshub says Anna Webster commented.

"You cannot look at these girls with their bones sticking out and believe that they are a good role model for a family store," Jo Austwick wrote.

"I have enough trouble with body image arguments with my daughters without these images being depicted. They do not look healthy."

Moore said the imagery had never been intended to cause offence, and that she felt for the Gasteiger twins, who have worked with the brand for three years.

"The twins are actually healthy, fun models who are busy university students... We love working with them because of their sense of self-worth and uniqueness as twins," she said.

"We have been in touch with the models and they were most upset by the whole thing. Fortunately, they have received a lot of support from their peers.

"The campaign was about preppy grunge, print with an edge. [It was not] about promoting unhealthy body types [or] anything else," Moore added.

Farmers posted the following statement on Facebook after deleting the I AM image:

"Dear valued Farmers customers! We appreciate you taking the time to send us your comments and concerns on a recent post for I AM. Please know it is not taken lightly and we in no way mean to promote an image for women in NZ to follow that could be regarded as unhealthy.

"We understand that no two bodies are the same and we always seek to show a range of body types throughout all our advertising. These images were supplied by the brand Andrea Moore as part of a wider campaign and were published by us. We will endeavour going forward to work closely with all our partners to ensure an appropriate image is portrayed.

"Thank you once again for your valued feedback."

Clyne Model Management have been approached for comment.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/one-shoulder-formal-dresses
Val Graz Jul 2018
Mommy I'm sorry I manipulate you for,
The alcohol I feel I love more,
And Daddy I'm sorry I pretend I'm naive,
About all of my bad deeds,
I tried so hard to stay dry,
But the rain it pours inside,
I'm drowning in my own self,
I'm suffocating with my mental health,
And I try, I try so hard,
To be who you care for,
The girl who laughs just cause she can,
Who asks for hugs before bed,
But I'm not her anymore,
And I'll never be moving forward,
But really I'm just someone,
Who feels way too much at once,
I cry at night when I'm all alone,
Dancing with my demons on my own,

Please don't hate me, I couldn't survive,
I do that enough for myself, and I can no longer hide,
That I don't have a problem with substances,
That I can recognize when I've had enough of them,

I'm so tired of pretending it's under control,
This feeling of alcohol that sings in my soul,
The cough syrup that makes my shaky thoughts,
Become shaky feet, legs, and hands,
I'd rather feel physically ill,
Than continue to be mentally unwell,
So I will continue to veer off the tracks,
And spin out of control, it's just a fact,
I have no sense of when to stop,
Please don't make me stop,
It's so hard to be in my own head,
Every day it's like a death,
I die a bit, a piece of me fades away,
And I'm sorry to inform you, to say,
I'm not okay, I'm just not alright,
With myself I will continue to fight,

Please don't hate me, I couldn't survive,
I do that enough for myself, and I can no longer hide,
That I don't have a problem with substances,
That I can recognize when I've had enough of them.
Cassis Myrtille Aug 2013
Oh dear villanelle
You seem to be the death of me
Trying to write you, all seems unwell

Stubborn mademoiselle
You are, only wanting a very specific rhyme scheme
Oh dear villanelle

Why can’t you be kinder, my voice yells
Word play seems a challenge
Trying to write you, all seems unwell

All lines to end with an –elle?
Why not a –eek, or a – yike or an -ouch
Oh dear villanelle

What a villain –elle
You seem to be
Trying to write you, all seems unwell

I do wish that villanelles
Will never be confined to one specific form
Oh dear villanelle
Trying to write you, all seems unwell
Jack Jenkins Mar 2017
I am very unwell
My body wretches
Heart palpitates &
I am very unwell
A sickly soul within
Darkness got a hold
Won't let me go &
I am very unwell
My skin creeps
My bones creak
My voice croaks &
I am very unwell
Feels like I'm dying everyday anymore.
Eryri Sep 2018
Your shrill, yet oddly pleasant sound, echoes loudly down the long corridor.
I try to ignore you as the jaunty sound clashes with my melancholy mood,
Yet I find the notes and melodies cling to my mind like tissue stuck to a shoe,
Hanging on for it's own amusement,
Ignorant of my desire not to be teased nor humoured at this anxious time.

I feel I shouldn't like your racket,
My naïve ears and young years sense, not only an inappropriate comedy in your sound,
But also a daunting undertone,
Adding to my sense of having been plunged into deep icy waters.

Perhaps your music soothes those who are leaving,
Your high happy notes providing optimism and assurance of recovery,
Or of a restful sleep enveloping dear ones.
For me, however, at the point of no-return in my pilgrimage,
I hear only the low notes,
Out of time with my quickened pulse,
And lending a foreboding soundtrack to my slow deliberate steps.

But you play for no pay,
Busking in this hospital,
Doing good both night and day.
Yes, you are well known in this place,
Admired for the hours you commit to this space where lives can hang in the balance,
And where your instrument by day is a sharp sleek scalpel,
Invasive in its desire to alleviate suffering,
Your steady, practiced hand rehearsed and well versed in the methodically planned procedure of a surgical concerto.

But out of hours your instrument of choice lends you a voice,
Allowing flourishes and improvisations.
But were you aware that for visitors like me who visited repeatedly,
The clarinet would take on a significance beyond other instruments,
Taking me instantly back to bittersweet memories of visiting my family,
As, in turn, they aged and became unwell and recovered and became unwell again.

