Mental Health

The Rules Are Different For Me
The Rules Are Different for Me I’m told to wait. Wait until the papers are signed. Wait until the judge says it’s over. Wait until the marriage that already ended on the inside is officially dead on paper.
By ChezaLunaabout 5 hours ago in Poets
Void
Tonight, I would like to scream into the void. I want to yell until my head feels like it is going to explode, and then yell some more.
By Ivy Roseabout 8 hours ago in Poets
Persistence
Even while security eludes me and my own mind makes it hard to feel secure in my skin, I still know that I'm the winner when it comes to certain stories in my life.
By Ivy Roseabout 8 hours ago in Poets
Triggered
Shaking, the tone and volume of your words trigger my deepest fears. They’re not aimed at me, but they still cut deep. Trauma lives forever in my soul, it’s part of what makes me whole. And I can’t control the way I feel when others break down around me.
By Ivy Roseabout 8 hours ago in Poets
Linear
I can’t let mistakes of the past affect my future, and I can’t let other people’s mistakes live inside my head, filling me with dread.
By Ivy Roseabout 8 hours ago in Poets
Building A Healthcare Business For The Future
Starting a healthcare business takes more than a sign on a building and an open door. It starts with a reason, a hope, a belief that someone out there needs some relief.
By Naheed Ali, MD, PhD, ScDabout 8 hours ago in Poets
Drain
Circling the drain, again and again… feelings clogging up my brain that I just want to rinse down the sink. This feeling stinks…
By Ivy Roseabout 9 hours ago in Poets
Venting. Content Warning.
I think I prefer someone. Who doesn’t talk much, I think the ones who talk to much are the ones who always need alot of attention and I don’t have a lot of time to give
By Jennifer lindquistabout 10 hours ago in Poets
Brux laid plans
In a rare and magical moment, I have both the social stamina and paralyzing dental health anxiety to solve this problem now instead of putting it off.
By Veronica Wrenabout 22 hours ago in Poets
Between the Lines
The waves on the shore speak with no meaning, yet convey much. . The winds in the trees whisper nothing, all the same sharing volumes.
By Julie Lacksonenabout 24 hours ago in Poets
t.g.
when the priest says he did not have an opportunity to know [the deceased], that [the deceased] was not an active church-goer, [the deceased] becomes a lost soul.
By kpa day ago in Poets
Stuck on the puzzle
Sometimes I imagine I’m that puzzle piece. The piece someone inevitably spills juice on Carelessly pinning me down To the cold kitchen counter. Leaving me just a bit too wonky To fit where I should have been. Unlucky, stained, unsalvageable. The blighted piece to blame For spoiling the pretty image.
By Veronica Wrena day ago in Poets