Featured: Who am I really?
Needles of GrassNeedles of grass, their never-endingNeedles of Grass by jade-pandora
rage; a ghost fire, spreading
the slow burn that licks at my
calves, that makes my toes seize
and my fingers buzz, fighting the
hollow numbness that encroaches,
harbingers of the saccharine drip,
eroding the perception of sight and
thought that drowns in a single depth
the ebbing of low tide on a beach of
finest silt, unable to support
anything heavier than the sea salt
that weeps from my nostrils,
a cycle, a cyst; moon phases
extolling their revelation,
a parasitic resolve-
reading a muted fortune
as seen through the uncorrupted
facets of a perfect diamond
that never realizes its own
appreciation, only the inevitable,
unable to grant that
this too shall pass,
when I will be reduced to crawling
through needles of grass.
BramblittAt first,Bramblitt by hopeburnsblue
In a world
Where days dawned dark,
He felt he was groping,
Grappling to understand
And recreate the reflection
He could no longer see.
His fingers, like ten eyes,
Wept black and red
Onto a page.
On the ending bars
Of "Pride and Joy,"
He can scarcely contain
The light within
As his smiling fingers
A finished canvas,
With shocks of blue and orange.
SongbirdShe was blind, but could seeSongbird by jade-pandora
everything. Nothing held back
the girl with moonbeams for eyes,
feeling the gardens she walked,
through dozing dewdrop buds,
and stepping from tangerine
puddle to tangerine puddle,
rippling away rain clouds from
the sky at her feet, as she shook
constellations from her hair,
while birds sang from her throat.
Dancing with ButterfliesShe was dancing with butterflies in a disorienting world. A chaotic expanse of a mind barely absent sent her soaring into the stars, unaware of the desolation left in an ongoing rampage. Reality was an illusion; a long forgotten memory and an old friend lost in the passing of time. Her grasp on sanity was a laughable hallucination; a deception of grandiose ideas and irrational behaviors from a reason abandoned. To her, everything was wonderful and magical, dancing amongst the butterflies of true madness.Dancing with Butterflies by PennedinWhite
|ItDoesNotHaveMe is an awareness group on deviantART started by opioid after unexpected but incredibly positive feedback for her Lyme Disease article on dA's editorial news. It is a place where artists coping with illness--either physical or mental, their own or a loved one's--can seek out a headquarters for awareness and expression.|
Submissions to the group's gallery should be directly related to an illness or condition. There must be a mention of this illness or condition in the Artist's Comments.
"I've spent 7 weeks on a psychiatric ward, and was discharged today! I was also given a diagnosis of Anxiety Avoidance Personality Disorder - has anyone else here received that diagnosis? It would be nice to chat with someone!"
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