Now I am older and a little wiser,
I reflect and ruminate on this period;
My memories of family are more than just hospital visits,
And I wonder if I could ask one thing of you?
Why no Rhapsody in Blue?!
Adam Kobosky Jan 2015
Give me a second to gather all my thoughts, please and thank you

The thought of life is scary is not?
All my fears and demons laugh mockingly tonight.
Does that ever happen to you?
I have this crazy thought of
when we die.
So throw me a penny or nickel,
maybe even a quarter if you are kind.
All my unwell wishes deserve to be tossed away.
I cannot bare to hold them in much longer
and we are all meant to be creatures of family.
This world scares me.
I should not be able to change the view of you in a poem
You are you, love yourself.
I love me, but I am afraid you won't love me back.
tosses a coin *

What did you wish for?
I am scared. Don't lose hope everyone. Do not.
Devin Weaver Feb 2013
I have not been well lately
But I have a secret to tell you
It’s a success story: my most secret success
You see, I’m very skilled in crafting holes
And I’ve punched a massive hole
Right through the middle of my life

Please, don’t mistake this accomplishment for the result of talent
This is a skill and it takes practice to master
I went to college and learned to turn theories and ideals from basin to sieve
I learned to critique everything hopeful
And punched a hole right through the heart of hope
I honed my ability to close out creativity
I built a track down which to guide concrete linear thoughts
And I learned to use said thoughts as a battering ram with which to
Knock a hole in the barricaded door to dissatisfaction

And, though this skill is often practical
As you know, one cannot walk around wearing an open hole
So, a corresponding skill has successfully emerged
In parallel with nurturing voids
I have learned to conceal each and every hole
Sometimes with a thick canvass and
Sometimes with a paper-thin veneer
I may have learned to wrap a package
And to tie a bow
With the express purpose of packaging
The broken gift of life
Full of ugly holes

And, now, all that is left to complete the perfect ending to this success story
Is to grow old in a neatly kept apartment
Filled with the unseen haunts of relationships neatly hole-punched and
Filed in a hidden mental cabinet
Next to a night stand where I keep my phone and glasses
And across from the bed
There will be a glass trophy case
Full of trophies denoting various acceptable successes
But, just between you and I
The largest trophy denoting the largest success
Will be a lifetime achievement award
Bestowed for hollowing out what could have been
A beautiful life.
written from a psychiatric ward
E Lynch Nov 2014
BPD
I am quick to cry and to anger
and people think I'm strange.
They don't see how hard I try to control it,
I know I'm seen as deranged.

Emotions can be overbearing
and it's difficult to stay quiet
when someone upsets me
It's simply not easy to hide it.

I guessed for a long time that the issue was with me.
But I thought I could watch maybe learn their technique.
For keeping a cool head when things get heated.
Instead of losing it over nothing and feeling totally defeated.

I was wrong it turned out.
I don't have breaks I have border as in
borderline personality disorder.

I got a diagnosis
and was incredibly afraid
that people would treat me like someone
who'd contracted the plague.
While I wasn't right,
I wasn't totally wrong,
mental illness is unfortunately
still mostly ignored.

If I was unwell with a headache,
people would ask
'Are you okay?'
'Here I've got Panadol Actifast.'
But when the ills
In the mind and I say
'I'm feeling down'
9 times out of 10 people get freaked out.

So it's tough when you're shamed
For having a disorder
A lot of normal people suffer
So could your son or daughter.
So next time you hear someone say
'I'm feeling down.'
Do me one favour
and please,
just don't freak out.

It's hard enough already dealing
with this day to day
without having friends
turn their backs and walk away.
Edgar Jun 2014
He's her sickness, with him she's unwell
She's his drug, without her life's hell
He's her nightmare, with him she's frightened
She's his sweetest dreams, without her he's burdened
He's her despair, with him she's grieved
She's his hope, with her he's fulfilled
He's her failure
She's his success
Mr Quiet Aug 2018
Suffocating from the hatred you keep giving yourself,
I'm so worried sick about you, don't want you to feel unwell.
Just here trying to make you happy as much as I can,
Yet you always end up depressed,
But **** that,
I'll always love you even after the end.
I'll make sure that you're really fine,
And if not I'll give you a billion reasons why,
Why I'm ******* glad you exist and why I don't want you to die.

Ask me why I care so much about you?
Well you've given me a reason to smile,
You were there for me during my loneliest nights,
And you gave a whole new meaning in my life.
How am I not suppose to love you and hold you tight?
'Cause you were there for me, so I'll always be here for a laugh or a shoulder to cry.

Maybe I care too much,
I don't know,
I don't care.
I'd rather have thoughts of you more than anybody else,
I'm afraid of losing you,
I'm scared.
I fell to fill in your empty heart,
And I knew the risks and consequences I dared.
I care.
When You Used To Call Me Mine
Part 13/14
Big Virge Jan 2018
WOMEN ... Raise Children ... !!!
******* Have ... " Kids " ... !!!    
      
WOMEN Are Forgiving ... !!!    
******* Have ... STINGS ... !!!    
      
******* Will Say ...    
      
"Men aren't nice to them !' ...    
      
But Here's The THING ...    
I'm ... " Wondering .... " ........ ???    
      
Do Their Remarks ...      
REFLECT ... Who THEY ARE ... ?!?    
      
