Lulu’s constant dysphoria took me down
She was known as downhearted all over town
She has been in mourning since 1962
Forlorn and miserable, is Little Lu.
I run from her sorrow others told me
But doesn’t that add to her misery?
Save yourself, my relatives said.
She is determined to be depressed until she’s dead.
For once i smile and dance as i look at my reflection in mirror
oh the clothes fit my body so nicley, i like it
i like it when i look at me and feel something thats not making me want to curl up and cry
I dance and sing whatever song is playing
i dont care what it is id like to dance and sing for a bit
my shirt flows so nicley along the movments of my body
my jeans look so good on my legs as i dance
turns out I really can feel great
then i sit down and try not to cry
i know once my clothes are off ill cry and want to die
why cant i always look as nice as i do now?
Ironic we live in a time when partial people
Feel the need to cut off parts
To be more whole
These parts can range
From friends and family, home and culture
To their own distinctive body
But the effect is the same
Individuals made even less
In their effort to be something more
(1/2/25)
There is only something right within me
I need to choose a side this time
And I don't know how to pick myself
Debilitating dysphoria occurs in my soul
And I am left with a stranger once again
~Ayesh
That damned thing between the walls
that stares and stares all day long,
A ghost, a ghoul, something fowl,
You can tell from how it scowls,
It whispers truths I wished denied,
its body clad head to toe in lies,
I cannot shake the cursed eyes,
which stalk me still through day and night,
This creature which tears my soul to shreds,
Haunts my dreams, lies in my bed,
Sometimes I wish it better off dead,
or simply not exist instead,
This thing which fills my heart with fear,
lies behind every mirror
Short Poem Dysphoria
Miracle Man
1/14/2023
Due to lifely issues, numbering a bunch,
quality of life has taken a different track.
Today, Dysphoria is eating my lunch,
and readies itself to pop the sack.
Tom
It’s easy to believe
That humans don’t have hearts
After what they’ve done to me
Lies tend to numb the hurts
But I’ve never been the type
To lie, cheat, or steal
Instead I like to run
To run from what is real
And while I’ve never been athletic
I’ve always been creative
So I like to pretend
It matters what a person is
It doesn’t
Not really
No, not in the least
But pretending I’m someone
It brings me some peace
Made In America
Is a fable
By foreign companies
For
Gullible patrons
Who love
To call themselves
Patriots
Today a key
To unlock the apartment
Tomorrow
It will be
Your debit card
And
A credit score
Will float over your head
Kids go to school
Not in the latest fashion
Nor
Do they wear uniforms
No
School kids
Today they wear
Bullet-proof vests
No healthcare for all
But war!
War for all ages!
Step up!
One and all!
Except for the rich!
Only the poor
Get to die!
On television
That's not a NASCAR race!
It's congress
But look
Look at their sponsors
Big pharma!
And oil companies!
Writing your laws!
Dystopia dysphoria
It never
Seemed real
Until
We made it real!
And Idiocracy
is a documentary
Of America's downfall!
There's a constant drone in the back of my head
Hide them
Hide them
Hide them
Hide them
A constant drone that turns my vision red
Hide them
Hide them
Hide them
Hide them
Snap
Snap
Snap
Snap
Every picture hurts
Crack
Crack
Crack
Crack
The facade's about to burst
I'm sick of living my life on a timer
It restarts daily, but it ticks forevermore
There's only one solution to the timer
But it's not available to me
They can't see why I hate the timer
They think the time on it is enough
Sometimes they ask why I need the time
They say, "If the timer bothers you, stop taking the time!"
"We don't take the time. So we don't have a timer. Look at us!"
Oh how I wish it were that simple
They have no timer, but they have all the time
They don't need to take it
They were born with it
I hate my timer
The person you are inside,
Your real self, your personality,
Is not who you look like on the outside
You are not show in reality
Body and mind are not one,
Two different things apart
You are now done
With being split in part
Between what is shown
And what is you really
The body you think you own
And the one inside, you finally
Decide to break the cycle of thinking
And end it with you last blinking
Written on February 17, 2020
Fluttering Blue Banners
Pink & White long behind
Hidden under the tiles, an adder
Teeth sharp as rock we’ll surely find
Large smiles and new energy
So young blooms breathe fresh air
Into lungs defeated by entropy
Feeding grins once diminished by a glare
How music lulls us sweetly
In morning, in night, in rest
How the poisons kill deftly
And we ignore symptoms for the fest
Celebrate for new breath
Defeated by broken lungs
Turn away from threats of death
Her beauty never hears their tongues
They’ll surely kill us all
Or make the rest unending pain
But spring will be loved in place of fall
And if in Her stormy skies, we will reign
Where did I run off to?
The skin crawls.
The eyes see but do not observe.
The ears hear but tune out, as I try to tune in.
Here I remember thoughts that once felt like a plague;
How can I be a better person today?
Whose cup is half empty, aching to run over?
Lately, and for an eternity now, I feel the true ailment,
The winding spiral of nothingness which touches the very pit of me,
from the tip of my head to the bare of my feet,
with the tax of a body to drag along.
A void i prefer to avoid, but is quite fond of me,
embodies me,
while everything internally screams a disabling, prolonged clamor of vacancy;
extinguishment.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Where did I run off to?
Faulty biology adds a perfect suffering
Tears in my throat leave me weakly stuttering
Fear, pain, and angst leaves my body cold and shuddering
Dark thoughts make me unconscious, slumbering
I ask about your day and leave your soul merely ignored
A lack of words, useless screams onto the lord
Of which I lack belief, although desperation cold
Closes shut my eyelids and embraces my own soul
No one seems to notice all the pain which I withhold
Abort physical pain and the infinite dysphoria
Add the opposite of pleasure and orgasmic euphoria
The result is numbness in an infinite dystopia
I see 2 men in the mirror like I'd suffer from dyplopia
I feel sickness for myself as a man with autophobia
I vomit blood, I've cracked my skull because of nausea
My lack of genitalia leaves me with phantom limbs
I can't really describe it more than limbs that don't exist
Will I ever be okay, or will this pain persist?
Have you ever woken up asking "whats the point"
Tired of daily life
Desperate for a change
Music doesn't seem to please anymore
Nights when sleep seems tiresome
Days that seem to never end
I just need a switch
Not necessarily something major
People's questions hit my ear drums exasperatedly
I have a dysphoric mood
Nothing seems to please me
Everything seems exhausting
People seem to be missing from my life
Just me and my insanity in this silent room
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