ill society

People are poisonous.
I can’t remember who I used to be, because I’m being suffocated by human beings.
I can’t remember what I want, because all I can see is what everyone else wants.
I can’t remember if I’m happy or sad, because of what the world tells me to be.
I can’t even remember if it’s okay to be mad,
Because of an avalanche of what people would think.
So tell me people are good?
No, people are poisonous.
I’m sure I’d be me, if it wasn’t for society.
Why are they trying to hide the real,
In everybody?
—  Who do you think you are?

@shacklefunk ‘s gem oc coffinite (left) inspired me to make my own morbid/dark gem character bc im out of fresh ideas at this point, so here she is meeting onyx (right)! after i designed onyx the other day i realized how similar their designs r to each other so i made a joke out of it lmao, but i in no way meant to rip off coffinites design, so blease dont sue me

Every single moment I’ve been alive
Every breathe I’ve ever taken
Every ray of sunshine that’s warmed my skin
I can feel my body dying
I’m worn & breathless even breathing
I’m cold when I’m alive

And would you like to know why?

Feeling every moment so deeply
Doesn’t stop the fact
That indeed
I’m dying
While alive

—  Shucks
It’s Andy

I was talking with an able-bodied person the other day about how it is often best for disabled people to put their worst-face forward during a health assessment and she asked, “Like fake being sicker than you are?” and I said, “No, like, DON’T fake being healthier than you are.”

Because, yeah, sure, you might be having a good day that day and want to show it off, but it could end up making you lose out on services you really need for being ‘too healthy’. Showing our best side is only showing one side and often is showing a side that is unsustainable for us. And then the salt on the wound will be that you have to spend the entire day after the assessment curled up in bed in misery, because you used every ounce of energy you have just making it through the assessment in the first place.

Disabled/Chronically ill people, as a group, are often taught by society to put their best-face forward. To put on our brave-faces. No, our healthy-faces. And not only is that not necessary for us to have to do, but it could end up losing us the help that we really do need.

There was once a day
Some of you
Didn’t feel this way

Do you remember
What made you break

Or are you instead
Some form of constant dread

I don’t remember a day
I wasn’t depressed
Or feeling someone else’s

I don’t remember a day
I didn’t feel this way

—  The Never Days

trauma measures thick layers of dirt on the floors she’ll never scrub
she says it takes more energy to try than to sleep and we’ve already painted on permanent dark circles
we are so used to looking dead,
why go back now

trauma pours a cup of the strongest coffee and melts into the walls at the sound of footfalls

trauma wants to know why we have to remember and I ask her why she thinks we have the ability to forget

trauma cries in the shower and pretends the spicket is a waterfall and she is finally clean

trauma screams at loud movies and flinches when touched

trauma stops episodes mid watch ‘cause one flame can turn white hot wildfire and triggers can kill

trauma decorates her prison and celebrates isolation

trauma renames fear “safety” and says if she has to be a loaded gun she’ll do it right and make her mother proud

trauma cannot forget
trauma cannot forget
trauma cannot forget

If I could share with you
A fraction of my pain
I’m sure you’d suffocate
On salty tears
There’s not a mathematical equation
To name
That would calculate
All of my fears
& Even though
I’m a walking theory
Everytime my knees
Hit the floor
It’s an experiment
To see how much
I can really endure
I’m not scientifically proven
I’m not mathematically correct
I’m a walking unsolved mystery
That you’ll likely not forget
—  That is I.

The London public transportation system is starting a program that issues a badge and card to people with invisible illnesses. It’s designed for passengers who have trouble standing but don’t appear visibly impaired, like people who have cancer or epilepsy, so they don’t have to feel awkward asking for a seat when they need one. Source

I am fighting
I am crying
I am bleeding
I am healing
One by one i pick the pieces from the ground
I am running
I am screaming
I am hurting
I am learning
Piece by piece i glue the shards back together
I am living
I am loving
I am grieving
I am growing
Inch by inch i take the steps to move forward
—  a.m. // i am learning to be better

To her feet,
she climbed.
Becoming stronger than…
Beyond the reach of their divide. 

The waste,
The waiting…
The weight. 

From time’s decay,
illusion’s reign…

The one that got away…
From her Escape

I can’t remember the last “gentle” thing you said.
Or the last time,
Your hands wanted to touch me.
And, isn’t that the saddest part?
That I can’t remember
If you mean anything, anymore.
Or if what you say means anything, anymore.
But, does that even mean anything?
Does love linger?
If it isn’t reciprocated my love, I shan’t say it stagnates, but maybe I shall.
Maybe it means something to me,
Maybe when I write of our stagnated romance, it will spring back to life.
But then again,
Maybe our love is ready to die.
Maybe the embers refuse to ignite.
But I must understand that time kills all.
& the only true way to withstand being in love, is to figure how to get through the moments when you’re not loved at all.
—  Andy I.
Do you know what lonely is?
It’s driving through a graveyard to sit a grave.
Not because you think it’s cool,
But Because that’s where your roommate & best friend lays.
Scrolling down your dad’s entire Facebook feed to see the comments he typed to remember him,
To know he’s gone but he typed that.
He was alive.
& That’s not even the worst part of being lonely.
When you look at your mom & realize the only man she ever loved is gone & will never come back because her family was a bunch of drug addicts.
Her husband & daughter got high together & her daughter is the one who shot him up & then he died.
Lonely is when you realize no matter how much you do & how much you change & how long you stay moving forward,
You’ll never be able to make up for killing your dad.
—  That’s pretty fucking lonely.
I'll be me

Look me in the eye
Then tell me I’m too much
Tell me I drive you crazy
That stubbornness becomes me
Tell me everything you’ve wanted to say
Lay it all out then go your way

Don’t wait for me to fight for you
To call you back
Or beg you to understand
I wont
Instead, I’ll hold the door open for you
Because I’m everything you said I am
And so many other things you haven’t begun to see
I’m the rainbow in the sky
And you’re probably color blind
So we’ll agree to just let this be

I am who I am
Your words or actions won’t change a thing
They’ll hurt me some
And cause me pain
But in the end I’ll still be me

I’m hanging by a thread & I can’t seem to find a

seam to hold on to anymore.

I’m tired of drifting through the fabric of life alone.

I just want to be intertwined with someone like


But the world has forgotten how to sew & here I


feeling like the last thread without a purpose.

—  Forgotten Seams