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Unrendered

It doesn’t have a start or an end— just the hum, the buzz of your brain in silence. Internal electricity. You try to catch it— like lightning, try to sculpt something: words, clay, paint on a stretcher canvas. But it doesn’t escape. The tight grip on your chest. Eyes behind eyes. Screens before mirrors before windows. The buzz in your head blending into the melody of fluorescent lights.
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In My Head

In my head, it's chaos, racing, loud,
A thousand thoughts scream, none are allowed
To quiet down, to settle, to sleep,
The noise never stops, it's a mountain too steep.

I want to do the things I love, I swear,
But today, my body refuses to care.
Lazy, lazy, lazy, the thoughts in my mind,
But it’s not laziness, it’s paralysis I find.

I wish for energy, a spark to ignite,
But the will to move stays locked out of sight.
The laughter, the singing, the joy that should be,
It’s all waiting, but nothing is happening in me.

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My Sea

I float here in my sea,
dark, cold, and deep.
I cannot see the depths below,
Is something reaching up for me?

I feel no touch, no grasp, just cold,
As I float here in my sea.
Yet dread lingers in the silence.
Is something reaching up for me?

Will something rise to claim me,
And drag me to the murky deep,
Or will I float forever,
In my endless lonely sea?

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Anxiety

Anxiety grips like a vice, so tight,
A life ruled by fear, fear of all things,
How can I break free from this endless night?

Each breath I take feels like a fight,
A future unknown, the shadow clings,
Anxiety grips like a vice, so tight.

I watch the world, slipping out of sight,
From the sidelines, where nothing springs,
How can I break free from this endless night?

I dream of peace, of unshackled flight,
But each step forward, the darkness stings,
Anxiety grips like a vice, so tight.

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The Jester's Mask

In the mirror, I am a ghost,
a puppet of the world's illusions,
its expectations heavy as chains,
strings long since frayed by the violence of my mind.

Inside, I am a graveyard,
the dead whispering the things I cannot say.
Tears hidden behind smiles that crack like old paint.

The court of fools calls to me,
eyes blind to the burden I carry.
I play the jester for them,

but if death came tonight,
I would take his hand,
and breathe a sigh of relief.

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Creeping

Eyes on me, watching close,
A creeping sense of doom.
Is this a dream or waking nightmare?
I can't scream or cry, so I smile politely.
Inside, my heart beats like a drum,
I hope they can't hear it.

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Insomnia

There are nights when even the pills fail,
their promise of peace crumbles like ash.
My mind is a restless storm,
thoughts racing, twisting,
turning upon themselves.

Each night I close my eyes,
but sleep is a cruel spectre,
hovering just beyond reach.

Then my sleeplessness turns on me.
My heart beats hard and fast,
like a bird, trapped against the bars of my ribs.
Pain coils tight in my chest.
The room spins, its edges blur.

I cannot think.
I cannot feel.
I cannot speak.

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