Poetry competition CLOSED 20th March 2018 2:22am
Miss_Sub (- Missy -)
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RUNNERS-UP: Jade-Pandora and nightbirdblue

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Blade Artist
Twisted Dreamer
United Kingdom
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Joined 2nd Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 84

Poetry Contest

Stories about mental health.
Rhyme, any rhyme scheme

Your life or someone you support or care for


Show respect for other poets shares

Support each other with your words

Collaborate or be as concise or longwinded as you desire

Do not dismiss the previous wordsmiths share

- Missy -
Tyrant of Words
United Kingdom
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Joined 26th June 2011
Forum Posts: 6855

XII: The Hanged Man (Tarot Series)

At twenty-three  
I had a nervous breakdown    
and I'm still not sure    
what the fuck happened.    
I remember walking barefoot,    
I remember car headlights    
I even remember the horns    
upon my father's head    
I can still envisage    
the shrinking walls, my mother    
on the phone to the doctor    
tapping her left foot against    
the telephone table.    
They prescribe you things    
you genuinely can't pronounce,    
make you fill out strange forms    
that ask you if you've thought    
of suicide in the past week    
and you lie and say no    
because you still retain    
some fucking dignity    
even though it's been there    
every day, every hour    
every waking moment.    
During therapy you tell them    
that you ran, and didn't go home    
you tell them of sleeping    
under the iron bridge,    
you tell them about "that man"    
you show them his burn marks    
and scars up and down your body    
you show them where    
the claw-hammer went in    
they jot down illegible scribbles    
about your fear of going outside,    
and how your world has gone    
down the proverbial shitter    
and they look at you.    
They fucking look at you    
like you're a pot plant    
or a ceramic jug    
incapable of response    
and somewhere    
in what's left of    
the rotting carcass    
of your bones    
you remember him.    
You remember his weight    
grinding your soul to dust,    
you remember the way your name    
left his lips like crushed chalk    
you remember him,    
you remember it all    
as you clutch yourself;    
an empty chalice    
before the hanged man    
and the deadpan woman    
making strange notes    
on your death.
Written by Miss_Sub (- Missy -)
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- Missy -
Tyrant of Words
United Kingdom
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Joined 26th June 2011
Forum Posts: 6855


Miss_Sub (- Missy -)
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jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 4043


1.  No Recall      
I didn't see or feel or hear it coming.      
And then I came to after the      
Annihilation of all I thought I knew      
Once I tumbled down the rabbit hole.      
2.  Morning Glories      
The whispers of clean linen      
Float across narrow beds of    
Brutality, and reflections      
Of a summer's early morning,      
As melodic rapid chatter      
Of Tagalog plays through the halls    
While pairs of girls in their scrubs      
Disappear into recessed rooms,    
To the sound of greetings weaving      
Between a woman's cries of pain.      
3.  Under the Snow      
Triple digits of the season      
Pass week after week outside,      
Unnoticed by those doing time;      
This asylum with arctic air.      
Who are they kidding?      
I've been here long enough to know.      
I actually died that day,      
And this, this is my hell!      
Hell is not fire & brimstone.      
It's a parallel world from which      
No locks exist, yet no escape      
To return to where you came from.    
Patients, whose eyes you look into,      
And no one is there!      
It's where all fear goes at night,      
Their voices are heard through the walls.      
But those with their vacant stares      
That I can't penetrate have their truths      
Forever frozen in time    
In cages where they walk in place.    
The cold numbs hands & feet & thoughts,      
But I feel alive because of it.      
Like a mouse foraging under the      
Snow while an owl listens above.      
I know the pounce will come      
Through the snow at any moment,      
Bathing me with morning light      
As owl talons sever my breath.      
4.  Night Terrors by Day      
Sooner or later it would come.      
A wide-spread power outage hit      
Just before dusk with its heat,      
Just as dinner was being served.      
I had learned to live on scant fare,      
Being a diabetic      
And having only one kidney:      
My weight loss, lost in my blue gowns.      
I was restless and felt cold air      
As I walked with my cane to the hall,      
Aqua socks with tread on my feet,      
Toward the nurses' station.      
Thick orange extensions snaked      
Everywhere, and the "regulars"      
Emerged to sit in their wheelchairs      
To watch while I sat with ice water.      
But all the hustle & bustle      
Would agitate some patients,      
Making them unpredictable      
While staff was racing all about.      
There was an old man known for being      
Loud, and most disagreeable.      
He wanted out of his wheelchair,      
To go where he wanted, right?      
Nurses would stop to secure him      
As he protested and cursed.      
The regs who knew him rolled their eyes.      
I continued to sip my ice water.      
Then I noticed the white-haired lady      
I was chatting with was looking up      
And said softly, "He's behind you."      
I stiffened and hunched my shoulders.      
I tilted my head just enough      
To see the old man, his gnarly hands      
Gripping the backrest of my chair,      
Glaring down at me with eyes bulging.      
"Get out of my way!" came the frost.      
I bent lower against the chill.      
"I'm sorry, I'm not in my wheelchair."  
(Being stranded in a stiff wooden one)  
I felt the spray of his spittle      
On the back of my hand holding the cup.      
"I don't give a God damn," came the blast,      
"Get on the floor and crawl out of the way!"    
5.  No One Will Know      
Every evening, the asylum      
Gives up its creatures of the night:    
The stalkers who haunt the halls,    
Who try all the doors to get in, or out.    
And homeless creatures on two legs    
Who I would often walk in on,    
Using the toilet meant for me,    
And watch the TV while I slept.    
But no, in that place I could never sleep,     
I used to be nocturnal years ago.    
But all I could do now was listen    
To the jungle cries and siren calls.    
I'd stagger out to the empty lobby,    
Hearing a man far off in his room    
Calling out for someone to please,      
"Dear God, TAKE ME HOME!"      
The man in the next room in bed A    
Hollered out from the open door,    
And I screamed, "YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!"    
Once I was back in bed, that same voice    
As all slept while I laid awake, plotting, said    
"Hey, give me some more Demerol.    
Don't worry... no one will know."                  
For those who knew that I was gone (which was due to a terrible accident), here's some of what my time away was like - just a taste of it.            
Image: An original drawing: one of my oldest "mouseworks", by me.
Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
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Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 30th July 2017
Forum Posts: 113

