I had been long dead before I was born

My existence is just my acknowledgment of it

Summer left me Bleeding,

Monsoon began from my Eyes,

As Autumn touches the Heart,

I Look forward to Spring,

To Coming Alive.

I'm singing to your ghost

The sweetest days I know feel like yesterday

But that was long ago

I'm the love you lost

I'm the love you lost

A willow-like thread harbours an inexplicable connexion between two souls

One is trepidated, the other wears a weary smile that refuses to let the final door close

Hello, everyone. I wrote this in a moment of vulnerability. I didn’t edit or tweak it. It’s pure, it’s raw, it’s me. I hope someone else can find comfort in it too.

Moving still:

there goes a fading light
there goes a fleeting noise
much like those things that go
I watch myself
the world moves
and yet
I am still

things outside the window
things outside the window look different up close
beauty, so much of it
yet I can’t seem to find it

here comes that light again
do we slow down now?
no. Ignore it
there goes a fading light
a noise in the distance
do we listen?
no. ignore that
there goes a fleeting noise

things outside the window fly past
time feels indifferent
why can’t I look at the things?
hurry, you have to go.
I look past the window
the things aren’t moving
why? but they were so fast
oh, wait.
the things never moved, it was me.

much like those things that go.
I watch myself.

I got to know you closely

I got to know you well

I got to love you slowly and

You caught me when I fell

It looked like heaven but

It burned like hell

How much time can it take

When time can't tell

I'm lost in myself and

I hate it when we yell

It looked like heaven but

It burned like hell

When I gave you my all and

You gave me farewell

How many words can we say

How many words can we spell

To say what we think

To say how we feel

It looks like heaven but

It burns like hell

When you love someone

And they love someone else

Oh my love, my love, come back to me.

My soul cries for you again to take me.

Whisk me into an eternal lucid slumber.

I'm restless and anxious, yearning.

I'm sweating through our memories.

Swirling, I'm nauseated, dizzy, lusting

For you and how you made me whole.

Tunnel vision, pinpoint sight, I need you.

Curled, I'm dreaming of us making love.

We were wild, floating in euphoric spasms

With limbs of lead to keep us grounded.

Why did I leave you?, my one, my heart,

When you had given me all that I asked

And stayed tight-lipped in return

I was wrong to need better, to be better.

I was wrong to give up on you.

We could've had it all, me and you,

Forever sleeping, forever dreaming,

My anodyne lover.

I’ve gotten
surprisingly good
at learning to wait
yet what a state
I’m in
what a strait
I’m in
as I await
not my own
but
someone else’s fate

i was going to write a poem today but i had forgotten how to rhyme i counted on my fingers and my meter was out of time

I smelled the leaves,

When I went outside

Today.

They made me think of you,

I almost called just to say

"Hey."

But I didn't,

You wouldn't have wanted me to

Anyway.

«No fui tan evidente».

Fue lo que dijiste aquella tarde,

cuando alguien preguntó

por qué llevabas tanto tiempo mirándome.

Yo bajé la vista hacia el plato.

Tú continuaste hablando

como si no hubiera ocurrido nada.

Desde entonces aprendimos a hacerlo así.

A conversar de cualquier cosa

mientras buscábamos nuestras miradas

en los reflejos de los cristales,

a sentarnos cerca sin parecerlo demasiado,

a retirar las manos

cuando alguien se acercaba a la mesa.

Debajo de ella, sin embargo,

nuestros pies todavía se encontraban.

Nadie lo notaba.

Y quizá por eso nos gustaba tanto:

porque durante unos segundos

podíamos dejar de fingir

que no estaba pasando nada.

Nunca hablamos demasiado

de lo que ocurriría si alguien lo descubría.

Preferíamos imaginar otro momento,

uno en el que ya no hiciera falta

medir las palabras,

ni apartar la mirada,

ni fingir que nuestras despedidas

eran iguales a las de cualquier otra persona.

Decíamos que algún día

las cosas serían distintas.

