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Wasn’t the first time.
The voices, they are silent yetSomehow my very hurting headConvinces me that I am dead.So where am I?“Then let us die,Don’t say goodbye:Their panicked cryAnd asking whyWill justify
The fingers that I type withand the eyes with which you readare both, just now, quite filled with life - of that, we are agreed?
Jump, fall, land, splat.Who ever said that? Not the twisted face he sees,though it drove him to his knees. Not the voices in the dark,though they surely made their mark.
“Don’t call me ‘precious.’ Don’t be fictitious with me. Don’t be the one to bite your thumb when I’m the one already done before everyone.
So many lines. So many, Different kinds of pain that write themselves Under different names: Necessity, shame, another I can’t explain. And still more, more still and, Is this some kind of game?
It started off as an escape An honest distraction, Just to reshape The always-constant never-ending never-ceasing never-stopping Reaction in my body tensing-up-ing heart-a-pounding hard-to-breathe-ing
Bottled up inside, like a fifth of grey goose emotions I tried to hide my mind's running loose afraid of what i might find if I keep digging deeper into my melon like a rind I thought she was a keeper
I’ve been contemplating for the past three days,Words to describe my precise emotions,And I become embarrassed by myself,For not even being able to, in such a s
Were you too misinformed to see clearly,Of how they were destroying your own soul?You opened your mind to them so simply,As if there was not a blood-l
I feel it again,The ferocious beating of calypso drums,Coursing through my fingers,Creating foul beings.These false shadows of which have burst forth from my skin,Have created a jazz band of sin.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5…. That’s how many panic/anxiety attacks I’ve had today But don’t worry I’m Mexican so they aren’t real ones My bipolar depression isn’t real
this life I live breaks my heart a little more each daythe maladies and tragedies consume my dreamsand wear away all my strengthsorrow is my constant companion asthe moments' crawl, seconds feel endless
I was born from drug addicted parents, but no one saw me. I father killed himself when I was at the age of two, but no one saw me. My mother was mentally ill and abusive, but no one saw me.
Sitting in class with my Victoria Secret perfume of Temptation and in my new letterman jacket. I’m on the honor roll, valen victorian of my class, and engaged, not in some ostensible straitjacket.
Devoured by my mind I stood a silent victim Of mindless medication Of helpless happiness Of the emesse emptiness. They told me,
Inside Your Hands-A Tragedy I crawled into the safety of The palm of your hand And though the stars of the galaxy inside Were annoyingly bright
It hurts to know- you're not enough Hearts shatter like broken bones and words ring devistation You waste yourself in incomplete Promises and crushed dreams
I wake up every day and take a nice long stretch Noticing my room is a mess My energy cannot be spent on the trivial Instead it is spent on the vital: Getting up, sitting down, eating, breathing,
The courage to do something with my life has be
I'm hugry, but I have no appetite I am heavy, but I feel frail I feel weak, but so strong My mind is racing with all these numbers I am calcuating, from weight, to calories, to ounces and grams.
Who is that lonely girl Sitting on the corner of the street Who is that lonely girl Not saying a word while she eats Who is that lonely girl Wearing the outdated shoes Who is that lonely girl
don't unlock that closet [she warned in a whisper] these ghosts have never quieted at night i hear their screams [echoing through my mind] don't you dare unlock that door [she said] don't you dare
I panic between doorways I count the breaks in stairways to rules I always adhere and I do this out of fear fear that I'll lose my sight that it will punish someone dear
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?
do not tell anyone about your father's condition, my mother said,
when i first met him i thought that he would fight off my demons, but it turns out that i just needed a friend to have my back so that i could save myself.
