Mental illness Poems
Schizophrenia
by Beth Johnson
I’ve got so many voices inside my head,
my Schizophrenia’s keeping them fed,
I’m starting to feel lost within myself,
think I’m turning into someone else.
I’m always planning my escape,
before my brain can escalate.
“I can’t find it,
......
The Room
by Sarah A
Haunted by the ghost
of the girl who once lived there,
The Room was a graveyard
of her bottomless despair.
Funnily enough,
The Room once kept her alive.
She couldn’t let them see her secrets;
she must survive.
......
Intrusive Thoughts
by Falling Awake
Distressing thoughts
that cut into life’s flow,
Are piercing through
the everyday pauses.
Coming on abruptly incongruent,
Feeling so extrinsic and unforeseen,
Their circuits loop around insistently.
As the thoughts intensify,
......
home alone on the holidays
by Sarah A
Never hungry and never satisfied
I don’t know where to run
But I know where to hide
Past midnight wishing on the--
Is that a star or
a satellite? At
least the moon will always be bright.
Lonesome on a December night,
......
Anhedonia
by David Hoover
Lifeless, tasteless, emotionless.
A world without color.
No will to survive.
A shell of the man I once was.
Going through the motions everyday.
A machine without a purpose.
No will, no drive, just endless mechanical movement.
That which I used to strive for seems pointless.
Entertaining hobbies have become nothing more than dull habits.
Nothing to look forward to.
......
white sparkling wine
by Ella Sophia
poor girl keeps getting haunted
deep in mind , she’ll done be screaming
all words rushed down throat
throughout left and above , nothing made sense
jostled yet stayed
pinned up against all crosses ;
she’ll be living solely in delusion
fantasy at twenties , be fearless they say ,
here in square-tinted blue room
one knees bent crying it all-out confines of
......
cigarettes and blueberries ; palace and princesses
by Ella Sophia
i want to smell like berries
not the cigarettes that i inhale
nor the rotting flesh of my skin
i want to look whimsical
like the pretty disney princesses
all locked up inside a dreamy palace
i want to be charmed upon
not lusted
......
butter orange paste
by Ella Sophia
the substance tasted sour though as if there’s one who had the chance to have a taste of it .
i can feel pretty . at times , i wonder how it would be like to live a life without worrying about how you look when people try to see your entirety behind their own eyes . i imagine a life of one with no such concern about the time they’ll spend just to blend with other bodies — moving around town . i manage to understand what fits me ; the angle that i must calculate for every picture taken by soul without comparable life , the things that i can waste my time on by doing just to feel normal like the rest .
how can i own up to every spoiled matter that consumed me when i was still living the life i used to own ? must i continue to wonder how comparing everything leads to ruining what image actually exists ? or just to pick up the threads and be whatever i was molded in to be ?
Autopilot
by Falling Awake
It seems I don't know quite how to respond,
To the pain present, within and beyond,
So, my subconscious defaults to the lead,
With habitual patterns, I proceed…
Reliant on instincts and emotions,
These primal pathways take me through motions,
Now I’m acting rash, values misaligned,
Hurting loved ones in this stressed frame of mind,
All because I’m unable to pacify,
My cortex, drenched in stimuli.
......
Oranges
by Megan Claridge
His teacher thinks he should write poems
but he missed the last bus and
don’t know what to say
And he spoke to her for the first time in a year
but she didn’t ask him any questions
so he peeled his orange skin
And the pictures kept falling down
so he kept putting them back up
but they ripped a little more each time
And he started going to sleep without them
......
