School Mental Illness Poems

I remember when I held my children for the first time

I remember when I spoke at my dad’s funeral ad libbing in a mix of...

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When I was six
I didn’t know what the word suicide meant 
I don’t even remember hearing it
I played with dolls and swinged in the park
I...

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My notebook is next to me as always.

Bent and covered in drool.

I did speak to myself but it was nothing but rambling and scrambling.

My notebook...

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In home room that morning
I found the folded letter on my desk
informing me of my election
to the National Honor Society

Quite a thing for the 11th...

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There’s this paper.

Words, and things, 

And things can become mangled like the lines that are stabbing through each other.

Handwriting- that’s what keeps us all safe...

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Beep, beep, beep.

Said the bird.

It’s just like when I would wake up for school…

When I lived in the real world.

Of windows that open, and parents...

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Why don’t they teach you in school 
all the different ways of people 
the narcissists need to control 
their treatment that turns cold 
the manipulators...

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Overbearing obsessions drown all rational thoughts 
Each shutter of my camera brings a high that cannot be bought 
My fragile façade flourishes with every snap...

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A competitive path,
society v individual,
to retributive justice
is measured in accountability
of the individual
to respect 
the imposed police and court
and prison system.

More cooperative polypaths,
individual Me AND social...

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High functioning autism is just a word to most.
Receiving and having are two different word's.
And so we try in having, as little attention drawn
Too ourselves...

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When I was slain in the spurit I was mostly surprised.
Dehydrated and dizzy, clenching the lids on my eyes
Blood refilling the arms recoiled from a...

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II

I am writing this segment in free-form poetry. Structureless rhyme schemes.  

I think lost myself again.
my thoughts spiral.
in the whirlpools of my mind
might seem...

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"writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear ..."
Beatles, Eleanor Rigby
This poem refers to the increasing number of teenagers suffering from depression...

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Everyone seems happy,
but no one understands what
It feels like to feel badly. 

The 60 percent in sports, the 30 percent in clubs,
but I'm 100 percent...

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You ask me what I'm afraid of,
Is it spiders, snakes, heights?
Does your heart race every time you're on a mountain?
Or plummeting through the sky on...

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