a beautiful distraction

Hard headed and soft hearted
Be sodded and be witched
The hypnagogic sheer panic
Cure and the killer on a switch...

Lucifer is the light bearer
While Satan brings the dark
The Devil's meds for bi-polar
Should be increased in parts...

Their sigil of ancient delusion
Cast into the hearts of men
With a symbolic ring of truth
A lie from the pit they send...

They're too large to have query
And too nuanced to quanitize
Cry me a river of your sorrows
Says the dry heart hypnotized...

Now our germ of immortality
Spread across illusionary time
The principalities and powers
They write deceit upon the line...

As all things must then break
So entropy reigns supreme
A king of shadows blocks the light
Our world is not what it seems...
Written by runaway-mindtrain
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Dangerous Mind
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Forum Posts: 468

is it my fault
i look like this
no baby
it's not your fault
is it your fault then
partly baby partly
why mommy
we walked a road
we didn't know
where common sence                
had no meaning
where we stand at the graves            
of the ones that we gave
but a short life of grieving
when we allowed
to twist
the living

Dangerous Mind
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Forum Posts: 468

yes baby
I don't feel good
and i keep getting
bad thoughts in my head
I don't want them pills
please mummy
I hurt
im sorry baby
but that nice man
the physiatrist
you have another mental problem
so you have to take
these other pills
what that man who smiles
like a shark mummy
what shark baby
you know the one
that one on the dvd
who wants to eat the jelly fish
no he doesn't  baby
he is a nice man
he knows everything
about childrens problems
so you have to take
these other pills
but mummy
before you made me
take pills
I never hurt like this
its for your own good
because you keep daydreaming
and you don't sit still in class
but mummy
I get bored
that's why
you have to take the pills baby
but mummy
my friends mum says
its normal
for children to daydream
to not sit still
to be bored sometimes
to shout or cry for no reason
my friends mum says
its all part
of growing up
did grandma make you
take pills
when you were bored
no baby
so why
do you make me

Dangerous Mind
United States
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Forum Posts: 1454

Outside is not for Outsiders

Dedicated to those who suffer from agoraphobia

Outside is no place for an outsider
Best stay inside where they leave you alone
Outside love and friendliness is not condoned
Especially for those who are not of this zone

Out there they just stare at one who is not their own
Beware of the outside when you’re an outsider
What might happen to you out-there is unknown
Inside is far safer than outside for an outsider
Outsider, you’ll never hear, “Hi, Hello, or Shalom”
‘Lonely,’ is the name of this city they call their home
So outsider, best heed my sincere reminder
Don’t go outside when you an outsider

Stay inside, be content with being on your own
Written by snugglebuck
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Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 22nd Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 494

