the-dyslexic-writer

[the-dyslexic-writer]

Got bones?

[the-dyslexic-writer]

Reblog to give the person you reblogged this from a few old buttons, a jar of moss, a shiny silver hairpin, a rusty lid and some pretty rocks you found washed up on the riverbank

[the-dyslexic-writer]

Absolutely amazing! Thank you!!!

@the-dyslexic-writer‘s The Reaper

Thank you for being my 100th follower!

[the-dyslexic-writer]

The beginning of my bone collection. All humanly sourced and treated with respect

[the-dyslexic-writer]

Defective

Why do I go to school?

Why get a job?

So I can join the drones pulling themselves from the tight embrace of their sheets to drag their tired feet to a nine to five?

I don't want to be torn from my sheets because they are the only thing warming my frozen body

Since I took an ice dagger to the heart

I'm falling and it is so hard to fight against gravity

So why should I even bother?

I can't help but point out the meaninglessness of it all

And you fucking stand there and criticize me for the way I was born

I’m sorry but that one’s on you

You chose to have another kid and yet here you are looking at me like I was no more than a uteral parasite

Maybe I am parasite

But its your fault so don't get all confused when I turned out fucked up

You chose me so tough fucking shit

It’s not like you’ll understand anyway

You’re parents loved you

Even your dillusional bipolar mother loved you

But here you are trying to fix me

I’m not fucking broken

My cement skin on my feather-light lungs makes it hard to breath sometimes

My skin shows the fissures I carry as battle scars

Sometimes my bones clank and my knees give out

But I’m not broken

Broken implies I can be fixed

You know it in your mind and heart that I can’t be fixed

I’m not broken, I’m defective

So stop trying to fix a piece that is missing

Stop trying to close the ever growing cracks on my skin

Stop trying to glue my thoughts back together after they have shattered

When something is defective, you just through it away

You need to give up

I’m not worth trying to salvage

Maybe they can use my parts as spares for kids who really deserve to live

Becasue my drivers license says “organ donor” and I can make that happen

I know it hard to think about

But every time I get behind the wheel I wonder which hill will let the car flip the most

I make a game out of sick thoughts

Coaxing my delusional side back off the ledge so that I can live one more miserable day

Because I lied

That day when you first found out and the psyc ward nurse asked if I had ever contemplated suicude

I look straight into his eyes and lied

Because I didn’t want to be the kid who got committed

I lied because the man who gave me half my chromosomes doesn’t need more things to think about at night

Because so far in life all I have been is a burden on those I love

And a pest to those I hate

I’m so done

I know you are too

I wish I could end it all

Take the easy way out

But would that be more pathetic, Mom?

I got in a fight with my mother because she keeps trying to "fix" my depression

[the-dyslexic-writer]

Brimstone

Standing alone with him, I knew what happened.

He was a stunning figure. Tall and dark. Skin and muscle absent on his body of bone. His scythe towered above me. He was ready to go. 

I knew we needed to move on. To go to where we go after it's all over. I didn't want to go, but I knew that I needed to.

I had a lot of questions for him. I had many that I believed he would not answer as well as some he may. My brain was swirling with thoughts and a desire for truth burned in me. 

He looked towards me, his face was shrouted in the darkness of his hooded cloak. He took a breath and turned towards the darkness road that streached out before us. 

He started forward. I moved my feet in time with his. We walked together in silence. I felt alone, though I knew he stood next to me. 

I raised my head to speak, but the eerie silence told me otherwise. I lowered my gaze to my toes. The hours started to tick by.

Soon my legs ached and my feet began to slow. I stopped. He stopped as well. He gave me a peculiar look. His hollow eyes reminding me of my life before.

I opened my mouth. I fought to urge to close it.

"I do not answer such questions." He said.

"You do not know what I was going to say." I said

"It is always the same."

"What do you remember?" I questioned.

He looked at me with those hollow eyes. I could tell that was not the same.

"I remember my life." He said. He began to walk again. I moved beside him. "I remember hell fire and brimstone. I remember my trial and my sentencing. I remember my debt." 

With that we had arrived. The golden gates opened in front of me. I took a step back. He took a step forward. 

I took his scythe. 

My flesh melted away. My muscle and tendons after it. My vision went blank for a moment, my sight remaining after. My eyes were long gone. Black garb hung from my bone frame.

"Your debt has been payed." I said.

He turned into the golden gates. I turned to the darkness. 

He looked at me. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes. Real eyes. His flesh had returned. His face was beautiful.

Love me some twists

[the-dyslexic-writer]

My sleep paralysis demon is named Devon

If you’re ever afraid of sleep paralysis demons, or ghosts, that’s fair. 

[the-dyslexic-writer]

halloween

OR

pride month 2: electric spookaloo

[the-dyslexic-writer]

THIS IS HALLOWEEN

[the-dyslexic-writer]

But I don't dream....?

What if sleeping is our natural state, and we’re only awake to gather information for dreams?

[the-dyslexic-writer]

Cutie pie

Mei.Meows

[the-dyslexic-writer]

Katya with that wisdom drop

[the-dyslexic-writer]

I also want some writeblrs friends

I'm so bored and I need writer friends.

which unfortunate souls out there would like to be my friends?

also yeah I need writeblrs to follow so reblog to save me from my boredom.

uhhhg.

[the-dyslexic-writer]

Internal Monologue

depression is the kind of tired that sleep wont fix

like someone relplaced your bones with cement 

and now your arms are heavier than they should be

and your brain is throbbing because your skull is caving in

but you're fine

because you have to be fine

if you're not fine

then what are you?

you can't be sad because you are well off

that's selfish 

you can't be tired because you got eight hours of sleep

that's stupid

you can't be alone because you have friends

that's naive

why would you ever think that you are special?

depression is the feeling of hands pressing down on your body

but they are on the inside of your skin

and they refuse to go away

the pressure of an appendage that isn't there

“go away,” you say

but it won't

because you deserve this

for all things you have done

all the bad and all the good

no matter what

you deserve this

sleep won't get rid of the tired

but when you're not awake, what's the difference?

maybe if you sleep all day then the pressure will go away

just stay in bed all day

where do you have to go anyway?

Wow, big surprise. I have depression. Woop. Enjoy my sadness

[the-dyslexic-writer]

Constantly

[the-dyslexic-writer]

do you know me?

You don't know me, but you will

I am different

I am something so common, yet many choose to ignore me

They oppose my point of view, protest all I am

What could that be, you ask?

I am a shapeshifter, two faced

I am someone different to different people

They question me, then refuse my response

How could someone live like that, you ask?

I am the color blue

I am moving like flowing water, avoiding their view

They mock me, accuse me of crimes

Born wrong, I tell them

Wrong answer, they tell me

I tried to run, stumbling in the darkness of my own mind

I tried to disappear, trembling in the corner of the room

It never worked

Do you know me now?

I kinda like this one

[the-dyslexic-writer]

If you're reading this...

go write three sentences on your current writing project.