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Honest PsychiatristNormal, your brain is not.
Take a guess at what you got.
It's needed for your medication.
Label shouldn't cause frustration.
Guess at what pill to take.
So many that they make.
Don't know about your brain.
Could make you more insane.
Effects are usually small.
You may have none at all.
We warn just so you know,
Your pain may just grow.
Your brain isn't fried.
Just another to be tried.
Patience is what I need.
I promise it isn't greed.
So here's another pill.
Maybe now you won't be ill.
My SociopathMy sociopath.
People are just a means,
To achieve your goals.
You don't really care.
It's all pretend.
I wonder if they can tell?
But I'm different.
I'm your love,
Even if I don't love you,
Even if I can't love you.
You will protect me,
And care for me,
And I will show you kindness.
I will act as if I care,
Because you make me happy.
Your manipulations will get you far,
The Father's LoveI lie here on the cold floor
Darkness is my only companion
Depression hits like a tidal wave
Live seems so pointless
Death will always be knocking at my door
And sometimes I want to answer it
But instead I shoot up a silent prayer
I'll hope to a God if he's up there
Maybe He can rescue me
Maybe, just maybe, He will hear my cry
Maybe, just maybe, He'll see my pitiable state
And while I lie here crying I feel something
A warmth consumes my body
I feel a peace come over my soul
I fall into the love of the Father
He wraps His arms of love around me
And somehow I think I might be able to make it
The dark suddenly does seem so black
The floor doesn't feel quite so cold
And life seems like it may be worth living
In this moment of peace, I gain strength
I rise to my feet and move towards the door
The outside world will try and crush me
It will beat me down and bruise me
But I know that someone cares
And maybe, just maybe, that will be enough to get me through this life.
HiddenYou doubt me
cast me to the back of your thoughts
I dont want to be here
i want to be out in the open!
I want to be shared with the world!
because of the others words
you keep me hidden...
and whenever i show my face
trying to show you who you really are
you deny me
And shout those awful words
ever scaring words...
I guess i'll just stay here
waiting in the darkness until you're ready
continue to live the lie
continue to repress me
continue to deny me
I cannot fight it anymore
i cannot stop you
What is going on?
broken dishesgod dammit.
i woke up today
feeling just as sick
as i did when i went to bed
i woke up today
wanting to break
in my house
just so i wouldn't be
the only thing
Eyes That Watch MeEyes that watch me,
eyes that don't.
Eyes that follow me,
eyes that won't.
Eyes in my family and
eyes in my friends.
Eyes in nature that
never seem to end.
Eyes that watch every move I make,
every breath I take,
every word I utter and mutter and stutter.
Eyes that judge me, love me and hate me;
Eyes that fear me, loathe me, pity me;
Eyes that want to be me and curse me for existing.
But the eyes that watch me the most,
always the most critical,
are the eyes that
I write...I write...
I write because it seems this keyboard and these letters are the only ones that understand me.
I write because I need someone to talk to.
I write because no one else cares to listen.
I bleed my feelings onto these pages because I don't know what else to do.
I write because I need a release of emotion.
When I write tears often fall.
I write when I need to figure things out.
I write to give myself a place to vent without judgement.
Sure, you may judge anyways but, I'd never know.
Not like if I was standing in front of you or talking to you on the phone and things got akward or you suddenly had to go.
Not that you would take the time to listen if I was, no one has.
I have even been to therapists that get PAID to listen, it seems they can't be bothered either.
Mistaking my words, twisting them or not even hearing them at all.
So I write.
It's the only thing I have.
It's the only way to share my voice.
Then YOU can choose to read it or not.
For anyone out there feeling a
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More