And it's moments like these
where you stop moving and the world
spins
And your body feels so heavy
like rocks, like mountains,
like the whole world is pushing down
like you're drowning
in gravity
like none of the rules of physics apply
And it's like quicksand
there's no bottom to the pit
you've dug
and no ladder, no stairway, no handholds
you're falling
And you feel like you can barely breathe
barely blink
barely live
Depression isn't something cool
not a fad
or a trend
it's a sentence
a death sentence
and I don't know whether or not I can lift it
because somedays,
like today,
it's just too heavy

Soft wind whistles through slight wilting trees
melting buildings of stones and stairways of leaves
and from a high thistle throne wear I a harsh golden crown
I tilt my pale head and look to the ground

Seventeen stories up and my subjects below
hear the symphony play stuck in staccato
each short stilted note striking down to my bones
the concrete inviting ethereal groans

It's never the falling that kills you, my dear,
it's always the landing, drawing so near
my conscious abandoned, my thoughts torn apart
do I leap from these heights to death do outsmart?

My balcony thoughts all awhirl in my head
come to the conclusion I'm better off dead
a king with no kingdom a queen with no quail
I fly seventeen stories from my dark fairytale

Well, hey
Here I am again
At 3:48 in the morning
......Again
Just like last night, and the night before....and the night before that and the night before that and-
Well I think you get the picture
But, do you?
Some people laugh when I say I can't sleep
I mean they actually laugh and say
"Have you tried counting sheep?"
Hey....
It's me....again
At 3:48 in the morning....
Again
But if counting sheep solved my problem of sleep then
I wouldn't be counting each heartbeat
Continuing counting each heartbeat
Continuously considering counting countless seconds of heartbeats
I wouldn't be staring at the walls listening
To the crickets in the walls
And the crickets and the crickets and the crickets and the-
That everyone tells me aren't there
And I can see faces in the moonlight and....
Hey....
It's me.....again
At 3:48 in the morning.....again
And I wouldn't pace the room like a caged bird before the sunrise flutters its wings
And I wouldn't memorize the pattern of the cracks in the ceiling
-did you know the one above my head turns right every two and a half inches?-
And the shadows woven into the carpet
And the symphony of the darkness
If I could count sheep now would I?
Do you think I enjoy lying awake at night
Waiting for the break of day
Because then its okay....
Not to sleep
And my mind I buzzing like a swarm of bees
And I'm reading the book of all my past wrongs
Like a Shakespearean sonnet
Like a tragedy
Hey......
its me.....again
At 3:48 in the morning.....
Again...
And it could be anxiety laugh
Hell I wouldn't be surprised
But I march to the drum of insomnia now
The battle hewn recesses of my brain
Crying out for mercy
But there is no white flag
And
The sheep never come
Because if I could count the herd
Then I would not memorize the cracks in the wall
Or the ticking of clock
I wouldn't compose symphonies
In time with the whirring of the fan or the drunk shouting
From outside my window
Because when you close your eyes sometimes everything sounds like music
Falling harmonies and subtle innuendos of
Sleep to come
But......
If I could close my eyes
If I could count sheep instead of heartbeats
If I could stop pacing the track in the floor
If the crickets in the wall didn't keep me up
Then...
I wouldn't be up at 3:48 in the morning
Well, hey
Here I am again
At 3:48 in the morning
......Again

My heart is a powder keg
Rigged with so much tnt that I'm afraid
Each war beat might be my last
Because inside, my walls are cracking
On the stairwell to my brain there are cobwebs
Dusted with the dew of my despair
And
In the caverns and cellars of my heart
There are walls built so high and so strong that no one could ever hope to scale them
Behind those walls there are locks on every door, but the locks are rusted over now with the hatred that my last love has shown me and the walls have cracks in them and cobwebs hang from their corners
And the only thing they guard now is an empty room
As each breath rattles in my ribcage I am reminded of you, of the mortality we desperately cling to like the fabricated
Illusion of love
And as your touch drips from my fingertips and your name wails at my lips
I want you to know that it was you
It was always you
How am I supposed to move on
When every move I make moves me one more move closer to the edge
When every step, everything I see
The raindrops falling from the sky and the
Thunder howling in the clouds enacting the
rage I cannot allow myself to feel
The sunrise in the morning
The ******* buttons on my phone
And the ******* shirt on my back
Remind me of you
And I don't go around with a neon sign
Proclaiming warning labels
Like grocery store recipts
Keeping track of how many times
Ive been broken and repaired with tacky second rate stitches
and the stories of my past don't have a happily ever after
So......
Learn me slowly
Please
Be patient with my pages
And I'm trying not to write another stupid poem about heartbreak but clearly that's not working so well
Because lately that's all I can write about
And there's only about a million ways I can say
Goodbye

Tentacles soft of sunlight
Die slowly o'er raven hill
Silent ghostly whispers of mem'ries long since past and till
Creep quiet, hushed, and broken
Dragging limbs of silver and gold
Through bloodied strands of spider's web
Spun of forgotten dreams of old
Where kings and giants fought till death
And misty dragons roar
There my dear you shall find me
nye amongst the crashing sea but
Amidst the wheat grass long
Listening in total silence
While the crickets song their song

It is quiet here
in this creaking house
no whispers in the night of dead
the hallways of my sculpted heart
are splintered broken close ahead
the floorboards shake
as my demons make
their triumph known to man
and in my walls of
flesh and bone
cemented with the shattered wish
of those once loved
i am alone

I have a theory
Woven together with the last remnants of hope that I cling to in order to save myself from drowning
Tied tightly by the bonds I my past to my present
Stitched closed by metal staples and blue plastic
So read between the lines
Between the grand canyons of my self destruction
Behind the cliff faces of the masks I wear
Underneath the torrents of my youth
The theory itself is simple
the execution is anything but
It burns through my veins like wildfire
Scorching all life in its path
And like a tsunami wipes any
trace of my existence from the cragged face of this planet
This planet that has squandered my hope
and preyed upon my raw insecurities like a parasite
When in reality I am the parasite
feeding off of the land I praise
******* the nutrients from life as it drains the life from me like a waterfall
I drown in its depths
In its fury
In its suicidal twisted rage that feels nothing
cares nothing for those it swallows whole
And like the summer months
before my time
I am gone