When They Look At Themselves In Their ... " Looking Glass " ...      
And Aren't Propping Up Bars SHOWING OFF Their *** ... !?!?!    
      
See ...    
******* Will Say I'm Being SEXIST ... !!!!!!!!    
  
While WOMEN Will ... THINK ...    
And Then ... Make Their Case ... !!!    
      
See That's The Way I Like to ... " PLAY " ...    
Use Wordplay To Keep ******* .......................... AWAY ....... !!!    
Who Choose To ABUSE Rules of ... " The Game " ... !!!    
      
LIKE DON'T EXPOSE A Man In Zones ...    
Where Friends Are Close ...    
Because He Chose To Tell You ... " NO " ... !!!    
      
OR RUN YOUR MOUTH About His Moves ...    
If You STILL CHOOSE To GO DOWN ... " SOUTH " ...    
And Then CONSUME What He SHARES AROUND ... !!!?!!!    
      
See THAT's THE STUFF I'm Talking About ... !!!    
WOMEN Show LOVE While ******* Show CLOWNS ...    
How To DO THEIR ACT And THAT's Just FACT.    
      
That's Just MY VIEW of The Things They Do ...    
Because They PROVE Through The Moves They Pull ...    
      
That ******* Pull TRICKS ... !!!    
While WOMEN Get KICKS From RELATIONSHIPS ... !!!!!!    
      
Where LOVE's ... THE KEY ...    
NOT S P R E A D I N G ... L I P S ... !!!!!    
  
Just To Get A FIX ... !!!    
Or For LUXURIES And CASH MONEY ... !!!!!!    
      
******* ARE GREEDY And Are Willing To ... "Deceive" ...    
For Shopping Sprees That ... FILL Their Dreams ... !!!    
      
WOMEN Want To FEEL That Love IS ... REAL ... !!!!!    
While A ***** Will INSIST .... "Love DOESN'T EXIST !" ...    
      
Well That's Where THEY And I AGREE ... !!!!!!!    
My Mother Displayed TRUE LOVE To Me ... !!!!!!!    
      
NO WOMAN or ***** Will EVER GIVE ...    
THAT Kind of Love Until They're MUMS ... !!!!    
Then Their Love RUNS To Daughters and Sons ............................    
      
Because THAT LOVE Is For ... THEIR BLOOD ... !!!!!    
      
NOT Husbands or For Their Boyfriends ...      
Unless Your Blood's THE SAME As Theirs ... !!?!!    
      
TAKE Those Words IN And Let Them ... SINK ...........    
Don't They Make SENSE When You Start To THINK ... ?!?    
      
Or BETTER Still ... ASSESS ... !!!    
And REJECT Them Less ...  
Than ******* Have Friends ... !!!!!!!    
      
HELL YES I'm BACK TO Them AGAIN ... !!!!!!!!!!    
Cos' ******* Nowadays Are ALL OVER The Place ... !!!    
      
And ARE ... FAR TOO MANY ..... !!!    
While WOMEN Have Reduced To A Minute Few ... !!!    
      
Leaving The Scales ...  
Somewhat ... UnsTeadY ... !!!    
      
THIS PIECE Has Given You ... Some Clues ...    
As To Why We Have MORE ONES Than Twos' ...      
      
WOMEN On Their Own Are ALONE At Home ....    
While ******* Now Roam Like Mobile Phones ...... !!!!    
      
Texting THIS ... !!!    
And ... Texting THAT ... !!!    
      
USING The Phone ...    
To SET Their ... " TRAP " ... !!!    
      
NO Dialling Tone Or Telephone RING ... !!!    
      
Just Waiting Time .....    
For Their Reply .................................................................­­....    
      
... NO MORE Talking ... ???    
      
It's Their NEW TOOL ... !!!    
To ... Play It Cool ....................  
And ACT THE FOOL ... !!!!!!    
      
"I'll text him when he least expects,      
if what he sends doesn't cause offence,    
i'll give him ***, that he won't forget !"    
  
But If Your Reply DOESN'T Fall In Line ...    
TRUST ME Guys ... THIS IS How It Goes ...    
  
Her Texts Then Take A ... DIFFERENT Tone .... !!!    
She Makes You ................................................. WAIT .......    
And Your Phone Goes ............................................... COLD.    
Now You Either Go Into ... RECOVERY MODE ... !!!!!!    
Or Try To RING ........ She AIN'T Answering ...... !!!!!!    
      
Then You See Her Lips .....    
SLIPPING THROUGH Your G R I P ....... !!!    
      
UNLIKE ..... YOUR PHONE ...... !!!    
      
******* Like To Play These Types of TRICKS ... !!!    
But Then COMPLAIN When They're ON THEIR OWN ... !?!?!    
      
Fellas TRUST IN This ...    
******* HATE Themselves ... ?!!!?    
They're Quite .... UNWELL .... !!!!!!    
      
And Most NEED SHRINKS ...      
While WOMEN Are SANE ...      
      
Well SANER Than .... Them ... !!!    
******* Who Have Got PROBLEMS ... !!!!!!!!!    
      
******* ARE INSANE ... !?!  
    
WOMEN ... USE Their BRAIN ... !!!    
      
******* Dish Out PAIN ... !!!!!!    
WOMEN Aren't So VAIN ... !!!    
      
Therefore WOMEN Tend To Be ...    
MORE .... " Plain Jane " ....    
Than ..... SNIFF ******* ..... !!!    
      
