this depression
grips me like the rope thats soon to **** me
it's visible in my blank ****** expression
nothing is going to cure me
no one with a title, forget your medical profession
I believe its passed down genetically, chronological succession
but I don’t have my elders' strength, I’m choosing secession
leaving this place
but don’t call it regression,
because I own sole possession
of the knowledge that this life never gets better,
now do you understand? reading comprehension?
I became a master at hiding these feelings, skillful repression
and no I was never happy, there's my confession
how's that for a first impression?
in a world filled with prejudicial oppression and money hungry obsession
we’re G-d's material possession
unfortunately all the others will look on, intentional indiscretion
so yes, blame yourself, and discuss all the things you could've changed at my funeral procession
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC
A balloon cast astray by the wavering hand of a child
Who wishes to know the latex orb filled with helium can fly
But in the moment of segregation between the tips of his small fingers and the floating object's delicate string
He discovers regret for the first time in his short life
The feeling that will haunt him far past his young years and into adulthood
Yet, it's only in these latter years of his life
That he'll also discover he is envious of his abilities as a boy
For he could let go then, easier than ever
And today, he is forced to grasp his wife's bony fingers with a wrinkled hand of his own
As today, the only delicate strings in life are the wires and tubes that travel through her
In this moment he realizes he must travel back in time
To relearn how to release his balloon
As he wishes for nothing more than to let her fly in peace
But he doesn't possess the strength to watch her float away
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
I have used all the energy left in my gaunt body to escape this bed
Now I travel down steps that creak with noises of our past love as we wore them out by always racing each other up them to get here
Now I trudge down these stairs, alone, into the kitchen as I let the white french doors swing open to let the spring breeze join me
The wind recoils off of my pale face as I hold the cheesy tourist coffee mug that still bares your lipstick on its brim
I return back to the table where I find the morning newspaper with a date on it that reveals I haven't left the house in quite some time
And I flip to the crossword puzzle that apparently you solved many weeks ago, but the clues are hidden as I now recall the day your pen exploded in boisterous blue ink and we laughed together as we scrubbed each other's hands
Sink water splashed all over and ruined your flowing white gown, but that was no issue as we danced like it was raining and my hand creeped along your collarbone onto your shoulder, until you slapped it away because it was time for work
After brief lapses of intoxicating joy, the color in the walls and outside the windows oozes down Earth's canvas to uncover the true flavor or black and gray that surround me
It's in this return to reality that I utilize my lasts bits of sanity and avoid the sleeping pills to enter back into my slumber
I make my way back up the hollowed-out steps that are void of love, and collapse back into this bed as I drown in it's disturbingly comfortable sheets and pillows
In a few hours I'll arise again to trudge down to the kitchen and see if you're there, smiling, singing, solving strenuous puzzles with your immeasurable skill
And on the precipice of madness, the brink of lunacy, I'll whisper your name so I can stop tip-toeing along the boarder of suicide
For in these repeating nightmares, my balance has grown weary, and for moments my only desire is to join you beneath society, and into the great beyond
Goodnight
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 2:28 PM UTC
the dark chimney howls
with lonely winds invading
robbing innocence
i hear sadness now
listening to flames crackle
incinerating
this winter evening
it is so **** depressing
i'm disappearing
with bright amber sparks
incapsulating black death
in recurring tears
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
come with thee,
into black,
forget thy purpose,
remember thy lack,
scour in loneliness ,
unforgiving winds,
lose thy dreams,
and sensation in thy limbs.
thou shalt not sleep as thou recall all of thy sin,
f'r its the strongest curse in all ye' land,
not the black death, n'r thy's measles,
rath'r its depression, the sickness of thy people,
f'r a man hath nay choice but to give in,
as he hang beneath the churches steeple,
he pens a letter about the illness, warning thy people,
as he explains it'll nev'r defer
you will nev'r be able to feel again,
as im damn'd to announce there is nay cure.
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
Fluorescent lights
Above a hospital bed
Monotone sound, dead
I love you brother
Listen closely to my words
Your soul remains lit
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
let us wage a war
with our patterned syllables
you're next, it's loaded
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
my body is boiled down to liquid
creamy with memories and sharp with tears
you take in the bitter drink to forget your woes
by digesting all of mine
i am the alcohol
all the pictures that you've thrown
every piece of clothing with seams and strands exposed
all the nights when you've gone home feeling so alone
its at this hour all those drinks have lost their trick
and you're curled up into your bed listening to the clock as it ticks
becoming fixed on its pattern and rhythm until thats all that you know
you count every second as you begin to show
your true form once outer skin sheds in a horrifying transformation
and your eyes lose their grip on liquid sanity
you've regressed to weeping child
your underdeveloped mind has made a poor decision
and your small liver cannot process this many pills
your death will come as shocking and traumatizing to many
they'll drink to forget their woes
going home yet another night alone
listening to their clock as it ticks
wishing they could hold onto you now
rather than a bottle of a temporary fix
as they count the seconds since they've heard you laugh
they look up at their ceiling fan
and feel so empty
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
sunday is the loneliest day
you are left with your thoughts
in pew's as you pray
or in bed's as you lay
either way
sunday is the loneliest day
at any given moment
the dams of your eyes may give way
as streams of helplessness roll in liquid gray
because many sundays ago i asked you to stay
yet you showed no signs of human compassion as you walked away
it was like you possessed no emotion
looking on at me with an empty face
this was when my own heart began to decay
and as time has passed
i understand why you had nothing to say
because someone had done the same thing to you and that is okay
so while you may not be thinking of me to this day
i know you'll at least agree
sunday is the loneliest day
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 5:10 PM UTC
She was born 7 pounds 7 ounces
So clean and beautiful
Untouched from the dirt of the earth and the corruption of society
The stars shined so brightly for this one
Riveting mountain hills and green valleys beamed when they heard the news
The ocean's tides grew momentous and spilled over the beaches in joy
Nature had gained another unstained soul
The sun selfishly, but necessarily, tried to shield this one from the elements of others
The pain and the suffering
The sadness and the melancholy
The sun couldn’t see another one of earth’s babies grow up to become lifeless
For the sun would not allow the moon to take another
Another baby that belonged to the moon’s dangerous night sky
The moon reeled in these children with the promise of a sky painted with glimmering stars that could spell out your name
And brighter lights that shined adjacent to tall buildings in a buzzing city
But this was merely the moon’s treacherous trick
And the rain was in on it as well
For once the moon gained a follower
The rain would join in
Buckets of liquid depression would pour and pour from gray skies as they broke through the clouds that couldn't hold the weight of sadness anymore
Then these children would sleep while the sun bared its face and heat
And become insomniacs when the moon would reveal itself
This way, they’d be forced to look into its lonely face all night
And realize themselves how forlorn they were as well
So now they crave the color of night forever
They wish to see the color black eternally
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was born 7 pounds 7 ounces
And was retuned back to the Earth within 17 years
The knotted roots that brought her down thanked the moon
*It was so cloudy that day
The sun was nowhere to be found*
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 5:10 PM UTC