Concussions feel like a biologic metaphor for mental illness
It literally boils down to a bruised brain,
How is that not a poetic description of mental illness?
And it comes with some damn similar side effects
I managed to bruise my brain at a roadside attraction
A place called South of the Border,
Smack dab between North and South Carolina
Yeah, yeah it's a clever play on words.
I can tell you right where I was when all of this started
I was hoisting myself onto the back of a jackalope
No this is still not a metaphor
It was a concrete animal meant for children.
And that is where the trouble began,
You see, I am not in fact a child.
My 5
How often do you think about it really?
How aware are you of the space between you and the boy to your left?
Because I know there are 4 steps between us. Just enough room that if I had a clear path I could still get away.
There are 3 exits here and I know where they all are.
One is over my left shoulder the other two are in my line of sight, this was not an accident.
I have counted how many times his eyes wandered my way and I know I am probably being paranoid but god help me if he tries to talk
I put my music up and look anywhere else.
You are twenty years old when you start to consider yourself recovered.
It has been a year since you sel
I am in a room filled with my peers
We are all wanna-be-scientists,
I don't want to be in this room, at this table,
But I was asked and I intend to be present.
Twenty minutes into the meeting
We are asked to speak about our experiences,
My heart rate doubles, I can feel it pounding
I do not want to speak,
It's not totally about the people,
It's about the subject,
About the failure.
"Mellissa you go first, then Kristin."
That's me, I'm second
I almost get up,
Almost go to the bathroom.
I try to breathe,
I try to say I am grown up and will shoulder this responsibility
It is my turn and I am talking
I am telling of how disappointing the expe
It is late at night. You are sitting next to me.
Every guard is lowered by the lack of eye contact.
My eyes stay on the winding double yellow.
Your pupils dance in the ghost reflections on the windows
Your watching the world rush past as you listen.
I feel like I can breath, even with all the powerful words bouncing around.
There is more space in this car than in most friendships.
I have turned down the heavy bass laced soundtrack,
And spent the last ten minutes relaying stories.
Not everything I say is the happiness I show others
But I am bragging that I am some kind of healthy.
When I am calm and emptied of the darkness
that's been clawin
Maybe I am not your weakness.
But at 2am when I am empty
And feeling alone.
You are mine.
I long for the comfort of a human
Of your warm body close to my skin
I close my eyes and imagine
Your controlled breathing
You act as if any sudden movements
Will send me flying out of bed
And far away from that warm little room.
I want you to know
I don't scare easy.
Among all the whispers
I want to hear you say goodnight
And hear all the other voices
Go absoltely silent
Tonight at 2am
I want the peace
Your presence brings.
You used to stomp around the house as if your feet were made of lead
As if the floorboards had done you some awful wrong and needed punishing
I used to giggle to myself in the dead of the night because I always knew where you were
Some kind of comfort found in the promise that you were five loud steps away
Now at night I hear the floors creak and moan as if recovering from the bruises you inflicted
It’s so quiet now, I tiptoe to the bathroom and sigh because for some reason
My feet have always seemed nimble compared to yours, will I not leave a mark on this world?
I wonder if the floorboards are happy you left
At least then someone wou
Concussions feel like a biologic metaphor for mental illness
It literally boils down to a bruised brain,
How is that not a poetic description of mental illness?
And it comes with some damn similar side effects
I managed to bruise my brain at a roadside attraction
A place called South of the Border,
Smack dab between North and South Carolina
Yeah, yeah it's a clever play on words.
I can tell you right where I was when all of this started
I was hoisting myself onto the back of a jackalope
No this is still not a metaphor
It was a concrete animal meant for children.
And that is where the trouble began,
You see, I am not in fact a child.
My 5
How often do you think about it really?
How aware are you of the space between you and the boy to your left?
Because I know there are 4 steps between us. Just enough room that if I had a clear path I could still get away.
There are 3 exits here and I know where they all are.
One is over my left shoulder the other two are in my line of sight, this was not an accident.
I have counted how many times his eyes wandered my way and I know I am probably being paranoid but god help me if he tries to talk
I put my music up and look anywhere else.