DON'T Let Their SHAPE ....    
Make You TAKE The Bait ......................................    
      
Make THEM ...............................................­....... WAIT ....    
BUT DON'T PLAY Games Tell Them STRAIGHT ... !!!    
  
EXPOSE Their Traits ...      
And When You *** THEM Make It GREAT ... !!!!!    
      
So That They HATE To SEE Your Face ... !!!    
Because They're Sent Back To THAT PLACE INSIDE Their Brain....      
      
YOU KNOW YOUR BED For *** AGAIN ..... !!!!!    
      
SEE WOMEN And ******* Are NOT The Same ... !!!!!    
Their DIFFERENCES ... DISPLAY Their Ways ....    
      
So WATCH Them BOTH And WATCH Them CLOSE ... !!!!!    
      
TAKE Mental Notes So That You Know ...    
When To Be SMOOTH And Make Your Move ...    
DON'T BE Her FOOL or Her Footstool ... !!!!!    
      
Be SHREWD And PROVE ...    
You've Been WELL SCHOOLED ... !!!!!    
      
And AVOID The Traps And GAMES They Plan ...    
SET Your Agenda And STICK TO IT Fellas ... !!!!!!    
      
REMEMBER A ***** .....    
Loves DRUGS NOT Hugs .....      
      
While WOMEN WANT HUGS ...    
And Their DRUG Is LOVE ..... !!!!!!!!!    
      
That's Just MY VIEW It May NOT Be ... True ... ??????    
      
But Whether It Is I've Said Some Things ...    
That'll Bring Some ... TWITCHES ... !!!!!    
      
To .............    
      
........... " Women and ******* " ...............
Following on from my last post, as the treatment of the ladies is such PROMINENT News Currently ......
cheryl love Jan 2015
The snowman was feeling very low
His thought processes were rather slow.
He took a cough
His head blew off
and landed upside down in the snow!
Ottar Dec 2013
I rasp when I talk
until
paroxysms shake me to be quiet,
like some impatient ill-tempered,
thing inside my chest where my lungs
were last seen breathing,
now they shake like cans of rusty nails,
and a sneeze,
                    and a sneeze,
                                       and a sneeze,
till I and Fifi, have to go outside before
one of us wets,
how are you doing you ask and show caring,
not wanting me to be sharing whatever it is I have,
I answer with a muffled sound,
like my nose was dropped and I sat down on it,
"Unwell, hankyou, por assking"


©DWE122013
jat Jan 2014
im unwell and everything
is not what it all used to be
its different this time
im weaker and my thoughts
are going insanely wild
louder than the ones
on my ****** lips
everyday i longed for
someone to understand
just by the way my heavy
bloodshot lidded eyes are
exhausted and disconsolate
Elijah Corbeau Jan 2015
You know - I think the world unwell,
And it’s a sickness of the core-
Is it Heaven or Hell, have we climbed or fell,
And does anyone know whats in store?

Regarding the intermingling of rich and poor
Or those of any variant of such-
Is the deafening roar of unjust rapport,
A signal of humanity out of touch?

Or is it a simple fact that we’re stuck-
An unable collective at heart,
Out of luck and currency struck,
And unable to perceive our parts?

For there is a purpose in leaving our marks,
And in the end, all we can do is pray
That our sins go dark, the light will start
And tomorrow is another day.

You know – I think the world quite swell,
Cruel beauty is its stock and store.
Release your shell, your soul wont sell,
And I swear you are worth so much more.
Hmmm...
island poet Apr 29
<|>

for some time,
in these troubled moments,
midst the uprooted formless firmament
where rawest poems come from,
and the saddest gentled, go to die,
colloquially a place, a space,
we call,
time

in these, them days of lockdown quarantine,
time has lost its preeminence,
the swagger of precision-swiss-definition
of the imposing measuring stick of
routine
is lost to that very
formless firmament

we look at each aghast,
with wild puzzlement faces,
inquiring of each other,

what day of the week is it?

the eavesdropping, spying voice of this device
answers,
“see the upper left corner”

which is kind of a miracle
but not nearly as amazing that

a few hours later,
or some time span of an approximate relevancy,
(we assume,)
we ask each other, once more,
in a reverie of hopelessness,
with total no-pretense of the
when,
no, worse,
the frightening pointy needlessness of
why
it matters

dearest darling,
pray, pray,
what day of the week is it?

writ on the Isle of Manhattan
Nina Feb 2015
It's not surprising that it was so easy for you to leave someone as ****** up as I am
Because my mind is a sea of monsters too dark and too primeval to ever be tamed
And they hide their faces in the day
But in the night my mind plays ***** dark tricks and I scream and thrash and I can understand how hard that would be on someone like you
Someone who defeated the darkness that used to terrorize them, and now lives as the king of their mind.
You were ****** up too once.
You woke up cold and sweaty with a screaming heart because your daddy left and you couldn't figure out why and you took six painkillers before Spanish one day and walked in high as **** and got expelled.
But nobody would guess that from your cookie cutter ties and polished shoes and phenomenal ******* eye contact when you shake a man's hand,
Nobody could ever imagine that when you got too drunk you'd grab my *** and throw me on the kitchen counter and bite my neck and your hands would explore places they shouldn't.
Because you hid yourself from the crowds and the daylight and the church congregation,
And when you stand behind me in line for communion I can hear your breathing and the hairs on my back stand up, but remember, my dear, when your nails would map lines down my back?
Oh **** am I ****** up.
And I warned you from the start that I was, that messing with me would only ***** up my broken mind again and again, my mind that's held together with yards of duck tape and the piece of gum we shared on our third date so your parents couldn't smell the whiskey on our breath.
I told you I was a mess, and you said you understood, but the minute my mind started to unravel in your lap you ran away as fast as you could.
I get it.
Alyssa Yu Feb 2014
"It is true," she said.
"It is like drowning
Except you can see everyone else breathing."

