252 posts
  • tokyossss 13w

    The Psychologist and The Patient

    I am a licensed psychologist. I have always had the need to help others besides myself. I always wanted to help others in any way that I possibly can. Especially when it came to their own mind. Things in which they needed a second opinion on or someone to talk to. I would always find a need to help others besides myself no matter the situation.

    But the thing is… I have a gift.

    Ever since I was a child I was able to hear the thought of those around me. Those far from me. Those close to me. I was born with the ability to hear the thoughts of people who were crazy or psychopathic. Even those who were nice. No matter what the person was or who they were, I was able to hear them. The thoughts of people were as clear as them saying it out loud.

    I was always able to help people… even when they couldn't say it. I could just say it for them….
    I have always listened to the thoughts of the depressed, the psychopathic, and the insane. I have listened to it all.

    Until a patient walked in my room and all I was able to hear was silence….

    I asked the basic of questions. The ones I usually do to try and see where their mental state is at. Yet this one, was difficult…

    Something wasn’t right of him. About him. Yet I still proceeded the session, even though he made me very uncomfortable.

    "How has your sleep been lately?"

    The patient answers, "I don’t sleep. My mind has the scary capability of being dark and demented."

    "You are afraid of your dreams?"

    "Yes," he said quietly.

    Session after session I was never able to hear his thoughts. Not once. I tried so hard to hear them because, maybe, just maybe, they were too silent to be heard in a room with 2 people talking. So I asked him to just sit still and lay back and try some meditation.

    It was then when after a moment he simply stood up. Straight back but his legs were still in its laying position. So straight. His… his head was turned toward me… it looked like he wasn't human. It was that moment when I finally understood why people feared silence.

    After minutes of him, just STARING AT ME… NOT EVEN BLINKING… NOT EVEN FREAKIN MOVING! He just sat still….

    For just a moment… He said…

    "I know what your trying to do. I know who you are. Did you
    Think I didn’t know?"
    "Did you think I was that easy to manipulate?"

    I tried to play it off as best as I possibly could. I didn't know what the hell he was trying to get at. I never told a soul about my ability. Not even the closest person I have. No one…

    I mean… he said it so… bluntly. He then proceeded to say 5 words that will haunt me for the rest of my life… I can't sleep. I can't eat. All I do is think about what he told me. Just that simple phrase.

    After a sudden unforgetfull silence...



  • froste_bite 13w

    I've tried everything - working overtime, suicide, drugs, the therapist, pottery classes, even a trip to Bali, but I can't seem to let you go - will you please come back?


  • lola_rose 13w

    I just want to be heard
    Feel like I matter
    Not just the glue
    That deals with family matters

    - @words_by_lola_rose

  • lola_rose 14w

    I thought, I thought, I thought real hard
    I even tried to forgive
    But how can you forgive someone
    Whose apology doesn't exist.
    They say do it for yourself
    You've got to be free.
    But my freedom seems so far away
    In a land of make-believe.
    I tried to forgive
    Impossible to forget
    How can you forgive and be free
    If the memories live.
    The memories that scream and shout
    The ones that drown your volume out
    When you're suppose to sleep.
    I hate, I hate, I hate this feeling
    Of fear inside of me.
    You stole my inner peace
    And gave me misery.
    Every thought of you
    Takes me back to a time
    Where I loved my abuser
    Who stole my mind.
    My voice, like a trick, disappeared
    The person in the mirror lived in fear
    As your roars surrounded me
    When your hands came near.
    All the mental games you played
    How you destroyed my self-esteem
    Told me no one else could ever love me
    And that you would take my son from me.
    All the manipulation.
    It all has consequences.
    How am I suppose to forgive.
    How am I suppose to be free.
    It's been 4 years since I left
    And yet it's still like you own me.

    - @words_by_lola_rose

  • journalofbrokendreams 14w

    Hot soup

    July 15th

    I wake up to pain early again. I wanted to sleep later my body didn't want the rest. As I used the bathroom burning was felt I knew the infection hasn't went away. Now I have a burn on my skin and in liquid I was afraid it'd ruin my dad's day. Fighting the pain we went to the mountains after seeing my useless brother. I love him he abuses my father's love even though his smile tries to change my mind.

    I felt happiness again as wind whipped through my hair my thumbs were soar while my palms sweat. Then my hands gripped the handlebars as dust filled the air behind my father and I. We road high into the mountains I was too afraid to drive that is why I was on the back of my father's machine. After a great day my eyes closed as we made our journey home.

    Sirens filled my ears as I saw a stretcher moving a body into an ambulance. It looked like a nasty crash. I envisioned my body on that stretcher not wanting to breath. I hoped my oxygen mask failed letting me slip into the arms of my mother.

