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Literature Text
Smile.
Laugh.
Run
Faster.
Faster.
Stop.
"What are you doing?"
Trying to escape.
"Nothing."
Look behind you.
Are they there?
Shh.
Shut up.
Don't.
Say.
Anything.
"What's wrong?"
You'll never understand it.
"Never mind."
Scream.
Scream louder.
Rip your hair out.
Cover your ears.
"Calm down."
I can't.
"I'm sorry."
They want you to die.
They're out for you.
Shut the door.
Lock it.
Unlock it.
Lock it again.
Hide.
Shh.
"Are you okay?"
I'm dying.
"I'm fine."
You'll never make it.
Freeze.
Fall to the ground.
Cry.
Cry harder.
Stop.
"What are you doing?"
Dying.
"What are you going through?"
Torture.
"What's wrong with you?"
Everything.
... "I don't know."
Laugh.
Run
Faster.
Faster.
Stop.
"What are you doing?"
Trying to escape.
"Nothing."
Look behind you.
Are they there?
Shh.
Shut up.
Don't.
Say.
Anything.
"What's wrong?"
You'll never understand it.
"Never mind."
Scream.
Scream louder.
Rip your hair out.
Cover your ears.
"Calm down."
I can't.
"I'm sorry."
They want you to die.
They're out for you.
Shut the door.
Lock it.
Unlock it.
Lock it again.
Hide.
Shh.
"Are you okay?"
I'm dying.
"I'm fine."
You'll never make it.
Freeze.
Fall to the ground.
Cry.
Cry harder.
Stop.
"What are you doing?"
Dying.
"What are you going through?"
Torture.
"What's wrong with you?"
Everything.
... "I don't know."
Literature
Therapists, I don't like their taste.
i.
in 7th grade
i didn’t know depression
until she told me her name,
carving forever scratches
along my limbs like
little love notes on the bark
of a tree.
she stole my rings
and left me hollow.
ii.
i had only ever met anxiety
in passing, until one day
he handed me power and told me
to hurt someone else with it.
iii.
inexperienced,
with an uncontrollable
quivering in my fingers,
he whispered, “ to survive,
you must learn quickly.”
as i shoved the bevel of a needle
into a strangers arm.
iv.
so, if a therapist
could talk away my scars
like iodine disinfects,
guide the ships
through
Literature
I Am Not
I am not Ugly; you're just holding the mirror wrong.
I am not Blind; I just love to listen.
I am not Retarded; I just learn differently than you.
I am not ADHD; the world just fascinates me.
I am not Depressed; this is how I smile
I am not Fat; I'm just as big as my heart.
I am not Bisexual; I want to share my love with all.
I am not Cross-eyed; One eye sees beauty in this universe,
the other looks towards my future.
Before you think you may have the answer, on who I'm supposed to be,
No.
I am not Special; I'm just being me.
Literature
R.I.P Words
Do you know what it feels like?
To feel something, but...
be unable to express what it is;
to be silent;
to fight it alone.
I know how much it hurts,
but I don't know how to show it.
Poetry used to be my refuge,
a place where I could be alone -
express all my emotions,
without being judged.
I'm losing it.
I can't connect to poetry.
Everything sounds so stupid...
Everything I write sounds stupid.
I have to erase all my feelings,
because they don't sound right.
The words aren't real.
They don't show what I feel
And maybe this will be the last.
Maybe I'm gone:
lost of all emotions.
I'm truly alone...
I used to have poetry.
Now I have not
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I have something close to schizophrenia, but not quite.
I just decided to title it something different than my last poem, about Bipolar xD
Thanks for reading, comment maybe?
I just decided to title it something different than my last poem, about Bipolar xD
Thanks for reading, comment maybe?
© 2012 - 2024 MikkiMarie
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I’ve prob fav’d this 3-4 different times by now switching accounts and I re add it every time because I found it however long ago and still think about it all the time.