Then it must also be true that everyone else can see you suffocating
Because it is like I am watching her dissolve before me
Trapped in her own deep well of misery

See, she tries to tread the waters
Tries to hold herself upright and proud
But the ones she does it for
Are the weights on her ankle dragging her down

So when she hold her breath under freeway tunnels
And dreams from night till day
I still can't tell if she's just waiting to resurface
Or wishing her life away

My dear, eyes that shine as bright as yours
Should never have to see the dark side of the moon
Hold onto your tears, broken angel
I swear it'll be over soon

I'll rescue you from this ****** abyss
That's left you eager for hell
I promise you're not crazy
You're just a little unwell.
Liam May 2013
personal journal musings from last week...*

Stopped in at my neighborhood pub last night
  a couple of pints, some word exchange
Colorful place on a perfect Spring evening
  people on tap, constantly spilling in and out

The place is bustling and packed
  loud and dynamic
Sound flowing on open air
  drifting in from sidewalk patio and out to beer garden

Luckily nab a lonely stool near the entrance
  girl sitting kitty-corner around curving end of bar
Casually we cover topics from her mac 'n cheese
  to wind chill generated by ceiling fans

Conversation is suddenly confiding
  prior night's end-all fight with her live-in boyfriend
Obvious need to talk to someone neutral
  bartenders are busy, so it's me and we do

She's come seeking emotional sanctuary
  awaiting his departure to some event
Unhappy with her role in the argument
  unhappy with the person she has become with him

They'd intended to go ring shopping
  as recently as last week
She now looks forward only to the comfort of
  quiet, pajamas, ice cream, dreamless sleep

Upon leaving, she twice asks that I promise
  to be here if she finds no solitude and must return
This is no request...more of an appeal
  alone in privacy is one thing...alone in festivity another

I promise twice - I'll be here
  she doesn't return
I sincerely hope that she's well on her way to
  an ice cream induced pj slumber

              Less than an hour later...same bar stool

Pleasingly boisterous bachelorette party arrives
  staking claim to a nearby parcel of floor
Numerous "excuse me" squeeze-throughs  for drink orders
  rendering me a semi-familiar bar obstacle

One reveless wedges in, questions me
  what color underpants do I have on...don't recall
Insists that we check...dark bluish-grey
  too bad...she was hoping for purple to match her own

Impishly waiting long enough for my mind to stew
  she finally reveals the query as part of a formal interactive checklist
I apologize for not being more daring in spectrum
  we laugh, nevertheless...strike one

Eventually exchanging pleasantries with another
  a more subtle approach, but the inquisition repeats
Here we go again...Batter up!...Red?...very sorry...strike two
  I'm feeling of no value to this effort

Red offers me a redeeming pitch from the list
  someone must serenade the bride-to-be
I accept and get to meet the veiled celebrity
  she wears an engaging and jubilant aura

Gauging the atmosphere, I decide against romantic
  opting for a song that playfully questions the sanity of her choice
From my heart, I sing the chorus to Matchbox Twenty's "Unwell"
  It goes over very well and I avoid strike three

She and I hit it off, we discuss her wedding plans
  discover our roots are in the same part of the city
I'm rewarded for my musical contribution
  allowed to buy her a shot of Patrón...the checklist dwindles

Now partaking in the excitement of their celebration  
  an honorary addition to the large but exclusive group
My joyous new acquaintance has us take a picture together
  a snapshot of this special occasion to which I've somehow been privileged

A train of waves, goodbyes, thanks, and good lucks
  trails the party as I watch it crawl to the next establishment
In the hushed cacophony, I return to my thoughts
  a fantastic diversity of emotional experience within two short hours

My elbows on the bar in sober contemplation
  counting crows ...one...two...juxtaposed
A contrast of simultaneous realities
  somberly lamenting vs vibrantly anticipating

Reflecting on the beauty in such contrasts
  that serve to define the images of our lives
I finally come to the inevitable conclusion
  it's time for another pint...of ice cream
Ottar Apr 2013
Diamonds on the wall of my blue room,
Dark chocolate by my bed, unable to enjoy,
Colourless whine poured out, it is just a ploy,
Sunshine through the blind of my tomb.

Oh pity where is thou sting, that barbed song you sing,
Oh death where is thy mercy that you grant,
Life won't be able to nag at me and rant,
What the  "Na Na Na na Na na, hey hey goodbye", brings.

My ears hear sour notes, my tongue taste flat ones,
How did I get here so fast, when I started last,
Finished first, did I cheat the torture of my past,
Racing my engine, beating itself, while I dream reruns.

Well,
well,
unwell,
once again, drifting off leave me be, let me nap till after three,
grant my heart a rest for Monday comes and another test.