    We got home snapping me into reality I started to puke I was sure what brought this foul taste to my mouth. I helped put everything away grabbing my blistered skin feeling puss leak onto my fingers. Soup once was there biting my skin letting me know I was alive. Now I look at it and cry. Just like the tears gather in my eyes as I think about my hands snapping leaving me unable to write.

    This was a simple task write every day to see how you feel. Use this therapy you have a gift. I don't know if it helps, but I want to do it I enjoy my thumbs tapping the black letters. I share more stories for everyone else my mind keeps going to the soup. I tell everyone it was an accident if that was true I wouldn't have let it stay on my skin.

  • journalofbrokendreams 14w

    My veins

    My blood is tainted with this demon who loves in my veins. My pores start to ooze black as my eyes role into my skull. As I pass out I find myself covered in roses the thorns peiricing my skin. My mother is kneeling next to me looking into my eyes. Words won't escape my lips as I struggle to escape her favorite flowers grasp.
    I get thrown back to seven years old as I sobbed into my father's chest as my brothers arms were wrapped around me too. My father told us she wasn't coming back. I gasp as a scream escape my lungs screaming at my step mom telling her being stuck with her was worse than losing my own mom. I wake up in shodair crying out to go back home.
    I wake up in my mother's arms I can't help but to cry. I asked her why she had to go also where the hell was I. She told me it wasn't heaven, but she does get to watch me.
    Hours pass finally she tells me to go home that my father's need me. I start screaming grabbing foe my mother's clothes. The ground opens up swallowing me whole as my body falls onto a hospital bed.
    There I lay next to my grandmother fighting for her life my skin is covered in cuts. I ask who what's wrong and she can't respond a stroke took her away from us. Her machines start to scream out as I'm removed from the bed.
    My worst fears are all in this nightmare my grandmother is fine those fears won't die. I wake up covered in sweat. I let go of the imagery looking at my skin with no marks on it. I see my blew veins knowing red blood flows within. Air escapes my mouth reilivinnn all the pressure in my chest. Never waa I so happy to have blood coursing through my veins. Then I get a call telling me to go to the ER.

  • the_turbulencewithin 14w

    Invisible Weight

    Weights are heavy
    Mountain heavier
    Unspoken feelings the heaviest

    Earthquakes destroy the physical
    Tides drown the lungs
    While the tornados of suppressed words toss you
    Far and wide, high and low
    And crush your spirit
    And then the self ceases to exist.

  • _hrishi_ 14w


    Sometimes listening good music and sleeping is the best therapy to get over the sadness & loneliness.

  • jadajennings 15w


    whenever I laid in our bed with
    covers yanked over my head,
    you forced me into the car
    knowing stormy sunsets
    could elicit even a brief
    respite from darkness
    of deep depression.

  • sir_namsrof 16w

    Thank You

    I want to thank everyone that has ❤ my poetry.

    Writing is my therapy, it helps me escape from reality.

    Words are just words till there put in the right place.

    This is what us writers truly embrace, hoping for that ace we can showcase.

    So again thank you all.

    There is nothing better then reading everyones poetry and writing for you all.


  • outofleague 16w


    HE : I did so much for her and yet she chose him.
    ME : Was it more than what her parents did for her ?

    (learn from those who know about selfless love.)


  • ashleyjace8514 16w

    T.O. M.A.R.I.L.Y.N

    I plan to come back
    It just won't be now

    I'm going through a lot
    Between loss and the games
    Responsibilities burn my candle at both ends

    It's a struggle on my own
    Dealing with everything solo
    Seems I numb myself
    To block out with screams and drama

    I don't plan on leaving
    I'm in a struggle to make myself strong
    Though I've been up and down
    Without a chair to sit

    Im forcing myself to keep walking
    An angel is keeping me going
    While others break my spirit
    Forcing me their poison and triggers

    I'm not going anywhere
    I plan to come back
    Every other Friday
    10 o'clock

  • river_blaze 16w


    "Who is this?" The Therapist asked while holding up a picture.
    "He's someone I loved once, I gave everything to him. Then he broke me."
    The therapist brought up another picture."Who is this?" I hesitated to answer."He's my real father, he abused me."
    The therapist brought up a third picture."okay, then who are they?" He held up a picture of my old friends.
    "They were temporarily people that were here for a moment, but then vanished from me..."
    He nodded his head and brought the final picture."Now,.tell me..who is this little girl?"
    He showed me a picture of me."
    I held my tears in as I explained that," she is victim from crimes too shameful to mention. She was played with and then discarded like trash. She was broken and mistreated. She's a child that didn't get to be a kid, and ultimately never got to grow up "
    The therapist stood up and sat closer to me.
    "Are you sure that you want to do this?"He asked.
    "Yes, erase it all."
    He said okay and began his treatment.
    (6 months later)

