This is about my sister:
Lady Idiocity
I call her Lady Idiocity, but you can call her what you wish.
Her disposition is quite fraudulent and her words are quite crass.
If even you listen closely, I’m sure you’ll find my meaning en masse.
I’m sure she’ll take what you have, eat from your dish.
Tell her to do it, bring the goblins from her ear.
Tell them to run and hide, there is a storm drawing near.
Lady Idiocity does without thinking, and negates that fact of what she did was
wrong.
She just keeps drawing from the hides of the innocent and cooks in flame
their heart and song.
You see, her motives are scattered and their paths spawn from something
misconstrued.
Because her reality is quiet devoid and her presence is quite caustic.
I assure you, your polite comment will be taken as distasteful and rude.
Thus, be careful to avoid her, her mind is quite tangent.
Those who have come to be by her have been thrown to the wind, even the
goblins from her head where cast away.
So be sure to surpass Lady Idiocity, or she might be you one day.
© Leighanne Quinn
________________________
This is about my panic attacks:
My Panic Attacks
This reality of mine is not so kind,
I play the music loud to blot out my mind.
When the anxiety first arouses I want to run in fear,
my mind rolls up into a ball and it draws my apathy near.
I can't stand how I feel,
it is as if I'm an axis of a tipping reel.
I feel happy when I put my keys in the car and drive,
but I know the joy will end once I arrive.
Tell me why I feel this way,
why must my emotions slay my day?
I can not stand this emotional over-ride,
I wish I could shout, "Stop!" and they would just subside.
But, alas, this can never be true,
and so I say, "Good-bye," to happiness again and bid adieu.
© Leighanne Quinn
__________________________
One of the first poems that I wrote:
Unto Silence
I feel like something is constantly sticking me,
I feel that I might die.
There are bruises within my heart
and they grow deeper with every cry.
Inside my bones there are demons lurking,
they throw embers at my veins.
Inside my mind fears the blades
sticking in its sides, it wearily retains.
Absence in the synapses cause it to begin to grow cold.
Inside I feel much shame, but my life force has grown less bold.
Outside, my limbs begin to feel the ache.
Outside, this dainty life of mine slowly begins to shake.
Psychedelic colors of blinding hues begin to march in random lines.
The sites around me, they grow so blurry, my vision begins to cave in.
Guilty, not I, for I have seen the forsaken,
within your site I untie these decrepit lines.
Penetrating, my body gives into its foreclosure and I forget where I've been.
And so it drains and with me, I slide heavily upon the ground,
Releasing myself from once a treasure, but releasing my rancid bound.
© Leighanne Quinn