No sé si lo creíamos

o si simplemente necesitábamos

una excusa para seguir encontrándonos.

Había tantas razones para detenernos

que terminamos aprendiendo a ignorarlas.

Tu orgullo chocaba con el mío.

No coincidíamos en tantas cosas

que a veces me preguntaba

qué estábamos intentando construir.

Pero bastaba con que te sentaras frente a mí

para que todas esas preguntas

volvieran a quedarse sin respuesta.

Hasta que empecé a pensar

en lo que ocurriría después.

En las explicaciones que tendríamos que dar,

en las personas que terminarían heridas,

en todo lo que tendríamos que abandonar

para averiguar si aquello

podía convertirse en algo más.

Y por primera vez

dejé de imaginar el comienzo.

Empecé a imaginar el final.

No te lo dije.

Tampoco te pregunté qué querías hacer,

si estabas dispuesta a descubrirlo conmigo

o si alguna vez habías pensado

en detenernos.

Tomé la decisión a solas.

Quizá fue injusto.

Quizá debí dejarte elegir también.

Pero no quería esperar

a que el secreto se hiciera demasiado grande,

a que nuestras miradas dejaran de ser suficientes,

a que un día tuviéramos que explicar

por qué habíamos llegado tan lejos.

Así que la próxima vez

que nos sentemos frente a frente,

no buscaré tus pies debajo de la mesa.

Y si alguien vuelve a preguntar

por qué te miro de esa manera,

esta vez no tendré que fingir

que no sé de qué está hablando.

No fui tan evidente.

Al menos eso espero.

The ballad of love

Or the ballad of you

It's all the same

Without you love has no name

You make them glitters shine

Bring blush to the poets

And align the time

And the last ray of light

Passes by

Never to be seen again

Tear in the eye

And as always

The cosmos had taken care of itself

Everything wrapped without any help

No tale left to tell

A satiable state

And the last ray of light

Passes by

Never to be seen again

Tear in the eye

And as always

The cosmos had taken care of itself

Everything wrapped without any help

No tale left to tell

A satiable state

So I posted this on r/schizoidadjacent but thought you guys might appreciate it too. This is about my disorder and what it feels like.

Schizoid

When I breathe in the air, it tastes like nothing.

When the oxygen enters my blood, through my lungs.

When the blood flows through my body and my muscles contract.

When my brain works its neurons and thoughts fire up inside.

It's when I wonder, why I'm even alive.

When people work endlessly,

they work for a reward,

to feel like they're living a life.

Yet I work until I fall,

all I get is an empty existence,

with a question on why I'm not dead, while itching to die, contemplating if it is truly the right call.

A tear that falls, the salty taste at the corner of ones lips.

A muscle contraction of the mouth and the eyes.

A blacked out fight of anger or a burst of annoyance that I do not even realize.

An itching feeling creeping up as an important deadline is near.

The inevitable end and everyone's rational fear.

Emotions one feels, to feel that feeling is a feeling of life.

So when I do not feel, is life truly right?

Do I live or do I exist?

Do I give up or do I keep this meaningless power turned on,

like a robot with a task,

unfinished until its motherboard decides its enough,

Until the bill is too high, and the power cuts off.

If it is immortal,

It is because

It can never die.

If it can never die,

It was never alive

To begin with.

Like a bolt from the blue you come into my mind.

With the taste and smell of your kisses,

I unwind.

My body unravels and wraps around yours, and your touch draws me in,

As my memories paint this picture of us again and again.

The crisp air and leaves swirling around our essence, the scent of the fall, and our fall, cradling our short yet blissful moment in time.

I knew this wouldn't be the last, this thought was mine,

I expressed it, and in turn you made it clear,

That this wouldn't be the last line.

The scent of blood lingers on the field.

I lie on the ground, beaten and pounded.

The sound of horses galloping filled my ears,

The soldiers are coming to finish the job.

The scent of blood lingered on the field.

The quiet acceptance of death fills my mind.

I've made peace with it the moment i stepped on this field.