You are twenty years old when you start to consider yourself recovered.
It has been a year since you sel
I am in a room filled with my peers
We are all wanna-be-scientists,
I don't want to be in this room, at this table,
But I was asked and I intend to be present.
Twenty minutes into the meeting
We are asked to speak about our experiences,
My heart rate doubles, I can feel it pounding
I do not want to speak,
It's not totally about the people,
It's about the subject,
About the failure.
"Mellissa you go first, then Kristin."
That's me, I'm second
I almost get up,
Almost go to the bathroom.
I try to breathe,
I try to say I am grown up and will shoulder this responsibility
It is my turn and I am talking
I am telling of how disappointing the expe
It is late at night. You are sitting next to me.
Every guard is lowered by the lack of eye contact.
My eyes stay on the winding double yellow.
Your pupils dance in the ghost reflections on the windows
Your watching the world rush past as you listen.
I feel like I can breath, even with all the powerful words bouncing around.
There is more space in this car than in most friendships.
I have turned down the heavy bass laced soundtrack,
And spent the last ten minutes relaying stories.
Not everything I say is the happiness I show others
But I am bragging that I am some kind of healthy.
When I am calm and emptied of the darkness
that's been clawin
Maybe I am not your weakness.
But at 2am when I am empty
And feeling alone.
You are mine.
I long for the comfort of a human
Of your warm body close to my skin
I close my eyes and imagine
Your controlled breathing
You act as if any sudden movements
Will send me flying out of bed
And far away from that warm little room.
I want you to know
I don't scare easy.
Among all the whispers
I want to hear you say goodnight
And hear all the other voices
Go absoltely silent
Tonight at 2am
I want the peace
Your presence brings.
You used to stomp around the house as if your feet were made of lead
As if the floorboards had done you some awful wrong and needed punishing
I used to giggle to myself in the dead of the night because I always knew where you were
Some kind of comfort found in the promise that you were five loud steps away
Now at night I hear the floors creak and moan as if recovering from the bruises you inflicted
It’s so quiet now, I tiptoe to the bathroom and sigh because for some reason
My feet have always seemed nimble compared to yours, will I not leave a mark on this world?
I wonder if the floorboards are happy you left
At least then someone wou
Alone
Gracious solitude.
Wandering the labyrinth of my mind.
Discovering dark, damp corners,
I never knew existed.
Adapting to the dark
Thriving in the lonely stillness
Damned to walk forever, alone.
Light cascading
flashes like windows in a tunnel.
A face appears
friendly and smiling.
The kind of smile you must return.
Soft, gentle arms
drawing me out of the dungeon
I had inhabited so long
I had forgotten how to escape.
Living In Light: The Broken S by kml91225, literature
Literature
Living In Light: The Broken S
Living in light,
constantly threatened
by encroaching shadows.
Their long spindly fingers
Reaching for me
Beckoning me back to them.
Hard to ignore their strong, begging cries.
My defience only makes them determind.
Every once in a while...
I'll wander too close to the edge
Tempting danger, flirting with darkness.
I'll get too deep and I'll
s d i t d
l o n h a
i w t e r
Falling: The Broken Series by kml91225, literature
Literature
Falling: The Broken Series
There's nothing to hold onto here,
Just an eternal free fall.
Echoes reverberating forever in every direction.
Darkness completly englufs me.
I scream trying to explain...
It wasn't my fault this time
I'm not the one they want
I'm needed up top.
For once I can blame my solitary confinement
on someone else, yet it's not right.
This is still my fault.
My fault for ever trying to see the light.
For ever trying to live up top
Believing what I had might be perfect.
I'm here only because I believed I had a chance.
Flawless: The Broken Series by kml91225, literature
Literature
Flawless: The Broken Series
I believed what I had was perfect.
From a distance it seems true
but follow me, take a step closer.
Scratched, on the surface
doesn't even start the story.
Take another step.
Now you can see the cracks
Starting to crumble.
One step closer.
Missing pieces,
chunks long since removed.
Just one more step, don't be scared.
