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-   -   What have I become?... (https://www.recoveryourlife.com/forum/showthread.php?t=85412)

fuzzy_sweets 14-02-2009 03:51 PM

What have I become?...
 
What have I become?..
What Have I done?..
Can’t believe I’m standing here...
...Can’t believe it’s won...

If they could see me now...
..if the could see my pain...
..which runs deeper than a few scars...

...If only they could understand...


fuzzy_sweets 14-02-2009 04:03 PM

Hello stranger...
I think weve met before...
the last time i saw you...you were walking out the door...

Well many years have past...
Too many tears were shed...
But you were always a part of me...
And I just wonder why I never said...

fuzzy_sweets 14-02-2009 04:07 PM

My Secret Friend...

Now everything has gone,
and you are all that seems left.
Youv’e fooled me into this freindship,
and now I cannot escape from it.
Your grip becomes tighter day after day.
I try to loosen it...but you are always still there.
...my little secret freind.

fuzzy_sweets 14-02-2009 04:09 PM

A poem about how I cope when I mess up.

I run too fast and I stumble,
my legs just can’t take the weight anymore.
It’s just too much to bare.
I look all around,
but still nobodies there.
Nobody to gently hold my hand
and lead me along the way.
To keep me going
and stop me from going astray.
But I pluck up the courage
and cry out to you.
For you are always there
even though I don’t always notice you.
You scoop me up,
dry away my tears
make me more whole day-by-day,
so I become more and more like you.
...more like Jesus!

_plastic 14-02-2009 08:56 PM

Very well done =]

I liked the 2nd one very much xxx

fuzzy_sweets 04-08-2011 11:16 PM

The following poem is about my psychosis, i hope this poem can help people to understand Psychosis more really...
My shadow

You linger amongst the shadows,
Nobody knows how long you have been there.
Your heaviness ebbing over me,
It is slowly running through my veins.
Brushing past me,
In your own way you announce yourself.
Slowly you enter my world,
Appearing opaque like in the distance.
Positioning yourself in authority,
You appear all regal and proud.
Your lips slowly open,
And dread fills me with what you’ll announce.
As the words pour out of your mouth,
They trickle into my ears.
You are my very being,
A blessing and yet a curse.
To have you is somewhat of a comfort,
And yet an everlasting nemesis.
…You are my Shadow.

fuzzy_sweets 07-06-2012 07:56 PM

Sobbing like a mother sobs over the death of her child,
Tears come flooding and I wail louder than the wind.


I grieve for what has been taken from me,
Cacooning myself in the duvet the night ebs away.


As I dream it is difficult to determine what is reality,
The event is replayed like a black and white film .

Amnesia feels very welcoming right now,
As it all comes flooding back in my dream.

Snap shots grip me in their tight grip,
Frozen in fear I have no choice but to relive the aweful event.


Even now he has a hold on me when I sleep. What must I do to loosen his grip?

crazykat 08-06-2012 08:52 AM

These are really good :)

fuzzy_sweets 14-12-2012 04:29 AM

I want an Argos baby

There is a baby cradled in my mummy's arms,
It came from the hospital,
Mummy says it's called a 'brother'.

I really wanted a sister,
But apparently the hospital don't do refunds or exchanges.

He gets to be pushed around in a giant silver cross pram,
While I am forced to walk everywhere.

And how come he has a birthday every few months?
When everyone seems to get excited that he turns three months, 6 months and nine months old?
I am five and three quaters but nobody buys me five and three quarters sized clothes.

I want him to get bigger quicker so that I can play with him,
All the can do now is be the baby when we play mummies and daddies.

Why can you not just pick a brother or sisters baby out of the Argos catalogue when they are big enough to do fun things?
Babies from the hospital are plain boring.

fuzzy_sweets 14-12-2012 04:34 AM

Naked Man

Naked man standing in his apartment across the street,
Trying on shirt after shirt,

Turning left and right as he stares into the mirror,
His reflection not approving of how he looks no matter which way he turns.

Sleeves hang too short,
Collars cut into a non existent double chin,

Glancing at the clock he realizes he is running out of time.
Reluctantly he throws on a scruffy T-shirt,

This feels comfortable against his skin,
It may not be flattering but this is the 'real' him.


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