Nothing

It’s not nothing just trauma theory that creeps inside I can’t perceive what’s really happening to me because I can’t distinguish anxiety from reality.

This is what happens

Now I can’t cope. I am feeling anxious, excited (and not in a good way) and I feel like people are ignoring me. I’m trying to rationalise it out, growing desperate and realising I have no way to control myself so long as my phone remains on. So by switching off the phone I regain a measure of control but I still feel panicked. Over nothing.

Nothing.

Frustrating as hell

The most frustrating thing about today is that I am annoyed with myself.

I missed yoga because I drank too much last night, zoned out at the bus stop because my voices are so damn loud and I missed the bus. I’m pretty sure it should have stopped but it zoomed on by.

I want the comfort of a hug but I don’t want to bring anyone down.

Perhaps I should eat something.

No take-backs

I want to eat the words that so gracefully vomit out of my mind and through this vicious hole I call a mouth sometimes/ I’ve been hurting for so long I only know how to hurt/ Every bruise feels like an open wound and that’s when I pull out my gun

Not like yours, loaded with desire, but bitterness and anger when I listen to voices that conspire with me to doubt myself and good intentions and my first defence is a last resort

(So pleased with my words and the construction of sentences I forget that my audience has thoughts, feelings and senses)

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Just a feeling

I just have this unshakeable feeling I’m being watched, or monitored, or tracked or something.

I can’t get rid of it.

It’s from things my voices talk about, and the fact that I thought I saw someone from years back (albeit, it was unlikely to be them, much skinnier and older looking, perhaps) and I would actually ask someone but I’m afraid of looking stupid, because the people I would ask either I don’t feel comfortable being that vulnerable with or I don’t trust, or a little of both.

Sigh.

Paranoia. Go away.

I know I would feel better if I talked it out with someone…

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Ever-changing

Like a ship with every beam replaced
We change the inside, perhaps the face
People do not stay the same
Even when we keep our name

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In case this worries…

…this burst of creativity is nothing to worry about. I’m a little frustrated because I’d like some peace and quiet, but I’ve been going to hot yoga or something every day for a few days now, so the aches and pains are just causing my voices to misbehave.

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Shadow

Indecision, seems I’m living
Trapped between a world or three
Suffocate, suffocate
Desecrate, annihilate

Burn to ashes, make a paste
And paint a shadow from the waste

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Pandemonium

Bright lights and eye-liner
In their eyes she never looked finer
Never seemed better, never looked fitter
Looks can deceive and you might miss her

Inability to string a sentence, for boredom
In reality it’s more than
That, because she’s struggling
To pacify the endless pandemonium

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Distraction

Distraction, distraction, constant distraction
An antidote to poems she wrote
And all the voices in my head

Distraction, distraction, constant distraction
Take away the rehashed day
Leave me be
Put me to bed

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