Can your world be close to mine?
To stare at the night sky to expect
the broken promises turn into explosions
of nebulas that into new worlds.
Back then I wanted to see you
your face in the crowd so I can jump down
and hold you like I used to.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 10:04 PM UTC
I feel gulped down Into a world that has nothing around
you go downtown where the walls are deep brown and see nothing but a play ground
And yet when I look into those caramel brown eyes I can’t help but get a nervous breakdown
As if I should belong in the upside-down, being the clown that’s crown for best frown because my emotions have been drowned from me. Nothing I do has ever been renowned if anything it did nothing but knock down the people I love and maybe that’s why i live in this ghost town. it ***** when you have to count all the sounds in your room and try to drown them into this noise of a large monotone so it wouldn’t surround your ears where your tears are forming in your brown eyes heading towards the ground, where you often stare when you walk around town.
As you can tell I suffer from depression. And I’m sure I’m not giving the best first impression, that sometimes I feel like I have to give this confession or else I’ll repress all this aggression that will later progress into a concern for a health profession. That all these intersection on my arms isn’t because of some ******** possession, it is because I am unfortunately depressed. And it ***** because sometimes you have these questions hoping you can find your answers. And then this becomes this odd obsession where you seek out progression to figure out what the hell is going on in your **** head. So you go into this skull session, seeking out what you need to figure out. So you pick out all your imperfections and going on this journey like the movie inception and soon enough you realized that all your thoughts, emotions, and **** storms melt downs was an infection that just invades your head and rejects all your connection with people at work, the people you love, the people at school. The ones you love, the ones you work with, the ones at school. See what I mean it ***** you have this deception of people believing no one will love you, it’s depressing to have to remind yourself constantly you have connection with people. We doubt ourselves too much.
I think it’s awareness, that’s the key. In all fairness people with depression don’t often look it. it comes in so many shapes and forms and that we would have to look out its whereness. People with depression are restless at night, thinking too too much about how undeserving they are. Feeling breathless all the time as if they’re drowning despite having nothing but air around them. They’re careful when they hide their scars, their tears, their emotions because sometimes they’re selfless and they don’t want to hurt anyone else. We always ignore our own wellness, but we can’t help it.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 7:45 AM UTC
Phony.
I hate these phony conversations-
To keep up to date with everyone
Just to add more people to your relations
Honestly, these are the people I make fun
Of, and of course. Maybe it is a bit overdone.
That I’m complaining about this
And that I’m poking fun- so to each one
Shut the **** up and take a ****
Call me a Caulfield, tsk tsk.
But why waste your breath on being fake?
To be deaf about school, majors, friendships, and summers, god it’d be bliss
Because everytime I hear one it gives me a **** headache
So while you make phony friendships I’m gonna flake,
Because personally I don’t find relationships like pennies,
Then you’re gonna finally realize that it’s all fake
While I’m certain I’ll have people in my twenties
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 2:38 PM UTC
Something so little can hold my life
An orange cylinder, the size of my palm.
A bunch of mini ovals that can make me sleep in no time
A handful of them, going down my throbbing throat, have never made me so calm.
Oh, how I wished I could change my mind
But this sad life of mine is something I can not bare.
Oh, how I wish I could give myself some more time
But this woe is all I am in this air.
And here I lay in tight space filled with water
My arms numbed with red
Finally I’ll be depression’s martyr.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 9:18 PM UTC
Day by day
I can feel my limbs, stretching out.
Who’s this murderer, you may ask? Its name is Life.
24 hours, 12 months, and 365 days! This murderer has committed a crime on at least all of the world’s population
Drowning them in their sorrows and reluctant cries, yet no one has notice “life”.
They don’t even know that it’s the main killer.
Elders and children in poverty,
the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer.
The comforting lies of peace, hope, and help are at no use.
Day by day
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 5:02 PM UTC
These vivid dreams are all but a tale,
I can not understand why I was given such a tease.
The dreams of happiness floating in my system
diminished, as if he was playing a trick on me.
Just one reason, a purpose, a little one in fact!
That’s all I need to continue, walking on this musty world.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
For the sake of you and I,
I will forget and forgive.
For the sake of your health and mine,
I will hide my knives and my cancer sticks.
For the sake of our pain,
I’ll move to the sideline while you’re free like a bird.
For the sake of your happiness,
I’ll be six feet beneath the ground.
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC