Disorder

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Recovery something beautiful  and yet so chaotic, words sweal  forming memories  thoughts   Recovery seen as negative, reminder of what we are what we could be
I wasn’t always this lost, my days consumed by chaos An era where everything makes me nervous And every other day my mood drops, and rises It’s always a fight to find my way through this mind fog
I have always been the small girl. The short girl ,the skinny girl, the I can wrap my fingers around her wrist girl. The eat a cheeseburger girl.
Have you noticed? Have you noticed how I’m chewing gum again? How apples have become my favorite food again? That I can’t sit down because of the bruises again?
What if Cinderella was actually a slave whose prince led her through the Underground Railroad? What if Aurora had social anxiety? What if Snow White had Dissociative Identity Disorder?
The hair of my arms turned, I know this collision of arms is inevitable, Yet my mind spins like a ferris wheel gone rogue, A correction must be made to my limbs, Wrong, this is wrong; tears pry their way out
My mind is like a random password generator. They come. They go. Never the same. m8cvp8w7jzo There is a switch in my head. But not two options. Hundreds Too many inside.
Dreadful Dreadful In every cell Dreadful Daughter Lives in hell Dreadful Dreadful You cant tell Dreadful Daughter Fakes it well Dreadful Dreadful Hear her knell?
Can I (We) Forgive You   Alone in fear I’d be for days and days Wondering if you’d ever come And the times you would, I’d be in terror Afraid of the things that would soon come  
It is delicious and sweet, So simple to enjoy, When not having to worry about a thing. For me that's not the case. I love food, at least I did But the relationship is on and off.  
For the record, I am myself.  Even in the dark with no mirrors, no clues, I am myself. I am not the feeling
I'm going insane. Happy as can be in a moment, Only to come crashing down the next, Into the darkness of my head. From a pleasant thought, To one leaving me distraught, I sit alone in the dark.
He
     When you look at him, he can feel his veins burn up, he can feel them grow weak as his blood grows stale.
He walks like he has some place to be, hurried footsteps resounding through the empty hallways. He keeps his head down, watches his feet, as if that will save him from stumbling.
People say the relationship is toxic. That he'll kill me. (It surely well might be the case) But it's not your business I tell myself   People say the relationship ain't healthy.
I am not my disorder, I am not alone in my fight, I am a force to be reckonned with, I am one that stands tall in the light, I am not a kicked puppy, I am not a shattered looking glass,
I hate my speech!   I hate how sounds  are released, I hate how my S’s last longer than a Second I hate how my lip tightens                            . Half of the word is cuffed in throat
The mind races millions of thoughts as the moon rises-- questions unanswered-- curiosity.   Energy exists where energy is naught-- adrenaline rush. So many things to do
Often I find myself in thought Silent on the outside, screaming on the inside Internally I fought
how do you desceice to someone something they have never felt? the tortures existens that god hath delt me each day i promise myself that i will make it threw the day one step at a time.
"Come along!" Said the Man.Though to where,
Bipolar.
One, two, three- Organized alphabetically.  Four, five, six- this must have a fix.  Seven, eight, nine- but I hate to whine.  Ten, elven, twelve- mentally it delves.
Tick, tock, tick, tock. 
it was innocuous at first. (doesn't it always start off like that?) my lips were just a little too chapped and it looked bad, so i peeled off some of the old skin. no harm done, right?
You know that girl who's always smiling and laughing, That girl who isn't popular, but everyone likes her, That girl who can cheer anyone up within seconds, That girl who loves and cares for everyone?
You know that girl who's always smiling and laughing, That girl who isn't popular, but everyone likes her, That girl who can cheer anyone up within seconds, That girl who loves and cares for everyone?
Wake up late, Mornings I hate Don't like leaving my bed The smell of bacon Brings a cravin' Jam spread over bread Hash browns or home fries Always satisfies Kethchup on top
Reading! Writting! Things that make people cringe but makes smilegive me words over sports give me a book over TV
Note: A short story based of of the Warrior Cats book series written by Erin Hunter. 
I wake up and feel the fear, my stomach folds in a knot, another day is here, where my thoughts begin to clot. Panic disorder is a cruel master, even though its whispers are irrational,
Trying for the relationship I wanted, I copied my father’s moves and emotions. Genetics helped out, only a little. Father, What have I done to myself? Gripping, pulling, plucking, repeat--
"Laugh," they said. 
I'm not o
        suddenly i am julted awake by that feeling. it strikes through me like lightning and thunders in my head and leaves a pouring storm of rain falling continuously from my storm cloud eyes.
You were taken too soon my friend And I sit here and wonder  Why your life had to end Like the rolling of thunder    My one regret is not responding In the month of November
We all deal with monsters, Monsters in our heads, Monsters in our bodies. Depression, Scizophrenia, Rymitoid, CRPS. The monsters kill us, Inside and out, To the point of no return,
when it breaks it doesn't make a sound there is no indication of its condition it just gives in, falling prey to the repetitive oppression of day after day after day.  
She looks in the mirror who she sees is not who she is.
I turn my head to my conscious,
Who hears the voice of the mentally ill? Who feels for them when they cry from the pain they feel? It seems they are feared and everyone worries Is their problem contagious or more comfortable ignoring?
What the hell is wrong with these peopleTreating others way less than equalWe have to fix this nowCause this isn't a movieAnd there won't be a sequelAn ignorant mind is feeble 
Birds fly awayAs the sky turns black and greyMeteors rainBuildings engulfed in flamesPeople are crazed, enraged, and others are afraidExpected to listen to what the TV said
Who are you? You are not my mother today. We do not know what you will do, The children must leave So they are safe.   "Safe from what?", the little ones ask,
I write to release the anger and anguish of a childhood lost. I write to tell the story of becoming a mother and father to a baby brother at the age of thirteen.
I am Alpha and OmegaThe beginningThe end Eloquent, as her words share the breath of life and colorA penchant to liveTo survive Maybe to laughProbably love
  My way of life And your way of life Are two different ways of living. Where my dreams are reality And yours are solely nonfiction, Imagination forms a line That borders this idea  
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