16+ (bad language) and TW! A spoken word poem on mental health and depression, and about being a teenager nowadays. Thank you for reading! <3
A story based on truth.
A story of suffering.
And one absolutely filled to the brim with crying.
ℭ𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔐𝔬𝔬𝔫// Virelai nouveau written in alexandrins.
𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐲 ’𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐮𝐥’𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭’...
#9 in my Phobia Series. A poem inspired by a book and about 'metathesiophobia'. Thank you for reading. <3
For poetrybattles round 4. The POV of Susannah from the movie "Brain On Fire". Based off a true story
A tale about an auld veteran struggling to come to terms with his participation in war, questioning its very purpose.
About my experience (today) with HPD and basically the 13 years before that.
A regretful poem, written by a dying patient who didn't take enough care for his health.
I still roam these streets. but I can't find you in our old home. There is no one behind the window any longer.
We are not weak, us who are mentally ill, though some think so.
<3 (this is probably the longest poem I've ever written:79 pages btw) when I was at the age of 7 to 11 I had an eating disorder which affected my life badly
Hospital beds were not made to provide comfort, I first thought when I visited many months ago. (A short story on today's prompt: unbreakable and cancer patients. Again, another sad read. )
16+ (bad language) and TW! A spoken word poem on mental health and depression, and about being a teenager nowadays. Thank you for reading! <3
A story based on truth.
A story of suffering.
And one absolutely filled to the brim with crying.
ℭ𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔐𝔬𝔬𝔫// Virelai nouveau written in alexandrins.
𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐲 ’𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐮𝐥’𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭’...
#9 in my Phobia Series. A poem inspired by a book and about 'metathesiophobia'. Thank you for reading. <3
For poetrybattles round 4. The POV of Susannah from the movie "Brain On Fire". Based off a true story
A tale about an auld veteran struggling to come to terms with his participation in war, questioning its very purpose.
About my experience (today) with HPD and basically the 13 years before that.
A regretful poem, written by a dying patient who didn't take enough care for his health.
I still roam these streets. but I can't find you in our old home. There is no one behind the window any longer.
We are not weak, us who are mentally ill, though some think so.
<3 (this is probably the longest poem I've ever written:79 pages btw) when I was at the age of 7 to 11 I had an eating disorder which affected my life badly
Hospital beds were not made to provide comfort, I first thought when I visited many months ago. (A short story on today's prompt: unbreakable and cancer patients. Again, another sad read. )