every time it touches me it feels so real, but when it's gone i keep doubting myself and life becomes a game of was-it-real-was-it-not and i'm so damn tired of second-guessing myself,
i can still hear its voice, saccharine and cloying, telling me you worthless girl they'd be better off without you you're just a burden (a burden) (burden)
depression is a war and catastrophe. you fight yourself, and even if you win you kill something of your essence, your soul, but there is no help because this world is predatory and only
can you feel it choking you and are you drowning drowning drowning because i can't breathe the panic's rising and what are you supposed to do when you have no idea what's gone wrong,
I am a goddess I am fierceI am flawlessI am strongI am passionateI am courageousI am powerfulI am a goddess
These chains of life they hod me back, They keep me in a spot of torture Far from light, Far from life of others, Far from anything but myself, These chains, they dont belog just to anyone,
If you really knew me you’d know i can’t pass by a mirror without pulling up my shirt, to stare at last night’s gallon of ice-cream box of cereal and bag of cookies. you’d know i have no energy
When I used to look in the mirror, I would see A girl who struggled, but yet was sometimes pretty. I struggled with my relationship with my family. Although they clothed, fed, housed, and spoiled me,
The quiet assumes the guise of a room, abandoned by many. Ghosts of a family. Once existed happily. Outdated portraits grinning, forgotten by the youth. Ignorant of truth.
An unreliable narrator She was always at a loss for words Expression never came easy, nor was Compassion, understanding, empathy Love Was not a word in her dictionary
I used to believe that everything about life was wonderous
Wounded body of Carrie- the Cancer patient Wounded soul of Barry- the Bipolar patient
Bipolar disorder is a major part of my life I cannot let certain people know If my job knew, They may search for a reason to fire me I would be considered a liability If a school I applied to knew,
It's the gaurana, the crickets, the dust bunnies gaurding curtains, gates to a kingdom of ants on a windowsill. It's the tangled, ragged ropes, once daisy chains with wide, flattened faces
Beat me down Pull my hair A constant frown It's so unfair My mind is distorted It makes me see things that aren't really there My body is contorted God, I wish I didn't care
he thought no one heard him but i did through the wall. it killed me a little bit more every day to hear him cry. and i wanted to tell him that it would be okay one day,
Maybe you fall down sometimes Maybe the voices speak up again Maybe you get lost easily Maybe you don’t have to have everything figured out Maybe… Maybe some days are harder than others
Honesty is a lonesome place When you’re lying on the ground And you find yourself
She talks to me, She tells me things she wouldn't tell others. Like how one day she will break free
From asylum to asylum I never seem to change, Whether it is a shotgun to my head, Or to that bully from fifth grade, I am a pressure cooker full of rage. No longer, No more, My trust in you is gone,
I live within broken mirrors— Fragmenting my mind.
Depression is an ocean The horrible thoughts you have - the water The fears you have - the fish The friends you have - the other boats
Sun beats down on soft green grass,
Tall, knowing trees danced in the soft breeze that carried a sweet melody.
“Wow, what a psycho” Says the girl sitting next to me. How clever she is Laughing at the uncontrollable misfortune of others.
From having answers to knowing none. I thought that it was all made up that you could control anything if you tried hard enough I chalked it up to lack of discipline or emotions but then it happened to me
This is what the front line is like A line where all have stood at points in life A trial of tears, stress and pain Deception is an ugly site There is some sort of delight
Prescription pills can't remove a little thing I like to call stigma.
Shifting eyes, tight throat, hiding my face as I watch the class make fun of a girl for sharing her issues about PTSD
She fights it every day. When will it stop? The pain. The suffering. She starts to lose reality.
You'll be offended: "Religion: mental illness." Truth does yield anger.
3 months of my life I don't remember Nuerons dying Brain bruised When I woke up from the sudden sleep I had no answers The Doctors who have dedicated their entire
Body under blanket; sick in mind. Coughing tears into a delicate tissue as fragile as the aching heart, that rests heavily between two collapsing lungs. Filled with gasped air and racing blood,
It’s not about feeling sad But rather a lack thereof. Not a mind that is toil clad But one that is naked and cold No rain or storm dons the skies, Just clouds that mildly cover.
