Shaken not stirred a poem

DX'd - Other
1

If the mind is a paper cup,
It takes a lifetime to fill it up,
But if you happen to poke a hole
It’s all spills out and your exposed

Dying inside every day
You go on living your life anyway
You learn to spite yourself
You churn inside yourself
Any hope you have they take away
Impossible to think it’ll be alright someday

Schizophrenia a myriad of things
Perhaps a sign that the death bell rings
Tread lightly to stay a float
Your now on a delicate boat
These are treacherous waters
Cant find company in the others

It’s when the cup is empty you’ve lost your soul
It’s all because of the push and pull

They hate you tried and true
For being different for being you
Set me off once and they’ll never let it go
That’s how the cover of mental illness goes

Pour out your paper cup before its to late
It’s the only way to end the hate

They grow angrier and angrier by the hour
Nothing to do but feel their power

There is no way out its a mystery
They keep that way so you can’t see
No way to reclaim what your entitled too
They all understand but won’t show you
A normal life is all you want
But the life you get is under the gun

It’s how they want it, your suffering
Whoever it is they may be

2 Likes
2

Nice poem BA, I think most of it is true, people are often barriers to our well-being and happiness, plus it rhymes, I don’t like poems that don’t rhyme… Like Haikus.

1 Like
3

I’ll always be jealous their enjoying there lives. Meanwhile I’m stuck in this rotten mind. They don’t care I’m suffering, they keep it going as plain as can be. I’m safe in knowing they’ll never touch me, but my minds a playground and their ■■■■■■■ with me.

It’s best to hide in conformity. Do what you want but don’t overthink. Life is so different when your mind is open. They’ll expose your flaws and try turning you into a demon. Hold on to peace and innocence. If there is a god perhaps he’ll make more sense.

So depressing this battle I’m in. Now I know that I can’t win. I’ll never have silence ever again. Berating voices all about sin. Not a sin of action but a sin of thought. A suggestion a belief an imposition, why not?

Never known how it was gonna be. No way to expect what they done to me. They expect me to function like everyone else, but tear me apart at any moment I felt, or thought, or questioned myself.

What am I to do to pass the time? What can I do to preoccupy my mind? They stole my wonderment, they’re stopping my thoughts, and at the end of the day it’s all my fault.

I will become something else entirely, running silent carless and free.
I don’t think that’ll stop this mental beating but there is guilt where there is no fault.

I’ll forget was has passed even though they will not.

Telepathy what a trip, what a show.

By now I know they won’t let go.

I’m a freak, I’m a mess, someone they could have helped but they saw my differences and sent me to hell.

I lack any sense of reality. Any belief in anything. It is what it is is all I say. I used to care I used to play.

When it’s your experience it’s your reality, try and deny it with rigorous philosophy. But you can’t stop it you’ve been beat.

Life goes on I guess, but if your like me, you become pretty lifeless in sense of being. It becomes mechanical even thoughts and words the operation of others it’s pretty absurd.

Perhaps it all predetermined I can almost tell as I write these words they just seem to come out.

It’s all ■■■■■■■ over, I don’t know what to do. But I’ll keep breathing it’ll get me through.

I grow numb in almost every sense. They worn me out and shut me down.

I only hope the noise will stop, I only these days wi be forgot.

Something to say about spirituality, but try as I might it makes no sense to me.

Good luck people with the sz
Your all I have left for company

4

Thanks ekoms glad to hear from you.

1 Like
5

I’m so sorry you have been having to fight this. You sound a bit more tired today.

I hope you get a chance to recharge soon.

From the poem… am I detecting frustration and numb anger? It’s very visceral… I like it. At the same time… I’m sorry your having to fight so hard.

I do hope getting this siphoned out of the mind helps bring you peace.

I do find… sometimes just getting it out of my head helps me let it go.

good luck and I’m rooting for you.

1 Like
6

Thanks J, yeah rough day. It’s all so ■■■■■■■ real. For some reason I’m totally exhausted and I don’t know how to move forward. These voices and messages are the most perfectly toxic thing for me.

7

Sorry to hear that. I wish I had a great idea that would bring you some relief. But it sounds like one of those days you just have to claw through the best you can.

From the poem I’m getting a sense of stress and numbness… I hate those days. I used to end up back in bed, in a bad mood, hating myself for not moving forward.

I hope this passes for you soon. I hope a small pleasure comes your way. Just something that eases the rust brown.

1 Like
8

It will eventually. Right now I just want to sleep.

1 Like
9

Sleep well…OO

1 Like