Phobias
I stay hidden in the backgrounds of old Hanna Barbara cartoons
a cycle on repeat until the next cell is used
I hide, even when I'm supposed to belooking
Crowds destroy me and become worse then prisons
I used to be a social butterfly
but now I'm nothing but a common moth
I live right before everyone's prying and greedy eyes
Until the time comes for them to go blind
I guess I'll always be the weirdo, the freak, the out cast
That's fine, I'd rather be true to me then lie to you
I'll be damned, it wasn't just a phase
It was just a mental illness diagnosis and a few new phobias
I thought with the march of time we're supposed to grow wiser
But I feel like I know less now then I did ten years ago
Is that how the brain works?
Running on nostalgia sold from the bed of a pickup truck
outside of a Denny's.
I can only be truly certain on one thing now
and that is that I know nothing but what I'm afraid of
So I'll stay hidden on the edges of linear notes I wrote
Because I am afraid of everything that breathes
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i glance in the pool of algae,
and i reflect back to me
an image like narcissus, but
who i see is murky green
with a darkness underneath
eyes— a violent sea—
not due to the sprigs and leaves
or all that dirt and all the bees
that have drowned in it like me—
in another life, another time—
but only because who i see
is not who i know myself to be,
suddenly awash with a horrid wish
to be nobody.
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Ruth Awad, from “Let me be a lamb in a world that wants my lion”
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Cimmerian Days
Steeped in hardship
Joys are scattershot
As ennui drifts inward
Like a surging tempest
Before faultless ruin
wpm
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a fading summer sheds
the moon in rivers of red,
thirsty wolves roam
the rain kissed earth,
embers dance
the howling wind,
life thrums with death,
a lullaby of stars.
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i've found myself lost in the meaning
of being a 'kind person.'
everyone throws that term at me
like we're playing catch at the park.
with a smile, i look to be a positive force
for other people, healing the wounds in their heart.
i wish so badly to feel gratified for my actions,
even though there's no ulterior motives behind them.
for so many other people,
happiness appears to come naturally.
i envy them in a way words cannot express.
after all, it hurts so much -
no matter how much kindness i show
towards those i care for,
it might never be enough.
that same warm feeling
does not reflect itself
when i look in the mirror.
'self-disdain.'
d.b.a
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I’m
I’m obsessive, I’m compulsive
I’m the disorder
I’m bipolar, I’m paranoid
I’m the psychosis
I’m schizophrenic, I’m delusional
I’m the hallucination
I’m depression, I’m postpartum
I’m the personality trait
I’m misconception, I’m misconstrued
I’m the stigma
I’m paraphrenia, I’m paraphernalia
I’m the substance-abuse
I’m diagnoses, I’m treatment
I’m the medication
I’m hope, I’m faith
I’m the cure
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