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Poems about yourself

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I am a blade

With gritty hands, you grab me upside down
Abusing me, but with good intentions

You slash away at heavy air and stab the brick wall. Although seemingly useless, your demons run in fear.

With gritty hands, you grip me again upside down
You abuse me, but I know you're not to blame

You slash away again and again through your opposer's clothes. You are sanguine and happy to punish.

I know it's not your fault, but it fucking hurts bitch.

Mar 28, 20 at 8:38pm

Taken up
By me
It’s kinda
Hard to


My Castle has become My Prison

The walls that make my castle, were built by my own hand,
Built to protect myself inside, from a world I cant understand.
From a world that never understood me, or ever gave a care,
so these walls went up in a hurry, within the depths of my despair.
I fortified their foundations, and built them stone by stone,
Never realizing all along, that they would leave me all alone.
When someone tried to get in, I felt I was under attack,
And so I’d build another wall, to push them further back.
But now when I stand upon the ramparts, all I see within my gaze,
Is an infinite expanse of walls, like a never ending maze.
This maze doesn’t lead to the middle, or even from the middle out,
Just a barrage of constant dead ends, that make me cry and shout.
I didn’t want it to end like this, I just didn’t want to feel the pain,
But now my castle has become my prison, and I’m dying here in vain.


From darkness doth light shine through, for now I see.

Mine burdens art lifted.

Though I toil in fear I hath been freed.

Acceptance of thine truth I hath been gifted.

Life forever is mine to keep.

Aug 01, 21 at 12:22am

A shadow follows me
It cannot be seen, heard nor known
But it follows as I follow back
One year?
Two years?
One hundred years?
I know not when our faces meet
But I know it's a certainty
An inevitability
Sometimes I try to imagine how we meet
On a train, fishing trip gone wrong or a hospital bed?
But I know it's nothing that can be read
So I wait, full of dread
For the sandman to take my head
And the shadow will be dead

Aug 01, 21 at 1:34pm

Roses are red

Violets are blue

If I had a brick

I would throw it at you



Mine soul press forward
Each step closer on path
Surrounded by none as I reach wayward
Forgotten am I, a life filled from wrath.


So I have bipolar and I wrote this to help explain to people what it's like to have rapid cycling bipolar type 1; seems like a perfect thread to share lmao

Imagine, for a minute, what it means to be active
Your engine in your brain is pumping out many actions
Distractions, while they’re a thing, don’t mess up your interactions
Passions, those being imagined or examined, are your psychological cannon

And then snap

Nothing suddenly makes a lick of sense anymore
Pumping motivation thick in your mind helped before,
Buzzing your senses fails even as you’re on the floor
Discussing in your head your meaning; what do you live for?

And then snap

Life seems as if it’s back, or is it? It is strange.
Inner strife isn’t your goal, but your dreams are in range.
Like a knife, you begin to cut through life’s interchange
Dreaming about that highlife, your obsession’s deranged

And then snap

What the heck just happened? Your emotions are gone.
Clear cut dreams and goals vanish as if they were cons
But how? It was in your grasp! You need to hold on!
Cut the shit. You’re nothing more than a disgusting spawn.

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