Circles

reclusive child with elaborate imagination and maladaptive daydreaming to plural teenager who doesn’t identify with thier own body anymore pipeline is unfortunatelg real

Nature

If I were to choose how I am

If I were on the outside how I am inside

I’d be something feral

I’d be something beautiful.

I’d be something unrecognisable

And I’d be something new.

I’d be sharp and I’d be deadly

I’d be a rose made only of thorns.

If I could be something natural

I would be something feral

I’d be something beautiful

I’d rip myself apart and build myself back up.

I’d be something painful 

I’d be something to be feared.

If I were a mirror of how I feel

I’d become something new

Something natural

Something feral

I’d be a river that nobody crosses.

I’d be dangerous and I’d be violent

I’d be myself and no one else.

gUYS WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN. I have like. 5 posts. How is this a year old. what.

Fear, Part II

Is there a reason

You feel so alone

With all these people

Surrounding you?

The sun is shining

And the birds are out

Summer air against your skin

But it’s still winter inside.

You’re locked in a cage

Made up of your mind

The monsters are out

And they won’t rest.

Put on a smile

Don’t let them see

How many cracks

You have burning inside.

You can take another day

And your lungs will keep on moving

So focus on happy thoughts

And you’ll be fine.

But now the winter air is biting deep

And it’s getting hard to breathe

Through all this falling snow

And the beasts hunting you.

You’re pounding against the bars

In this cage you’ve made in your brain

But the howling wind and the blanket of snow

Are melding together and leaving you treading

This deepening water

An ocean of silence

That swallows your screams.

Take a deep breath

And paste the smile back on.

Focus on the happy thoughts

And take another pill.

If nobody wants to hear your words

That’s alright, you’ll be fine

Keep your mouth shut, you know,

Conform and don’t be crazy-

Others have it worse anyways.

You don’t remember when

Those pills began to stop

And now your heartbeat is racing

From the killers in your head.

It’s all so much

And now you must be insane

Because nobody else says a word

About suffering like this.

Your mask is far too much

A weight you can’t remove

You’re a bird with clipped wings

A flower with no stem.

You’re chained up in your own mind

Gagged by your own fear

Pills by the handful

Just to feel alive.

Time is fading to a fuzzy haze

The only constant this endless nightmare.

You just want to smile again

You just want to feel whole again!

Cause and effect but this is effect without a reason

What’s the cause, what’s the root

Of this sickened tree?

They ask if you’re afraid of death

Chastise you for these reckless thoughts

And tell you to just grow up.

So how do you tell them

That you’re not afraid of death anymore?

The hell in your head

Is so much worse

Than any hell a religion could offer.

You’re not afraid of the reaper

Or any judgmental god

You’re afraid

Of this life.

Silence is a blade

Cutting your skin

But words make the cuts

Sink all the deeper still.

Anything to end this pain

Anything to cut the chains

Holding you hostage to the demons inside

If heaven is real that’s not where you’ll go

Because this pit can’t be climbed out of

The walls are too sharp

And trying only broke your will.

Every moment of this hell

Is too much, it’s a crushing weight

Anything at all

To end this pain.

Life isn’t fair

And god, don’t you know it

You’re so tired

And the waters are deep

So maybe it’s time

To set you free.

A painful light

A burning fire

Heart alight

With one desire

I burn for you

Like a funeral pyre.

Can you be

what I require,

Or shall we dance

Till I expire?

developing your ocs is 50% waiting for bursts of divine inspiration like an oracle sleeping next the vapours seeping from fissures in the temple floor and 50% stalking them in your mind relentlessly like a persistence predator until they tire out enough for you to get close and scamper away with the bloody scraps of "eye colour: brown" and "dislikes: people who think they're funny" clutched in your mouth like a hunting trophy

guys. I can't tone.

Sleep

Now I lay me down to sleep

But Gods, don’t keep my soul

For the broken thing has no more fight-

No hope remains with me.

So let me lay myself to sleep-

To shut my eyes and miss the dawn.

Let me rest here till I am missed

And then after, with the earth.

I’d much rather go to sleep

And not wake to see the sun

Than to stay awake and see me fail

Yet again, yet again, yet again.

Dogmoding at school rn 🐺

WOOF!

this hurts my soul in indescribable ways

a writing competition i was going to participate in again this year has announced that they now allow AI generated content to be submitted

their reasoning being that "we couldn't ban it even if we wanted to, every writer already uses it anyway"

"Every writer"?

come on