41. The Fire
The fire that rages
from within my rib cage is
weakening the bones
that should make me strong.
The fire that rages
from within my rib cage is
weakening the bones
that should make me strong.
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Deep inside her mind,
Behind a picture-perfect smile,
Lies a desolate, lonely place
She hasn't visited for a while.
I related so much to this poem. As a middle school girl, this line from the poem, "Nobody knows her struggles. If only they would ask. She didn't have to fight this alone and hide behind a...
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I send anxiety
a cease and desist letter.
I close her mouth.
Unbind her gnawing disquiet,
I get a funny feeling,
it comes from deep inside.
I get all mad and angry,
wanting to go and hide.
I was diagnosed schizo-effective at 35 but I was having problems way before then. I began hearing voices when I was 29. I lost who I was and became something else. I was always wild and...
She can be a handful.
Yes, this is true.
But you won't look at her
In the ways that I do.
In the early hours,
As most should be sleeping,
I sit in our bedroom window and perform a ritual.
Smoking a cigarette, wrapped tightly in a blanket,
I don't know how to tell you I'm afraid without feeling weak.
I don't know how to tell you I'm hurting and how I wish this pain would cease.
I don't know how to tell you I'm lonely without feeling incomplete.
I don't know how to tell you I'm tired and how I wish this burden would decrease.
The despair that holds her back tugs on her heartstrings
But like a puppet she will obediently play along
She was once optimistic and filled with joy
The puppet was me. I still feel like that sometimes. Last year I had to break the strings. I was in an 8 year relationships. I was his puppet. Whatever he said to do, I had to do it or he...
I hear them there every day.
Why will they not go away?
They tell me that I'll be betrayed.
Will it really be that way?
Just wanted to say that I loved your poem. I can relate to it so well because I have those same voices inside my head since I was like 15 and I'm almost 49 now and they are even worse today...
Slippery, sweet, syrupy words sticking in my brain
A lie
They won't go away no matter how much I try to send them back to where they came from
A lie
Take a step back,
Learn how to breathe.
Take a step back
And just be.
This was a beautiful poem about taking control. I deeply enjoyed this, especially because at the moment, I am going under quite a large amount of stress. There is a huge exam that includes...
If one day, I could have a helium balloon,
And be carried away with just one little bloom,
The petals sweep around me, light enough to fly,
So little to eat, surprised I did not die,
I have an eating disorder and it hurts inside. These poems really help
Turmoil covers my eyes and my heart.
It never leaves me in day or dark.
Combat changed me to this way.
Hate and death seem to be with me to stay.
Flashbacks run through my mind
My hands find their way to my hair
They grab, pull, scratch
"STOP IT!" I try to scream
It is in the dark of night
When insomnia sings me awake
To the tune of lullabies
And the rhythm of mindful blight.
I love the intimacy between the poet and these "hindrances." The relationship between nature, insomnia and anxiety around the poet at first is inviting, and calming. It isn't until daylight,...
hello, I love you, goodbye.
Sometimes I wonder why I try.
most days seem the same;