11 posts
  • suddenlyme 13w

    I have....

    I have a Speech Apraxia and that's all I have to say

  • rjbritten 129w


    A creative brain making waves
    turning simple everyday into
    Worlds full of life.
    Diectic mixed within
    the bowl of the mind
    A careful selection
    a recipe of perfection
    A chef creating delicacies
    fit for a king.
    But then, instead of a spice blended
    A mistake occurs salt has spilled in.
    Hand in hand it often accompanies
    Creativity hindered by a crux
    of spelling inability.
    Tainted work, scarred by error, only seen by anothers eye.
    Will there ever be an end to this dyslexic

    @R.J Britten

  • mssngnnja 144w

    Spatial Dyslexic

    I took out a map,
    Trying to find,
    My way back to home.

    But I just couldn't.

    Confused and disoriented,
    I was lost,
    In the midst of castaway.


  • slaywithwords 150w

    Dear society,
    I'm tired of reading your never ending list of 'NOT ENOUGH'.
    I'm tired of that flush of sympathy on your face, raised eyebrows, and all 'it will be OK ' advices.
    Nothing needs to be OK, nothing needs to be fixed because it's already normal or maybe you should change your definition of normality ,in your dictionary of old mindset .

    another dyslexic child struggling to get accepted.

  • morbidlibrarian 151w

    Haiku #1 Dyslexia

    "That's funny" Life said.
    A librarian scared to
    read aloud to kids.

  • slaywithwords 152w

    The devil of social reputation spoilt his childhood.
    Trying to protect the castle of family's pride and honour, every night he drowned in the waves of self doubt.
    In the struggle of adjusting in the sea with other fishes no one understood he was made for sky!

  • iinked_mistake 170w

    Ashamed of Me

    Something is wrong..
    I've laid here staring at the ceiling for far too long
    I don't know where sleep ran off to
    Headphones pounding
    It's 3am
    And I've never felt more awake and exhausted
    My skin is restless and wanting to crawl off my back
    My hands can't stay still and keep sliding under the blankets
    My body isn't responding
    My brain is hungry
    Lusty and searching
    Why am I still alive
    The songs keep running through my ears
    I'm trying to close my dilated eyes
    But my soul is wrestling with the lies
    Countlessly told over the last few years
    And I don't want my house of cards to collapse around me
    I don't want anyone to see me
    Small and ugly
    I'm pretending
    But the last curtain call is past
    And the show is ending

    I'm distracted
    I feel like my brain is full of dumb
    Stupid and numb

    Eating disorders

    Can we talk about all this combined with my weird personality
    You want to know the real me?
    Okay so here in my reality
    I hear the voices
    Sometimes I can't make my own choices
    Sometimes I forget my own name..
    I rely on other people to remember how old I am
    Because most days I feel 92 instead of 29
    And truth be told
    I feel a clutching dread that
    It will only get worse

    I am ashamed of who I am
    I am afraid of everything I become

    Could you please stop breathing
    I can hear your lungs rattling in your heavy chests
    I see the pulsing of your blood in your neck
    And I can barely contain myself from stopping it permanently
    Imagine me being in a crowded space
    Hundreds of stupid hearts pumping
    Lungs pulling all the oxygen out of the air
    And I'm too nervous and scared to tell everyone that I'm suffocating quickly
    My voice comes out in a squeak
    But in my head it's all screaming shriek
    I'm running to be outside
    My ears and brain are going to explode from all the noise
    Please can't you all just be quiet for a minute
    Just until I'm okay again
    I can't explain it
    I just need..

    Maybe I really am psycho
    If I could capture the child of yesterday
    I would send her to tomorrow
    And I would protect her as she grew up
    No twisted monsters in the closet this time, love

    I hover on the outside of normal social circles
    Because if there was a god
    He would know I would never be comfortable being anywhere outside of squares
    I cut my sandwich into crooked triangles
    And I prefer my pillows to be lumpy and uncomfortable

  • fireheartofgold 175w

    This is not my best poem. It is more of me just asking myself questions and hoping to get answers

    Story behind the writing-
    I was diagnosed with dyslexia when I was 8. It was life changing. Before the diagnostics, I was the stupid girl who just could not read. Teachers never tried to help me. The would see me struggling, but would do nothing to help me. Now I know why I am like this. I know why I struggle so much with reading and spelling. What I don't know is how I feel in love with reading. I struggle so much with reading and writing and spelling, yet thet have become part of me. I spend all of my time either reading or writing.

    #original #originalcontent #writersnetwork #dyslexia #help #iamlost #reading #findme #saveme #wantme #loveme #please

    Read More


    I was lost from the world
    I needed to be found
    No one would save me
    So I had to find myself
    But i could not do it alone
    So i started to read
    Just as a distraction from everything
    Somehow, I found myself
    I found myself in the words

    Isn't it ironic?
    How someone who can't understand words
    Found herself in them
    I was saved by something I should hate
    How is it possible
    I could love the one thing I struggle with most

    Is everyone like this?
    Do they find their disability
    And fall in love with it?
    Do people with depression
    Fall in love with sappy stories?
    Are people who are blind
    In love with thinking in color?
    Or am I the only one like this?


  • rishitasingh 188w

    I victual myself with words.
    I descry my neurosis with you.
    To contempt you , I covet " dyslexia".
    If then , it makes my idiosyncrasy satiate.

  • prabha_prakash 209w

    Rohan's study room.
    10 pm.
    Tears rolled down his cheeks as his parents took turns to chisel down his math paper.
    His wet pillow lulled him deep into a cul-de-sac, wondering why undiagnosed dyslexia never deserved sympathy.

  • ketchup_po 233w


    "R..E..A..S..O..N", she asked him to repeat.

    "R..A..E..S..N..O", he innocently repeated.

    She eulogized him, but sighed.
    "This was a better attempt.", her brain pacified her heart.