DWE 2013-04-21
Madness Viarti Mar 2015
Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
Unwanted, and unloved,

With matted fur,
Wide eyes of stone,
Once, you were beloved,

Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
Your nose is runny and red,

Your paws are too small,
Your tail is patchy and wet,
You're too thin, but perhaps with a bit of bread..

Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
You tried to follow me home,

My home is too small,
Money is tight and hard earned,
My heart is unwell, but I cannot simply let you roam..

Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
You didn't care,

I was the curious thing,
The one to stop,
And scratch behind your ears, your life has never been fair..

Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
Your walk is much too slow,

Fumbling one way or the other,
Tripping over your paws,
Getting distracted by the spiders, but soon, you'll grow..

Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
I stopped,

And carried you home.
Zero Nine May 2017
Unwell. Or am I?
Who's to say the past is done,
When I clean puncture wounds,
Dawn to dusk, of detritus?

Unwell. Or am I?
Who's confused and who's knowing?

Unwell. Or am I?

Merging verses, moving tiles.
Twisted memories play pretty.
Every tangent plays at once.

Who moves when I move?
Convergence hurts us all.
...
Bohemian Feb 2019
Weather isn't too good today
Seems like heaven's in tears
Not because I'm broken
Or it broke along watching me
Instead
So
Once again another being would metaphorize it with her grief
Smiles Apr 2014
Pills, pills for the mentally ill
The more you take, the worse you'll feel
So down the hatch
Yep down your throat
Very soon you'll be wearing this coat
A hug me jacket tarnished in white
With buckles and straps wound so tight
But for now some side effects I wrote
Down here on this pretty little note
Increased thoughts of suicide
And harsh voices to which you can't hide
Nausea, drooling, and anxiety too
And whoever seems to be "after you"
We'll put you to sleep
You won't make another peep
Strap you to a cozy bed where you'll slumber
Pump you till you're as cool as a cucumber
To which we'll add you to our lovely garden
No ifs, buts, or beg your pardons
What's the matter?
You seem unwell
You're as mad as a hatter
This I can tell
So don't start a spell
Don't start a clatter
We'll pick up those pieces to which your mind has shattered
Just take this pill
In fact why not stay
You're better off here anyway!
Haha gotta love em!
Twenty years locked in this cell.
well
unwell
but what the hell I could have done another twenty more behind the safety of that door and that being said,
I could have done it standing on my head.
Dead is just a state of body and not of mind, a cell that's lined by circumstance is not a cell in which one wants to dance,
but one can think as one sinks into solitude and your eyes stay shut,glued against the lid that's put upon the day.
Twenty years,enough to pay,I paid and I get out today,break free so I can break away,
well
unwell
what the hell
we're all inside
locked in the cell.
I left you believing I had things to do
I told you I was unwell
I told you my family and I were going away for the weekend
All the while I was with him
I told you I wasn't happy in our relationship
I told you all I ask for is everything he gives me
I told you I wanted you to be someone you just aren't
I wanted you to be him
I told you I would stay because you tried a little
I believed you when you said you wanted to help
I believed you when you said you could be what I deserve
All I ask for is a little
A little
Time
Hand holding
Soft caresses
Cuddles
And compliments
We've grown apart, our relationship stunted
It's not my fault
It's not yours
But it is my fault I cheated
Because what I truly wanted
Was him
Rj Apr 2015
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But wait a while and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
By matchbox twenty. They actually wrote this about humanity
Moriah Jean Dec 2010
The world looked brand new today,
And I'd blame you if you would believe it.
The scales on my eyes wont change,
But you still make the sun shine a little more clear.
You know, it's too late for me.
We're drowning in bottles and faces and nothing.
But I caught you smiling,
And cursed every daydream and notion and fear.

Now that I'm involved, I'll be whatever you need,
Or sail with you to the end of the sea.
If you jump, I will follow you down.
The world is sick, and most days you feel unwell,
But I'll go with you through all hell.
If you jump, I will follow you down,
I will follow you down.

There's this place that I go at night,
And I'd take you if you would believe it.
Where I watched our souls collide,
In a shower of sparks and chaotic things.
One day, I know you'll see,
We're the disease that keeps us collapsing.
But sometimes our eyes will meet,
And when they light up I'll still want to sing.

Now that I'm involved, I'll be whatever you need,
Or sail with you to the end of the sea.
If you jump, I will follow you down.
The world is sick, and most days you feel unwell,
But I'll go with you through all hell.
If you jump, I will follow you down,
I will follow you down.

I will follow you down...
(if you jump, I jump, remember?)
I will follow you down...
(if you jump, I jump, remember?)
I will follow you down...
© Dec. 4th, 2010 Moriah Jean

Thanks to that line from Titanic, which greatly inspired this pong.
Along with Death Cab for Cutie, Iron and Wine and Coldplay, because that's been my mood lately.

For all of my friends. And especially Andrew Mikowski (yes, again). I love you all, but you, Andrew, you have changed my world completely. I just wish you could see that. I think I need you. And I never need anyone.
Kenji Aug 2015
In a locked up abandoned room, stands dead people,
all worn and torn, all helpless and scarcely unknown.
They weep trickles of tears from their eyes, soaking down to their cheeks,
innocent faces and scarred bodies,
invisible to the world and their minds dreadfully drilled, with thoughts of insanity, as they rot inhumanely.

