I am writing this to you
You, whose friends and family have written off
You, who have you yourself, written off
I want to tell you
You were not born this way
With hair trigger rage
With crippling anxiety
Or just not feeling normal in any way
Written off by society
Or a DSM casualty
It was that fall down the stairs when you were three
Or at age six, falling out of a tree
You were not born this way
You have a traumatic brain injury
Categories:
dsm, health, mental illness, mystery,
Form: List
She opens the DSM-5 to page 666,
Know Thyself,
who among us is not a Beast somehow,
she's enthralled by Imperfection,
It explains the scars on her heart,
if she believed in Perfection
then she would need to accept her own nature
unequivocally,
she would have to love every part of herself,
poetry is her therapy
building puzzles her bliss
solving puzzles her passion,
she is a madwoman in the 3rd degree,
a sensational spaz
believes that she is a heroine among the herd,
starlet atop a soapbox
cavalier with her cross of crass sass,
she cares too much to be free...
searching in the trauma of souls
for her own ghost
lovestruck by the Devil's lightning
Godsmacked by the grind
listening for God to apologize,
she's exhausted by cynicism
brilliant yet bitter,
a cutthroat competitor,
frozen beauty in a flame,
she expects Life to buck her every day
a jaded girl looking for the grim,
on stormy days she sings to the static
perhaps she's waiting for the Apocalypse -
J.A.B. 2020
Categories:
dsm, wisdom,
Form: Epic
The Dark Specter by Morgana Von Ghoul (d.s.m.)
Deep in the forest black
Shadows crawl over my face
Stench and rot seeping crack
From whence did I come into this place?
Seething revenant walking quickly
Upon my back breathing deeply
Hair stands up goosebumps creeping
The dark specter grabs ahold
Hands gripping, pulling, snatching
Never knowing obscure and cold
Hang me over the pit
Hounds of hell growling
Undead fingers clawing
My flesh such an appeal
Slime and burning their acid touch
Vipers fangs bloody and dripping
The dark specter's sinister grin
Haunting the lives of ruthless men
Perchance I was one of their ilk?
Velvet legs of creatures walk upon me
Black widows spinning silk
Sharpness of light peering through
My mind is clearing
Feeling somewhat renewed
Eyes open rising up
Slithering beings deadly as nightshade
Taking on a hidden vocation
A wraith man made
King of night beasts
New leader of the macabre parade
This is my fate
The Dark Specter's trade.
Categories:
dsm, dark, death, evil, fate,
Form: Free verse
Tomorrow they tell tales
Bring back bright boyhood
Dumped deeply in dales
Forest fled for fickle food
Could you clamour clean
Till tomorrow throw them
Last lingering lines lean
We wont wait to weft them
Around ancient anxieties
Ego esconced, embattling
Dull days dead drunk deities
Some senses seared still screaming.
Categories:
dsm, imagination,
Form: Alliteration
TEACHING LEARNING
Some of my years,
Were spent counseling at risk kids.
At first they dreaded me at their door.
Anger, hurt, sadness, fear and pain.
Written all over their fresh faces.
There was one as little as four.
Each had a diagnosis, ADHD, Depression, Separation Anxiety,
And on and on, from the DSM-!V.
But all of them had one thing in common,
They hated school for a reason,
They were too ashamed to say.
They did not know how to read!
So when they tried to learn,
This always got in their way.
If you want to make a difference,
That will echo through the years,
Long after you are gone away.
Find a kid who needs your help,
And teach that child how to read!
You will be astonished,
At just how much,
That kid will teach you.
Categories:
dsm, childhood
Form: Blank verse