Fixing and Fighting Mental Health

The demons and shadows pretend to be your friends,
But they only talk down to you like you are a child.
You are not good enough and why are you still here?
You are no one. Why are you trying to make amends?
You have been portrayed as an outcast and exiled.
All you want is to be understood and in the top tier,
But nobody gets that when you drag your feet around.
Nobody gets that you are really lonely and that you do
Not want to exist anymore because they never ask
You. The truth is that you have already drowned
Too many times, but people never pay attention to
That anymore because you walk around with a mask
On. A smile that says I am okay, but you are really
Screaming in your head that no, I am not okay and
I need help. Stop believing that you are helpless.
Your thoughts are running wild like an untamed filly.
You try to calm and silence them, but every strand
Keeps slipping through your hands. You are anxious
And high strung, but if you speak out people would
Think that you are crazy or weird, but know that
You are never truly alone with the closed door.
People have to realize we all come with the good
And bad parts. Life sometimes gives us a flat
Tire and expect us to fix it when there are more
People out there who need our help. We cannot
Ignore the silence or people who think too much
In their heads. We cannot simply avoid the masses
Who feel alone and completely isolated. They fought,
But all they need is just a gentle reminder or touch.
Someone to help them take off their eyeglasses
And trust that we are all fighting this together
While holding on strong through the weather.
Written by eswaller
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Nathaniel Peter
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 18th Sep 2017
Forum Posts: 363

Identity Interrogation (a partial palindrome poem)

Oh to touch troubled waters in a storm mind
And quench a parched heart with self made wine
Like my blood is a sacred spill
Make meaning of a long for significance
When I was raised to believe in a calling
Like destiny to distinguish identity
As we pedestal the young
And indicate the future with grandeur
With eyes sparked on the flint of imagination
I remember when I once believed a dream could come true
Somewhere along the way my hopes keeled over to a nightmare
Crisis identity of father
I don't know
Word against silence
I sever you  
Reflecting upon self
Found conscience guilty
Reasonable madness made you  
Stabbed and bleeding out
Leaking consciousness
What is disorder?
Emotion puppet to thought  
Minced memory and fantasy  
I am delusional conspiracy
Faith or myth
Breeding self-god  
Christ anti-social
Prophet false of fraudulent foresight  
Miracle thirsty illness
Vision a mirage  
Hallucination a haunting  
Demons as angels of faces  
Spiritual inclination
Drawing extremes  
Opposites of tugging disaffection
Disaffection tugging of opposites
Extremes drawing
Inclination spiritual
Faces of angels as demons
Haunting a hallucination
Mirage a vision
Illness thirsty miracle
Foresight fraudulent of false prophet
Social anti-Christ
God self-breeding
Myth or faith
Conspiracy delusional am I
Fantasy and memory minced
Thought to puppet emotion
Disorder is what?
Consciousness leaking
Out bleeding and stabbed
You made madness reasonable  
Guilty conscience
Found self upon reflecting
You sever I
Silence against word
Know don't I
Father of identity crisis
I once knew the meaning of safety
When I spoke the language of home
But I taught myself to speak vagabond
Finding belonging in a place where no one belongs
Like a pound for rabid minds
Poisoned by trauma serpents
Swallowing orphan paradigms
Raised by white coat guardians
Warding off the wolves in me
Caught between sedation and my heart as an anchor
I swallow a chemical lullaby
And wake up losing my appetite to dream
As eyes abuse the canvas of reality
All I see is fear in the eyes of the carriers
Of those that profess a cure...
Written by cloventongue89 (Nathaniel Peter)
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Blade Artist
Twisted Dreamer
United Kingdom
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Forum Posts: 84

Much love for everyone who has shared. Honest wordsmiths brave enough to expose themselves. A difficult topic to be sure.

geoff cat
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Forum Posts: 938


(a sonnet)  
A plague of fetid blood so I’ve become
Who vomits only bile and drywall dust
In horrid little squares whose added sum
Is so much sewer pipe and iron rust      

A blood that has no purpose left to serve
But poison heart that nothing should remain
A black oil crust that’s shredding every nerve
Like shards of ground glass coursing through my brain      

I wish that I could open veins and smear
Cute rounded flowers everywhere I see
But even then would square on square appear
My blood coagulates in squares of scree

To vomit bloody squares is all I can
Which takes me back to where my shit began.
Written by Hepcat61 (geoff cat)
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Fire of Insight
United States
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Forum Posts: 138

Biopsychology - Depression's Doxology

Nebulous neurons shiver
lucent little snakes
synapses weary of transporting life
aching of staying awake