Open wounds and jars of acid, the key lays in one of them, torturous and hardly discredited
It's deadly, and extremely rapid.

Trapped and held back, suppressed and feelings of soul lack,
where the crows die at 3:00am, it's satanic, dark, dull and dim.

Hands burn and screams cry, the jar is black, so they hadn't know in which the key lie.

The secrets within, dark, deadly and too hard to ****** swim.

Weak and demolished, some people collapse in pain and satanic craze, the haze, the daze, thoust peculiar trickles of red rain drops from the ceiling above, rose wine red, depth is dark and foul like jin

It's ****** up...

Our ghosts keep all kinds of secrets, with their hands behind their back and face hidden and covered in black, suppression creates a place of torturous days and weeping eyes of display...
Isolation makes it worse, it creates a lonesome curse...

Treat your ghost well, then the dark won't take over, and make it dreaded and unwell...
Tell...
*All your secrets within
Dánï Jun 2014
Although I missed you, I didn't miss the yells
And all the times you made me feel unwell;
Whether it was physical or emotional,
Your love was harsh and you made it seem personal.

Your huge hands to hold me, you used to hurt me.
Your warm smile you used to spit fire.
Those hazel eyes were made to captivate me,
And they did just that, in a prison cell was where I resided, forcefully.
Your loud, beautiful laugh was used mockingly,
And the way your words flowed showed me who I was, accidentally.
Your big, warm heart was charred- it beat quietly,
and you passed on the black smoke, unintentionally.
It filled up my mind, my lungs,
And with every breath I took I became even more numb.


Maybe this is why I look for you in every man,
It's all I've ever known.
And although it wasn't the most ideal plan,
Black was the only color I was ever shown.
-d.***
Grace Jordan Jun 2013
The malignant light blinds me into a drunken haze, intoxicating my toes until my body begins to dance, thoughtlessly

  Eyes closed, arms open, godly, peaceful, strong

Why doesn't everyone raise their arms to the grateful sky and soak in the golden bath of golden sun, to feel for once in their lives golden

Why do I seem alone in my gentle ****** curve while they seem bland and gray, straight lined lips across their face, a line of soldiers, unforgiving and unbreakable.

Why do I only feel joy?

  Thoughts shoot through me like tommy gun bullets through the streets of old Chicago, covered in hot blood, hot money, and hot nights. Drugs in my veins, matches in my pockets, all eyes on me and my mafia heart raising a pistol to my brain and conquering its control.

  Baby I like it, the way I move through the floor, seeing the monsters that weren’t there before, descending into maniacal darkness unknown, smiling while I’m screaming, never alone

  Sunshine, you are mine, my arms coddle you close, the sunshine endlessly streaming through my fingertips, a buzzing crescendo of ecstasy. You are all mine. This perfect heart contained in the cavity of this body overbeats, skipping steps, tumbling forward, 800 miles per hour, too fast to be caught by the blue-sheilded men who wish to stop it. Stop this heart and stop the world, for it is its red hot core.

  Pompous, conceited, it paints itself across my soul, yet I cannot contain what my emotions do, a little  twisted, a little crazy, a little unwell.

  And then I crash again.
Big Virge May 2017
Exclusion or ... " Inclusion " ...  
Which Option Do You Choose ... ???
  
Do You Feel Like ... " Your Inclusion " ...
Is The Passage To Be ... " Cool " ... ?!?
  
Even If The Crew You Follow ...
Is FULL of ... STUPID FOOLS ... !!!!!
  
FOOLS Who Use ...
Their Snakeskin Shoes ...  
To Make Those CRUCIAL ...
  
... " Power Moves " ... !!!!!!!!!!
  
If That's You ... ???
Is That ... " YOU " ... ?!?
  
Are You ... REALLY ...
Being ...... " True " ...... !?!
  
Or ... Living Life ...
In A ... " Human Zoo " ...
  
By This I Mean ...
Your Self-Esteem ...  
Has CLEARLY LOST ...
It's ..... " Mr. Sheen " ...... !!!
  
You're In A Zone ...
Now FILLED WITH CLONES ...
Whose Facade ... Is TOUGH ...
When ..... NOT Alone .....
  
They Change Their Ring ...
WITHOUT ... Dialling Tones ... !!!

Because They Have ....
Such ... " Brittle Bones " ... !!!
  
They Claim To Have ...
A ... " HAPPY Home " ... !!!!!
  
But FEAR The Thought ...
of Life .... ALONE ....  
  
They Surround Themselves ...
With SUPERFICIAL Friends ...  
Throughout Their Week ...
And At .... " Weekends " ....  
  
So ..... ???  
Which Do YOU Prefer ... ?!?
  
Exclusion or ... Inclusion ... ???
  
A Life Without Confusion ...
A Life Without The Nonsense ...
of ... " Agenda-Lead Collusion " ... !!!
  
Do You Need Doors Open ... ?
  
Or ... Do You ... ? ...
Open Them ... YOURSELF ... !?!?!
  
Do You Want To Make A DIFFERENCE ...  
Or ... Get Yourself SOME WEALTH ... ?!?
  
I Try To Keep ...
My ... Mental Health ...  
By .................... AVOIDING THOSE ......
Who Have ..... " Foul Smells " ..... !!!!!!!!!
  
I Trust In ... " God " ...  
And TRUST ... MYSELF ...  
To Do What's RIGHT ... !!!
  
