Best Mentalhealth Poems
My biggest flaw
Is that I love
I love with my whole heart
I love everyone
I love the world
As much as I'll ever love anything
I suppose my flaw is not that I love
It is that I love what does not love me
And as such
I find it difficult
To love myself
But still I love
Thousands of students of decades
Across the nation,
Have loads of issues with grades
And lack of motivation.
A retention to learning,
With parents calling
And graduation rates falling.
It's beginning to be so concerning,
That teachers even notice,
These kids aren't learning.
The propositions the school has given,
Halted the adults' beliefs they thought they knew.
School psychologist’s are anything but driven,
And their inadequate solutions are simply untrue.
The great idea has bestowed upon me,
And this hypothesis has been churning.
Without concern for the students I can see,
This will prove the best of your earning.
A new substance has reached the market,
That will prove me right.
LSD, Cocaine, and Meth will hit the target,
So cook with all your might.
Gracious children run freely in the halls
Now happy and cherishing all their liberty,
Can finally succeed and jump off the walls.
The teens will finally use all of their ability,
If you even have the balls.
Their improved grades are a certain probability
All until the last one falls.
All Quiet On The Frontal Lobes
A battle was fought: his Medulla oblongata versus an electrical socket.
The electrical appliance distributors made a racket. So did his screams.
But its pure, scientifically certified - who am I to besmirch and mock it ?
From now on his ol' rumbustious spirit won't be harbouring q.u.e.e.r. memes.
It'll be pliant, malleable, ductile. The vibrant brio, fizz of magnetic emotion,
Will have dissipated with the deafening circuit of cerebral electrocution.
They'll be no more fuss, no mayhem from his once truculent warrior soul;
The trenches are filled with the fallen, but walking graves no longer howl.
No longer empty,
An abundance lies in me,
So much poetry;
4:09:05
A familiar time which plays on repeat in my mind
Get the opposite of high, but I don’t know why
Cutting pounds but not just my weight
I’m not trying to over-exaggerate
But I think it’s time to say goodbye.
Being alone isn’t the same as feeling it
I just wanna stop, I just wanna quit
They say all it takes is just a call
Down the rabbit hole you fall
Running down an empty hall
I cant seem to recall
If it’s really worth it all
Looking out the window, all
I hear is a loud rainfall
Beats me staring at a wall
Or downing pints of alcohol
Not afraid for if i fall
The flowers I’ll receive by haul
I’ll feel better overall
4:09:05 is my call
A million stumbles, a million falls,
A heart that falters, a spirit calls.
I fight the darkness, claw at the light,
Though shadows cling with all their might.
Don't count the failures, the bruises deep,
The battles lost where sorrows weep.
See the flicker, the spark within,
The restless yearning, the fight to win.
I stumble often, I lose my way,
The path is tangled, the future gray.
But still I rise, with weary grace,
To face the dawn, to find my place.
So please, dear friend, don't turn away,
Don't judge the struggle, the fading day.
Don't let the darkness claim my soul,
Believe in me and make me whole.
For though I falter, I will not yield,
My spirit's fire will not be sealed.
Don't give up on me, hold fast your hand,
And watch me rise upon this shifting sand.
To my friends or family members who have close one fighting against mental health or drug abduction.)
2024
Lately I’ve been Fighting DemoNs
For what seems like no reason
Kick me out like I’m a heathen
You broke my heart, now that’s treason
You were my only reason
To wake up in the morning
But then one day you left without a warning
I knew I’d end up all alone
All these nights calling ur phone
I don’t know where to go
I just wanted to grow
Said that you loved me
But at my funeral ur a no show
That’s the sad reality
Of living carefree
Devil at my door, I’m yelling out spare me
Lately I’ve been Fighting DemoNs
For what seems like no reason
Kick me out like I’m a heathen
You broke my heart, now that’s treason
You were my only reason
To wake up in the morning
But then one day you left without a warning
When I am up, every sky is a boundless, cloudless expanse of brilliantly blinding blue.
When I am up, I am William the Conqueror and William Shakespeare and William Jennings Bryan all in one.
When I am up, life is an eternity of perfect days punctuated by soul-shaking truths at every turn.
When I am up, every person I meet is a fount of infinite expectations.
When I am up, my momentous happiness is so moment-to-moment that if I look away for but an instant I might miss it all.
When I am up, I cannot turn away. I am a moth to the flame. I am Icarus. I am entranced by my own fire’s burning ballet. I am ablaze.
When I am up, I feel the gravity of every instant, weighing me down with the weight of it all as I struggle not to fall back to reality.
When I am up, I am alone. I am adrift on my sea of ideas?—?in search of my white whale, trying to stay within the white lines, staring into the glaring white light?—?without hope of rescue.
When I am up, I must come down…
-- by ThoughtsFromB4
"just something I wrote to better explain my bipolar poles"
I dived into the cauldron of magic potion and transformed into the person who I was.ME !
The Me that was missing pieces that felt so deeply about things.