See it, can you see it now?
The threads just barely keeping it together
Threatening to fall apart any minute.
That's what I thought was perfect.
Stay with me, help me keep it together.
No matter how much I beg
Down on my knees
No one will stay.
No matter how hard I try
to make them understand
they always run away.
Or they can't see it
How?
How can you not see?
Why am I the only one who notices?
The only one who cares?
Why is it me?
Tell me,
what have I done,
to be condemned to the dark?
To have to watch them suffer.
Why must I see?
Give me ignorance, like the rest.
I beg.
The Secret: The Broken Series by kml91225, literature
Literature
The Secret: The Broken Series
Dragged,
Kicking and screaming,
to the shadows.
It would seem,
I'm meant to be here
forever away from the light.
After a while the struggling stops
I've become accustom to the dark
No one wants me to leave here.
Why fight?
I slip back accepting my fate.
You can let go of my arms now.
I won't run.
I'll never escape.
I've tried,
The secret is..... not to.
Let's go back to
the crumbling figure
for I'm not alone here, like I thought.
I share this dark with one other
The one I thought was saving me.
Gently I reach out and touch him.
I trace the missing parts
Run my hands over the broken body
Covered in cracks, cuts, scars, bruises, it's surprisingly soft.
I lean into the barely together person
He's been here too long, in the dark.
Softly, through the cracks and holes
Comes a light, starting dim and growing.
It illuminates our faces.
He's looking at me and smiling.
Saving Me:The Broken Series by kml91225, literature
Literature
Saving Me:The Broken Series
In the light from him I look down
at myself
Every one of my flaws is visible
Fear over takes me
He's going to run now
Leave me like all the others
Because I'm not prefect.
Gently, he leans down
Softly, he whispers "I'm never going to leave you."
My scars, cuts, and bruises illuminate
He's drawing out my light
And lending me his own
He's saving me.
I'm saving him
Together we will make it through the dark
We'll live in our own light.
Our journey is far
from over
but together
We will battle the dark
for a chance to live in the light.
With each other
We will NEVER be alone.
We'll hold each other together.
We'll make it through
the darkness
We will never slip and fall
throught the abiss back down to the dark
Together we are
Flawless our broken parts are beautiful.
We no longer have to beg
For other to help us.
We can forget the secrets
and lies. The bonds we had with the dark.
We will live in Our Light
Together.
Not Alone:The Broken Series by kml91225, literature
Literature
Not Alone:The Broken Series
On the road together now
but...It's not just any road.
It's steep,
covered in debris and holes.
One wrong step
is all it would take
to send me back to free fall in the dark.
This time I'm not alone.
I would never make it by myself,
but...
Every time I trip,
he grabs me and holds me up.
Every time I stray,
he leads me back to the path.
I do the same for him
and this time I'm certain,
We'll make it.
For this time we are Not Alone.
Affect, Skittish, Schizophrenia by Rosary0fSighs, literature
Literature
Affect, Skittish, Schizophrenia
Schizophrenia; a splitting of the mind. A snow globe that shattered, splintered, razor sharp glass breaking into shards.
Bipolar; two sides. Shifting sands. Extremes, chaos, pain, nerve endings white hot with blue flames of agony. Two poles, two hemispheres. One fathomless and dark, one burning with the liquid magma sun light of galaxies inside my bones, burning up into a black hole, eating itself alive.
Brain; two halves. Long division of two lobes, one soft pink globe, split through the centre.
Night and day, day and night.
One zygote that divided into twins; her, and I. I first split in the womb. I’ve been splitting my whole life
For all who call us different
Freaks
Troubled
Insane
Useless
Hopeless
Unloved
I tell them to back off
As I support my scars
The burden and convenience
To be one left alone
To be befriended by those who understand
To be pulled down to darkness
With others joining around
Their scars held high
We've heard it before
"Why live at all?" We are asked
With the retort; "Why do you?"
I have seen the highest peaks, and the darkest depths of a life worth living.