Or ...
BURN IN HELL ... !!!  
  
I BELIEVE In This ... !!!
  
YES ... Love Thyself ... !!!
  
Love Those Who ...
Do Love Themselves ... !!!
  
WITHOUT .... VANITY .... !!!
Or The .... " HARD SELL " .... !!!!!  
  
These People Make ...  
Our World UNWELL ... !!!!!
  
Look In Their Eyes ...  
  
They're TELLING LIES ... !!!!!
To Be .... " Accepted " ....  
By ..... FAKE GUYS ..... ?!?!?
  
Who Just Can't Take ...
..... My Diatribe ..... !!!!!!!
  
This View IS MINE ... !!!
It's NOT .... " Divine " ....  
  
Don't Feel Inclined ...  
To ..... FALL IN LINE ... !!!!!
  
Exclusion ISN'T ...
.... My Design .... !!!
  
It's Been ... " Designed " ...
By ..... " Simple Minds " ...  
Who NEED Inclusion ...
  
.... ALL THE TIME .... !!!!!
  
Why Do They NEED IT ... ?!?
  
They Can KEEP IT ... !!!!!!!!
  
I'm An ... EXCEPTION With Insight ......... !!!
EXCLUDE ME If ... You Feel That's Right ... !!!
  
At The End of The Day .....
We're ALL GONNA DIE ... !!!!!!
  
Those Who ... " Exclude " ...
Will Probably FRY .... !?!

Finding INCLUSION ....
Where ... LUCIFER LIES ... !!!!!
  
That's NO SURPRISE .... !!!!!
  
.... " Facades and Lies " ....  
Are Them DEFINED .... !!!!!!

But ... CAN'T DiSguIsE ...
Their Fraudulent Guise ... !!!!
  
It CAN'T Be Wise ...
To ... Always Hide ...
  
YOUR True Self .......
  
Why Be So Sly ... ?!?
  
That's A Question ...
I DON'T Face ... !!!  
  
Because I'm ... ME ...
WHEREVER I Be ... !!!!!
  
I DON'T NEED ..... !!!
These PHONEY CLIQUES ... !!!!!  
  
What About YOU ... ?!?
Are You ... TRUE ... ?!?!?
  
Or ... Do You NEED ... ?
These POMPOUS CREWS ... !?!
  
That's Up To ... YOU ...  
What Do You Choose ... ?
  
" Exclusion Or ... Inclusion "
On the basis of Trumps' dismissal of Comey this week, a good piece on, related subject matter....
Third Eye Candy Oct 2012
fed the birds.
fed the birds a
book about
my dead  
weight.
fed the
birds a heavy.
fed them from
my thin
hands. The words
that live.
The birds ate.
The birds ate words that
lived and always
lived
in
separate
houses. if...
and i mean if
and only if
they
could afford
it.
if these
clever pagans
ever had
a dime.
they found
it boring rich
folk to
death.

i fed the birds
my indigenous
nomads. they dined
in high style...
dined black and
fancy
on
shabby
addicts, as they
hopped
trains . i fed the birds
my
swarthy tribe.
and they supped.
i fed the birds
a monologue
with trains of
thought
the words i fed
them... the vagabonds...
hopped
trains.

of thought.

I fed
the birds.
i fed the birds just
outside.
i sat
and fed them
black light and Harmalade
fed them blackly
fed them with
piano keys;  the black
ones, the ones
that radiate
i fed

i watched them. watched
them fancy peck. and peck
and fancy
pluck.
i watched. they dined
on serene defeat
by technicality.
it was surreal
to watch a blackbird
pluck from black
keys - peck
a morsel of glum
from

the black rays, yes.

the black rays with
opposable thumbs
and a
lifeline. the only one i
know forbidding gypsies
with three eyes.
an open
palm.
a paranoid  
black radish
white dwarf star
with piano keys
for black rays
of

nimbus, yes

mine is the hand that bites the hand
that writes the book
it wants
to ban, that ain't
a fan

not at all. just an appendage. a pen dirge ? What ?

i  fed the flock lots

I fed
the black ones -
with dolls'
eyes...

tucked
under
wing.

i fed them, yes.

a book
about the size
of any welcome
malcontent.

i fed
them sorrows
and ellipses with
adjacent lawns.
wutherings in
stately manors, squatting
on either side
of memory
lane, like
a bourbon and
coke had
practically crawled
across shards
of hard
things to break,
with a drink
in your
hand

and crawled, well blended

down the hatch
of enormous, well appointed
gothic frogs, that -
were mostly refurbished toads
with odd columns.

i fed
the birds,
broke out the
Good
Chi
na

hang the tantrums !  

yes
One should expect
a rich metaphor to want to
watch you
eat it's every
word
or
by extension;
lick the toad with 15 rooms,
three stories, unfit for children
and a full staff
of Adjectives,
highly trained
to

short-sheet the Bedlam, and fluff the pillories.

one should sip the liqueur
off the floor, inside the huge
and tipsy
gorgon
and be thankful
for the dank
and

the solid gold flyswatters.

they're complementary. take one
as you leave out
thinking
" toads, eat flies.... so it follows...."
apropos of nothing, on the
' Good China ',

now in the belly of birds, well fed
an unwell.

a book about
my dead-weight's
dream
to eat fewer
flies and
more
steak.

to grow wings.

yes.

— The End —