    Who is this?" The therapist asked while holding up a picture.
    "He's just some guy I met once. All I know is that he died.
    The therapist brought out another picture."Who is this?" I'm not sure, don't think I've seen him before...
    The therapist brought up a third picture."okay, then who are they?" He held up a picture of some people.
    "They look like fun people, the type to stand beside you for a long time."
    He nodded his head and brought the final picture."Now,.tell me..who is this little girl?"
    "She is a beautiful little girl who has dreams and ambitions. She seems to have the whole world in her hands, she can do anything that she wants, she seems impossible to tame."

    The therapist put all the pictures down and smiled. "Do you not know what happened the last time we went through these?"I shake my head. He gets up and shakes my hand."Seems like you are cured..you may live your life now."
    I know he hypnotized me. I know he erased something.He simply took my memories and stashed them away in a jar like fireflies, that are slowly dying and losing their light. I allowed him to snuff out the light my pain left on for me. I just can't help but to wonder that by taking my memories, he altered my personality....but was it all worth it....if in the end I'm happy?

    #therapy #writersnetwork @we_support @triptichadha @wordporn @mirakeeworld @writerstolli @writersnetwork

    Read More

    ||The Therapist||


  • expressionism_artlikeatree 16w

    Still dreaming

    I woke up panting
    Exhausted from a dream
    Not remembering
    Where on earth have i been?

  • landon_menne 16w


    When does a heartbeat stop being a beat?
    Heart racing so fast I feel a buzz from my head to my feet.

    When does a breath stop being a breath?
    It becomes a reach for life when being touched by death.

    When does a thought become more than a thought?
    When you take action and fight what can not be fought.

    When did my life stop being mine?
    When depression took hold, slowly over time.


  • landon_menne 17w


    My mind is split
    There are many different sides to me
    One full of hope
    And one that brings nothing but misery

    One side looks at the future
    It yearns for a fulfilling life
    Another is a darkness
    Whose thoughts leave me in strife

    These two sides come and go
    Passing along the way
    In between I find myself
    But I'm never here to stay

    I sit on the sideline
    Of a life that is supposed to be my own
    A passenger in a life
    That leaves me always feeling alone

    Whether hopeful or dark
    They bring their own types of hell
    And the real me is a victim
    With no voice left to yell

    My mind is shattered
    Broken into many personalities
    Each has their own thoughts
    But the quietest one is me

    I'm the one in the background
    Taking all this in
    Taking all the beatings
    So the healing cant begin

    Overwhelmed by these other sides
    The voices never quit
    Relentless screams echo through
    In my mind that is split


  • landon_menne 17w

    My Thoughts

    I've been asked what goes through my mind
    What are my thoughts? what do the voices say?
    I assure you these voices are unkind
    they are relentless each and every day

    through my mind runs a loop of every laugh
    every conversation and every embarrassing moment
    every unkind word that brought me pain
    its an endless cycle of torment

    my mind haunts me in my dreams and keeps me awake at night
    keeps people from knowing me by shrouding me in a mask
    tells me im worthless and pitiful
    most days I cant even complete the simplest of task

    It effects me in ways you cant even imagine
    I live life in a fog so dense I've forgotten that there can be light
    Bombarded by emotions of sadness emptiness anger and regret
    overwhelmed with panic not knowing if I should run or fight

    So when you ask what my thoughts are
    I tell you they aren't my own
    These thoughts just live inside me
    My head is just their home


  • outofleague 17w

    #therapy #celebration #wish #life #allen @abhey1289
    Picture Credits: dinosauriens.info

    Read More


    we give up to sorrow
    for someone's absence.
    what about the celebration,
    for them having an amazing life
    we all wished once,
    being fulfilled ?


  • lola_rose 17w

    I often find myself
    Far way
    Lost in a daze
    A deranged maze
    Entangled in webs
    Of pain
    I often find myself
    Laughing, smiling
    Enjoying the love around me
    And realizing
    That I love my life
    But what I feel
    Is like an infection
    Comes and goes
    Comes and goes
    And so
    I often find myself far away
    Even though my reality
    Makes me want to stay.

    - @words_by_lola_rose

  • landon_menne 17w


    My thoughts are foreign, not my own. But in my mind they make their home.
    Senseless thoughts from anxiety, exhausted by my fears running free.