Wait your turn, you will experience the pain shown on our tattered skin
You will cry out for a companion, and we will leave you be
To leave you in darkness, as we step towards the dawn
Our sca
Let me tell you a story. by starsinthenightsky79, literature
Literature
Let me tell you a story.
Once upon a time
alone was a place I fell
bones hitting on every step
bruises under my eyes
bloody bracelets rotting away.
Once upon a time
I was Wendy without my Lost Boys
searching for Neverland
lost in translation
and spinning.
Once upon a time
the sunset was a battle call
to my own civil war
fighting against broken lungs
losing on both sides.
Once upon a time
the mirror was my poison
forcing up half chewed meals
and no, thanks,
I’m not hungry.
Once upon a time
I was lost.
But once upon a time
I found them.
And now
I am never alone walking the streets in my mind.
Now
I have a map to Mars and back (it turns out Neverland was
I used to think of death as something
dark and distant,
immeasurably far away
and hopelessly deep.
now that it is upon me, weighing heavily
in the caverns of my mouth,
it is the easiest decision I've
ever made, the easiest thing
I've ever swallowed.
the fact that I failed is an
irrelevant detail:
I have snapped a string,
I have deviated farther,
(closer).
I am two-fifths dead
and one-fifth cold
already.
"It's in these tangled thoughts
I swear", I holler as I dig.
It was here, everything I wanted to say.
My words never form fast enough
Then the thought slips away.
Please tell me that you'll stay.
Be patient as I try to sort things out.
Give me a minute before I start.
Or it will all be a rushed ramble
Were nothing at all makes sense.
Please give me a moment because,
I had a list of things to say.
Now-a-days it seems as if,
If I don't write it down
the thoughts and words accompanying them
will flee.
Faster than wild birds set free.
I never know how to start.
I tip toe around you,
Because I don't know what to say.
How to
I'm barely ever on here anymore but I noticed that I haven't updated this in 3 years because my age was WAY off. Hello I'm Kristin. I am currently an EMT working for an ambulance company and I love it. Also a part time student getting my pre-recs done for nursing school but still considering other options. I just accepted a new job and will work in an ER for one of the countries best hospitals. I am still with the same boyfriend of 5 years now. His name is Ryan, and I love him like crazy. I have been through a lot of things but I'm coming out of them and on the path of healing. I still write but I have less of a need to share so much of it.
Current Age: 20, Current Residence: MA, Favorite genre of music: Country, Alternitive, Hardcore, Metal, Favorite style of art: writing and poetry and photography,
Favourite Movies
Legends of The Gardians and a bunch of others
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
A Day To Remember, Asking Alexandria, too many to name
Favourite Writers
WAY too many :] (Ellen Hopkins, Laurie Halse Adnerson, Dan Brown)
I feel like I just wrote my last update but it's been over a year. I don't know how that happened.
I should probably write another update even if it feels like screaming into the abyss. That will come later.
For now, I'm kinda wondering if anyone is still out there. Would anyone want more art? I might start posting again anyway.
I'm back to writing a bit more now. I think its a lot better than my mentally ill ramblings.
Not sure anyone will even read this but hello!
So, it's been over a year since I last wrote an update. Unfortunately I can not and will not sum up a year in a journal but lets hit some highlights.
1. I passed the hardest test of my life and became a licensed life saver. I then got a job as an EMT and have been working in the Boston area for quite a while. I had one partner that was perfect in a lot of ways mostly because he taught me to stand taller and gave me the strength to bring hopeless kids to the same hospitals I had once occupied. Now my new partner is a ray of sunshine and a great friend.
2. My family has been through a lot. My si
Hey, I was wondering if I could please use some of your bloody handprint photos in a FanFiction aesthetic post of mine? I would of course credit you for them and link back to your original photographs. If you don't want them to be used, that's fine, just let me know!
I used to follow you like yearssss ago and I just found u again and nt going to lie I was pretty excited. lolol I was like 14 when I followed u at first and now I'm 19 xD
Thats awesome thank you! What was your old username? A lot has changed and I'm not on here much anymore but my writing bug is coming back and I might be posting again soon. Although it will probably be a bit different.