I don't feel special,
I'm not unique. I want to cry but I can't even speak. My hands reach out, but they cannot hold a single thing but the bitter cold. Everything's frozen, I feel lost. Even my tears have turned to frost. When I cut my waist it bleeds black. I'm so deeply gone there's no way back. This is goodbye
My heart leaks through my fingertips
and drips onto the page. There is pain, hurt and there is despair, I can't put on a pretty face. When I was trapped in the ground, he made it feel like I could fly. But his love is different, because it came with a price. Soon I learned that flying... it's impossible. An **** truth hid behind a gorgeous lie. We weren't indecomposable. Black liquid flows from my eyes, I remember when they were clear. But when I look in the mirror, the worst has come - I fear. Though everything feels dead, I am still alive. My soul feels like it's burning. This is what it means to die inside.
There are mountains on my back,
and it hurts like **** to carry them. I was supposed to only climb... but I never really was one for climbing.
I wish that I could bring you back,
to that one point in time. So that I could kiss your forehead and tell you it'll all be fine. To hold your hand in mine, and wipe away your tears. But when I reach out to find you, All I can grasp is my deepest fear... The fear that you're gone. The kind of gone that you can't come back from. I blame it on myself, and drown it all in ***. You would have been here when I broke my own heart. You wouldn't have done what I did, you wouldn't have let me part. I betrayed you. And now I need you. But all I have is your tombstone and I fear my life has taken on a dark hue. I want to touch your face, be there for each other one last time. Now all I can do is pace and wish I was there to say goodbye.
What is depression?
Well... It's not always so obvious. Depression hides It's staying up until 4 a.m without a reason. Depression is crying until your pillow is soaked without really knowing why. When your heart is hurting so bad, you can FEEL the pain in your chest. It's not always a knife dragged on once pure skin. Depression isn't the cut, it's the darkness that hides within. It's knowing that one day you'l be happy, but not knowing if you'll get there in time to save yourself to save your mind. Depression is hoping you'll be okay, but not believing happiness is in your future. It's wanting to cry out for help but not knowing what you need help with. It hides in anxiety, and shows itself in smiles. It'll lie to your face and you'll believe it. We all do.
I roll over in the mornings,
and your face is no longer there. I reach out to touch what used to be, but my fingers are greeted by empty air. When I pull the blankets up, there's a hint of your once lively cologne. And now, when I'm cold at night, I pull the comforter up to my nose, so I'm not alone.
i hate this stream of consciousness style
like nothing i write has meter rhythm or rhyme. it’s just my thoughts on paper all jumbled up; not even i can make sense of it.