dont wanna post em to my main account ygm

i like writing things

[badpoemsandshit]

Smoke -

Oh you purple haze.

Unfiltered smog like a bath,

Quiet and unassuming. 

I stumble with these creaking lungs

over the worn and aged rubble of the sun.

Echoes emerge, muffled and distant

I can't remember who it sounds like. 

Is it me?

The circle branded on my arm mocks me,

Pitiful woman.

Weep into the fog.

For you will burn again and you will dance in the flames.

[badpoemsandshit]

This train speeding off the tracks is comfortable

It feels like home

The carriage is rattling and I hear music in the thuds

I know the sounds

See I'm heading into new territory here and the familiar chaos brings me comfort

I will always be drawn to that 3am crisis call like a light from a cottage in a forest

A hospital bed is a hospital bed no matter where you are.

[badpoemsandshit]

This surface wound I used to pick at

It runs deep into my muscles and bones.

This surface wound I would wish to heal

It permeates my pores and it dilutes my blood.

This surface wound I slathered with cream and bandages

It has woven itself into my DNA.

How can something be a wound, when there is nothing to call healthy?

How can we compare something to health, when there is nothing to call healthy?

This surface wound I used to pick at.

[badpoemsandshit]

My friend stopped me crossing the road today, she held my arm tight as she saw a car I didn’t, but as I felt her grip hold me back that familiar primal fear took over.

I need to run I need to leave why won’t they let me leave I want to get away

Two years have passed, yet I cannot watch friends hold each other back from fights and I turn my head when I see the fluorescent yellow of police.

Please please let me go I promise I won’t run can I please sit forward I feel sick I want to leave let me leave

I saw my old flatmate in the supermarket last month, we shared shiny smiles and half a conversation about the price of bread.

"Ed do you want me to take over holding her back for the next hour you look tired” I’m begging you I’m here I’m real let me go this hurts I need control back please oh god please

The bruises on my collarbones lasted a week, but the damage seems to have gone deeper than I thought.

[badpoemsandshit]

I have realised something, something that I think I always knew, but locked in a corner of my mind. Life is to be lived, and to live is to feel. To feel is to experience joy and pain. I spent years trying to avoid pain, but secretly sought it out. I spent years confused, years searching. Life is joy yes, but life is pain as well. To live is to experience pain - and I would never want to cut that out. As much as I need joy, I need pain. I need to feel, I need to live.

the pathologizing of life

[badpoemsandshit]

I want to end an evening without my makeup tear-tracked down my face. But do I? I don’t know what it is I want. My thoughts overlap like colours, the yellow and blue make green, the blue and red make purple, and everything is nonsensical. I had decided that these extremes make me, that they make my life what it is. But here I am, in the midst of an extreme and I don’t know what is me. I don’t know what are my thoughts and what is the disorder bleeding through. I used to worry about blood coming through my pyjamas at 13 from marks carved in to my arms using scissors and a protractor, yet now the thoughts and the mindsets over the year have muddied in my mind and I worry about each mindset bleeding through the other. I’m confused.

[badpoemsandshit]

I want you to hate the idea of me

I want you to remember me with pain

I want you to hear the word cadence and weep.

Because I know I care more

I cared more about the end

But I want, I need you to feel pain.

I need you to feel what I feel

I need you to hate the idea of me

Because that way I know it was real.

[badpoemsandshit]

How can I describe this

To those who haven't felt the brook

The stream that lies under my skin

The river that runs with neurotransmitters

A dopamine current drags me under

An ocean wave like an orgasm

This meaning only comes when they say I am unwell

It serves to remind me of the drought that is stability

Please, am I making sense?

I need you to understand.

[badpoemsandshit]

I can't fail again

I can't be the girl who cant count her attempts on her nicotine stained fingers

I cant fail again

I cant be the girl who spits in the face of the people she loves

I cant fail again

I cant be the girl who was too weak to follow through

No

This time I will not fail.

[badpoemsandshit]

Am I just this?

Misfiring synapses in a broken brain?

Or are there more to these playpark swings

As I fly higher

As my music grows 

As my creativity soars

The doctors say no my friends say no my family says no

But as the book says - am I touched with fire?

[badpoemsandshit]

I am greedy

Swallowing tablet after tablet

Theres not enough to satiate me

I am thirsty

Drinking wine by the bottle

Theres not enough to quench me

For you see

My hunger and thirst drive me

To what is inevitable

To the end

[badpoemsandshit]

My suicidal gestures

Are they just that?

Swallowing candy pills

Swinging from a rope of ribbon

Do I really want to die?

My thoughts say yes

Yet my heart says no

The cycle must end

At some point

[badpoemsandshit]

Falling onto the floor of the A&E car park

The floor felt like clouds yet ice

Unable to move, to speak, to think

Overdose seems peaceful but the truth is far from this

Iain speaks to me, "please stay awake"

An IV drip running through my veins like treacle

Will anything help me?

[badpoemsandshit]

yesterday I sat on my bed

surrounded by friends I deemed my prison officers

the moon called to me

come home

come home

yet the earth wound around my ankles and I could not fly

psychosis turns you against the world

against friends

against yourself

[badpoemsandshit]

You were forever

Soft days and warm nights

The smell of you in my cigarettes and the sight of you in the sunrise

A firework at night, bright colours and loud sounds

You were my life

What will it be without you?

[badpoemsandshit]

I am the cheap wine I drink out the bottle

I am the coping mechanisms I refuse to use

I am the meticulous plans of suicide

I am the dreams of police restraining me

My own thoughts

They betray me

[badpoemsandshit]

I am not sick enough for help

But I am too sick to live

You see these empty bottles of wine line up on my shelf

Like the friends who have left

Like the number of times I've tried to free myself from this earth

I am not sick enough for help

But I am too sick to live