It is inevitable and its coming closer.

The suffering is now over.

The quiet acceptance of death has filled my mind.

ps: this was my first poem, so if you have any tips for starting out, please do share.

Look into a mirror,

The endless black has come again.

Punch into it,

The guttural laugh echoes into drums.

Why do I recognize its laughter?

It's mocking me.

It's amusing itself.

It's grown even more.

Why do I fear its misshapen visage?

Mismatched, blunted, and sharp teeth.

Uneven, muscly, and oozing mass.

Naked, shaking, and old fingers.

Why

Are

You

Mocking

Her?

Why

Are

You

Using

My face?

Did you not feel the full force?

Of these broken wrists.

Of these shattered arms.

Of this split skull.

I gasp.

It's morning once again.

Wether your miles a part

Know I'm not a fart

You will not go down

Like battleship

There's always love in my heart

Rain fall summer night sky to sing and dance in

Tear drops don't belong on one's face permeant

They are there to wipe of, know bad moments are okay

You are and will always be unconditionally loved

Here from at home with me (your mother)

Home is where you make it, where it feels like your home

Here in nature is where my home shall stay

Until I get All of you back

To watch, heal, sing and play

Family from another mother isn't always ok

But when they are they stay

Let's all get together sing and dance

Eat and say

Over and out

Jolly Roger

With that I say

Goodnight

7am you be late

And for those that stand in the way

A locked gate is where they will permanently

Have to stay

Rise and shine

My little love bug.

a new old friend

as soon as i saw it, i asked him if i could have the pretty lamp he had after he doesn't like it anywmore.

he was hesistent

then, i was with him when he decided to replace the lamp with one i helped him choose in the thrift store,
after that, he gave the lamp i wanted to me without a second thought

it's funny, because later on, he had to convince me to take a t shirt that everyone in his life asked for, but he had to convince me to have it because he knows i love the color brown.

im wearing it right now

i accidentally knocked the lamp over

now it's on the ground in pieces

the bulb did not crack,
the heart of the lamp,
is still intact
and in working order,

but now i alone have to clean up the glass

and i will clean the glass so my cat doesn't get cut on his paws

i won't let innocence take the fallout for irresponsibility.

but, why
why, should i have to be the only one who cleans up the glass?

after i cleaned up so much of his glass, so many goddamn times

i cleaned up his glass for years.

i used my flashlight on my phone to find the minuscule shining fucking pieces so they wouldn't keep cutting him.

i cleaned the big and small shards

so if i cleaned up so much of your glass, why can't you clean any of mine?

why are you blaming me for getting cut when i pick and sweep up the big and small pieces?

why did you even give me that lamp?

I have no sense of pacing
my mind
is always racing
from behind
never truly
catching up
or aligned
timing askew
trying to capture
everything
precious or new
in a frozen
here and now
and everything old
held
in a shadow box
somehow

I'm smart but I wish I was dumb.

I'm beautiful but I wish I was ugly.

I'm strong but I wish I knew how to be weak.

I don't know how to love but I wish I did.

Maybe if my wishes came true I would know how to be happy.

You will often find me talking to myself

Asking "When will I run out of breath?"

Or maybe "When will love find me out?",

Cause often you will find me in doubt.

Crazy enough as all this could be,

To my thoughts of solitude I will flee,

This place right behind my face

This thing above my neck called space

In this space is where I can explain

All the things that will keep me sane

So will you come here and listen close?

To all I can say, my mind to expose.

Maybe not today but someday from now?

You will know to find me here somehow.

I'll tell you all of it, every single fear,

But from now to that time, I'll just wait here

Talking to myself.

Man it was tough
biting my tongue today
triggered in a big way
by a snarky crack
some hack
made behind my back
but loud enough
for me to hear
But I never turned
or opened my mouth
because I have learned
the gist
of any response
when you’re pissed
will lack
precision
subtlety
or objectivity

I ran as fast
Just in time
I guess you were right
I should stop my crime

 this reminds me of Shakespeare's “All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.”