Trichotillomaniac The Poet
Trichotillomaniac The Poet Poems
i'm tired of trying to hide my pain
behind beautiful metaphors
this disorder is a monster
it's a demon that possesses you
...
i'm tired of trying to hide my pain behind beautiful metaphors this disorder is a monster it's a demon that possesses you that won't allow you to sleep, eat, or even play with your pets without it taking over it's something that cannot be stopped no matter how hard you try it's inevitable. you spend your life on a daily wait for it to come back and attack this disorder is sitting on your hands rocking back and forth because you cannot control yourself this disorder is climbing on top of the dresser leaving the lights on, while hours go by just to see the hair you want to get out more clearly this disorder is having your nose start running because the hair you pulled is too painful this disorder is an inexorable cycle
this disorder is jumping into the deepest ocean this disorder is jumping into the deepest ocean and not knowing how to swim this disorder is being buried alive and continuing to hurt yourself instead of trying to find a way to escape this disorder is being shot repeatedly with a M134 Mini-gun
that shoots 2,000 to 6,000 rounds of shame, guilt, and regret per minute there is nothing beautiful about this disorder no matter how much i try to disguise it as so loving the pain that comes from it sometimes feels like i love abusing myself this disorder is hell, mental fire that won't go away until you get 'just one more'
this disorder is questioning why you continue to do this to yourself if it's so destructive but then remembering that you have no control.
...
everyday i go through a tug of war
with the 2 sides of myself
one side is fighting for self control
the other side is fighting to be self soothed
...
we shouldn't have to hide
we shouldn't be held hostage prisoners
of our own mind
for something we cannot control
...
i have the hands of an octopus
my hands have a brain of their own
my hair becomes fishes surrounding me
thay my hands just want to go away
...
The Best Poem Of Trichotillomaniac The Poet
This Disorder Is A Monster (Trichotillomania)
i'm tired of trying to hide my pain
behind beautiful metaphors
this disorder is a monster
it's a demon that possesses you
that won't allow you to sleep,
eat, or even play with your pets
without it taking over.
it's something that cannot be stopped,
no matter how hard you try
it's inevitable. you spend your life
on a daily wait for it to come back and attack.
this disorder is sitting on your hands,
rocking back and forth
because you cannot control yourself.
this disorder is climbing
on top of the dresser,
leaving the lights on,
while hours go by just
to see the hair you want
to get out more clearly.
this disorder is having your nose start running because the hair you pulled was too painful.
this disorder is an inexorable cycle.
this disorder is jumping into the deepest ocean and not knowing how to swim.
this disorder is being buried alive and continuing to hurt yourself, instead of
trying to find a way to escape.
this disorder is being shot repeatedly
with a M134 Mini-gun
that shoots 2,000 to 6,000 rounds
of shame, guilt, and regret per minute
there is nothing beautiful about this disorder,
no matter how much i try to disguise it as so.
loving the pain that comes from it
sometimes feels like i love abusing myself.
this disorder is hell,
mental fire that won't go away
until you get 'just one more'
this disorder is questioning why you continue to do this to yourself if it's so destructive
but then remembering
that you have no control.
Trichotillomaniac The Poet Comments
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12/26/2025 9:38:41 AM # 1.0.0