All you are is wonder; tied up in a bow wth that curling smile, Sparked when I lean in to hear the mumbling seeping from your lips. You are rolling waves of stylistic happenings,
You would be the thickest chapterCited on the dedication page, tooFeatured throughout my table of contents, your name-the most proverbial word in my glossary
at a crossroads, where the roads diverge into a yellow wood
I am miss
You never had to hit my grandmom You probably thought your shouts were unheard So you smacked her until your hand throbbed You never gave her love or concern So know, we're better without you.
People use the word "crazy" like it's a drug."Did you see that video? It was so crazy!" "That exam was crazy hard, I don't think I passed."
I hear voices Go see the school psychologist I am not eating anything Go see the nurse I am cutting myself Go see a guidance counselor I am pregnant Go see Planned Parenthood
Sitting on a park benchAn amazing vantage pointSeeing the world pass by Listening carefully to every noiseHear a mother and a child, a husband and wife
All this time I was waiting for a signA time when it wouldn't hurt so muchA place where I could love myself And not retort to a blade
Deadlines Closing in, a crouching tiger Waiting for me to fail, say something wrong As if I didn't hate myself enough already "Quit making excuses, there was plenty of time for this assignment"
Red, The colour you bleed As you pour your heart To the stranger on the bus. Red, The colour you bleed As you pace back and forth in your bedroom Contemplating
This is for the man on the corner of First and Dunn with a sign that breaks hearts and makes everybody run home to their heaters and high-tech computers
From the second we are conceived we overcome, Not a second in life goes by where we have not overcome, We fight out entire lives, Behind closed doors and out in the open,
On her arm, not in pen, lady writes a phrase, not the most safe way, but with a razor blade. she feels like no one loves her, no point to be on earth, we know that it’s the opposite, but she’ll never know her worth.
Do drugs make faces lie? Does liquor deepen the hole? Cut once to fill it. When mirrors break, glue can only dull shards.
"just be happy" is never the appropriate thing to say to somebody who doesn't know what happy is.
Sick severed lipsHolding my bare hips.Like Achilles heel,The emotional appeal is severed. And though I have no brainI can't really complainOf the wonders in the skyAnd how high I can go.
Are you proud of me? I wanted so badly, to be, what you wanted me to be. I've tried, I've struggled, I've fought, And I've stumbled. Am I proud of where I am today? I'm here,
Music is for the broken whose will has been abandoned and suicidal thoughts have nested. So quick to contemplate death. Instead a track plays to vibe with the heart and mend the mind to health.
alone strictly practiced discipline on cold tile unforgiving begin swelling rushing water a raging orchestra filling the tub distract
I turn like an unbalanced ballerina in the face of the mirror, Examining each curve and pudge of the body I have been drilled to hate, And squint critically as I suck in my stomach. Am I pretty yet?
she silently stares at the monsters under her bed chin resting on the knees she has pulled to her chest, eyes as empty as the rhythmic heart beating— out of obligation— between her ribs.
Learning acceptance of what cannot be changed, Gaining knowledge of destruction, Unveiling of the path which cannot be ignored, Learning old ways which cannot be ignored,
You love him he loves you There's something not supporting you two. It cuts through your love like a double-edged sword, You were barely even warned. You thought that love would be enough,
Your eyes never lost the sight of my soul, as you took my hand from me, while you wear my gold. My heart longs for you, or so I'm told. 'Cause when I woke one day, you left me
Tears stream down my face as my mind begins to scatter Feelings of hopelessness overwhelm my being Depression is no longer a word, it’s a part of me I can’t breathe
Coping mechanisms have increased Until loads of weight are placed onto my shoulder Relapses from what I once was From what I once did
They never stop Tears stream down my face I long for them to stop But they never stop
Internalize what you love, despise desire lose yourself, entire yet don't dismiss that inner tormented artist when did we proclaim that our dreams were unattainable?
Shattered Destroyed, crumbling Crumbled into pieces Broken beyond recognition Never to be intact again Death is a welcome end Sinking, wasting Save me