The Me that had that innocence of a child ,who looked at everything in life with amazement and marveled at the wonders of life.
The Me who lived with the Magic that life is to be savored and lived for each moment.
The ME who appreciated the little things in life and believed that the world is a beautiful place full of wonders and so much possibilities.
Before I dived into that Magic potion I was in a dark place.
I felt dead inside ,the Magic was gone
It seize to exist. My heart stopped beating
I was numb,I could feel anymore
I dived into the cauldron of magic potion to be "Reborn"
To become Me
My demons, I see,
Though they are quiet
But are never silenced
They still want to riot.
Some of the demons leave me,
So, it's quiet in my head
Some of them travel with me
Yet, they roam inside me, dead.
I'm sure they'll always be around,
In my darknesses, I want to sleep
They want to pull me, tied-up into
My abyss, deep in the steep.
Release me demonic spirits, I quake,
And lead me only to an endless solitude
So I can rest from the exhaustion
Your evils cause, then wants to take.
Fleeing, setting me free from your distractions,
You're this chaos, that's causing me to dread my life
With the unsettledness lurking, stirring around inside
I find myself dead, having no more strife.
I celebrated my father's birthday this last April 4th, 2025
He would have been 75,
Yet 7 years ago, a white butterfly laid him to rest, with the rest of his family around his casket,
And my face playing masquerade among the living corpses giving me their condolences,
Not of any fault of their own,
Just that, my own brokenness could never be seen,
And between the layers of tears that covered my mother's face,
I knew,
I must be the one to carry this family's weight.
That was my state of mind back when we laid my father to rest,
Amidst the cries of those who grieved, and the white butterfly who rested its wings on the polished crimson wood.
That's what I believed would keep my family functional.
And it worked, for a season, by the grace of God, I felt His hand cocoon me from the demons that laid wait to weaken and ruin me.
And then it left - that beaconing presence that suppressed depressed presences within my soul,
Setting demons free once under control
And lessons once freeing felt stifling under the boulders that now crushed them.
I could no longer carry the weight I once bore,
Yet my stubborn spirit refused to let it go,
As if I insisted on doing 4 sets of 100 when I could only do 2 sets of 50
And I got hurt.
When we laid my father to rest, a white butterfly flew by my mother's face, and rested on his casket.
Yesterday I learned that butterflies rest during rainfall to protect their wings from damage.
Could it be,
A message spoken so subtly,
Softly whispering between the gentle flutters of each wing:
Sometimes seasons call for rest, and
OUR wings must rest.
OUR bodies must calm
And our minds need to decompress
From the raging waters within
And that's okay,
For it's just for a season,
Just as tulips shed their petals, and slowly wither into winter's cold, hard ground, they'll soon bloom again when spring finds its way around,
So, there is no shame in resting our wings,
For these are the very seasons God Himself gave His life for - the life that resolved impossible demands,
Through a love fixated on bringing me home through every season,
And He sent a white butterfly to remind me He is my reason to rest.
Mental illness is simply like an open box,
Filled with expressions of beauty.
With letters of love and symbols of color,
Overflowing with emotional passion.
Not a basket, but a box.
We're just like you, but never closed.
She never got spoon-fed and started licking off the knives
But knives cut her tongue
Her home is in the white spaces but not the words
You claim to know the flower, but do you know its pollen grains?
"You are fit so get over it", they said
"Don't be a drama queen", they said
But are they aware of her prison, the ball and a chain
They hear the dialogue but not the disclaimers
Found comfort in the storm,
She vented and vents went into other rooms
The plate was half empty and still, people beseeched for food
She's breathing with a plastic bag over her head
Was the oil in the water
Cooked the dinner and washed the dishes
Watered the dead flowers in the hope of a garden
A champagne bottle shaken up by her thoughts
Allergic to her image
Toiled to find her Antony to Cleopatra but found Lago instead
In a toxic relationship with an emotionally unavailable Man
When people got a new phone, they tossed the old one
Darkness lurked behind, consuming part by part every day
She reread the novels in the hope of a different ending
She was the butterfly which never saw her wings
She's sinking in quicksand with a heart attack and people claim to help her when they are just 3 feet away,
How many times has she failed to pull the trigger and used a pen instead,
Sat on the bathroom floor holding a shiny way out, painted lines on her shoulders, crimson magic flowing
Her lips perfectly parted and her eyes glittered with her tears
That's right, you don't know this so do you even know her at all?
Pace and Pace
Till the room fades
Till the faces appear
and you're finally safe
Pace and Pace
Till the time passes by
Till the world is right
and it's finally mine
Sometimes living feels like a chore
One I don't want to do
But there are reasons
For which I persist.
When my dog wags her tail when I say her name
To get to see my nephew grow old
Long walks in the woods with the people I love
Seeing people smile
New music
Old music
Conversations about nothing with people
I've never met
And will never see again
Late night chats with friends
Who I will hold for a lifetime
To love
To be loved.
All of these
I live for
Even when I'd rather not