Flares fire
aggressive & finite
from firefly transmitters
only moaning to die

So stranded - effaced & snapping
aimless little astrocytes
wailing for sunrise
or just one...

euthanized night
Written by AtoMikbomb
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Nathaniel Peter
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 18th Sep 2017
Forum Posts: 363

Fragile Paradigm

Trying to put the chaos into words
And unveil the heart behind the madness
Like an illness is a character trait
And somehow I'm privileged to despair
Self induced for these thought processes
My fixation on the way things were
I orbit the thought of my father
And let it play into a paradigm for God
While the turmoil becomes my excuse
To indulge a midnight craving of flesh
While the shame settles in
Like the upset flakes in a snow-globe
I am transparent and yet scattered on the inside

Lost, feeling my way around in this world
I reach to achieve a call I feel I've wasted
I remember the first delusion of my grandeur
And the condemnation that ensued
After the breach of a boundary I tested
As I yielded my lips to a thought that haunted me
The curiosity of what is truly unpardonable
On the other side of sealing my fate with blasphemy
My mind was a nightmare for fear that all I am is a fire-starter

Thirsty for spiritual things
I sought the devil and found him in my eyes
In three day deprivation for a perceived rejection
A single mother's best attempt to help me find the ethics to thrive
Yet I gave up on living when father gave up on us
Every achievement is a colorless will to be a son worth esteeming
Living my life after a pattern of failure
Like following in the footsteps of a lacking commitment

I abandoned the task to provide in search of greatness
As I sought to coerce miracles from the hands of God
I read the signs of everything that spoke
Between the interconnections of creation
As I felt the pull of invisible voices
With a bible like a misread treasure map
To realize heaven on my own terms

My every effort found me further adrift from hope in redemption
Imagining my darkness as a sacred calling to be an iconic manifestation
Whether I was a false prophet or an anti Christ seeking out a following
As if I could in some way be distinguished enough to validate my existence
Like it's all part of the playbook for the end
Restoring humanity by way of our greatest evils
I yearned to believe we would all make it
Even as I felt myself to be the most likely to be damned

Sourced in my fear of hell for abandon on steroids
I was raised in a family, cast away in vacant cities full of vacant people
As if every face from another life was the walking dead
Only ever truly alive in the romance of a memory
Unable to distinguish between the demons I projected on them
Or the haunting of my own design
Like my sins are a portal and my lips are the gates of hell

Truer to the ways of Death than Christ
Where faith became my psychosis for thinking that I could be the beast himself
My paranoid over-analysis of government digits
And social security like precursors to the mark
My sense of self importance and inflated worth of conspiracy
Like I'm a person of interest for a stranger in a uniform stocking Facebook profiles
Like i know too much or just uttered vanities that immolated reason for knowing too little

Trying to earn my rights to know love and find a truth custom made for my reality
I gave everything I owned away, every sentimental gift and picture
I trashed my birth certificate and all other official documents
Seeking to let go of every attachment and go off grid
Looking for vantage points to know God and become a modern marvel
My mind shot through a thousand identities in search of one most suitable
In the midst of it all I was so certain we were on the cusp of the apocalypse...
Written by cloventongue89 (Nathaniel Peter)
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Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 24th Sep 2017
Forum Posts: 18

Big Pharma

Labels here cast
as defined from
their textbook:

Diagnosis #1-          
major depressive                
this horror            
she must overcome          
Here let me just
inspect your scars too:

Diagnosis #2-                
self mutilator;                
it’s her sacred                
tapestry curator            
the lines are drawn          
And so we see
further cataloging:

Diagnosis #3-                
bloodshot delirium            
portrays what she            
remains voiceless            
to speak          
But are you ready
for more?

Diagnosis #4-                
behavior of blade                
only indicator                
anxiety laced          
Then at the weigh-in
they notice too:

Diagnosis #5-                
so thin      
counting calories galore        
gaunt & gorged        
Escalating me to
hospital status:

Hypothesis #6-                
tricks intertwined    
of the mind    
further abound:

Hypothesis #7-                
of conflict                
layered frowns          
Conclusions now drawn              
on their quiet pawn.            
Close the curtains                
on their subject                
to prepare                
for the next round.
Many labcoats casually          
inspected and processed me,          
so quick to write a script          
of SSRI’s and Benzos alike.          
Oh how I did wish;          
put-me-to-sleep RX!          
So that I may dream          
most vividly tonight.
Except still, I would lie awake          
nightmares screaming wild in my face...          
There was no missed reality;                
the only Truth is that I am Me
Poetic expression, my only reprieve.      
Written by nightbirdblue
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