I mean, I've been writing these poems to you and i have no idea who you are;
what's your name, what you look like, where you're from.
It's the strangest thing, I write like I know you but we've never met.
I guess you could say we're on the same wavelength or some ****;
as if our depression sends vibrations through the universe that other people like us can pick up on
but why? And I know you're not writing back, or are you?

Could we be so ****** in the head that we're writing to each other
with absolute certainty to talk like we understand each other's problems?
Or what if everyone else just doesn't see what we see?
And if these poems apply to you then I know you see it too.

We don't see the forest for the trees because we don't see the forest or the trees.
We see life. Our frame of mind is bigger than the bigger picture
and you mean to tell me you see us as picture perfect;
when our picture doesn't fit the frame of mind that would make our picture worth it?
Never
We'd be outcasts, but isn't that what we're accustomed to?
Because we don't look at the stars and see the void of space or the lights so bright
We see a future so inexplicably euphoric that it can't be contained by the brightest day or blackest nights

It's like I ******* saw you, maybe in a dream maybe in a nightmare I don't know which
or maybe it was in real life cuz we both know reality is a *****.
and my subconscious just clung to you like a spatiotemporal tick
and you took me on this odyssey that's why whenever I fall I always trip

See?
There I go talking about you like I know you...again.
But I do know you. Not yet, but you know what I mean
And that means you know me too, so let me clear up a few things

I'm not your prince charming, and I can never save you.
I'm not stable enough to help you and I'm sorry that's just the plain truth.
I am the word unstable personified, I snap for no reason.
But you already knew that so what's the point in me continuing to type?
Because what I am is here. waiting. just like you; and i know you're waiting too.
Which is why I write these because when we exchange these poems you'll be assured of the undeniable truth;
simply that, I love you.

I don't even know you and you've already helped me through three nights so far.
So forgive me if I rush into love but the thought of you is the only thing keeping me sane.
I hope I do the same for you, or maybe I'm setting myself up for disappointment.
but to each other, I know we're worth it because we've been waiting this long.

I know you're not in heaven
No.
The angels don't understand.
All they want is for you to conform to what they were raised to believe
come to church, go to God, and eat your vegetables.
Platitudes won't save me and neither will your optimism.

No, you're a demon like I am.
we don't like chaos but it finds us,
and we don't care because it excites us.
The peace we do find is robbed from us, by laws, bonds and expectations
when the laws are overturned, bonds broken and expectations shattered.
There'll just be us;
loners with the minds of stoners finally accepted by the blissful chaos that awaits us

Just you and I
I don't know who or where you are, or what you're going through.
But I know you're there, because this pain isn't isolated.
I know there are other people who hurt like me, and you're one of them.
But we'll always be alone, even united we're alienated
They call us "patients" but they mean demons, they treat us like a virus.
And it's so heartbreaking because you're my Salem when I open my eyelids.
I mean, you would be, if you were here.

Until then all we have is hope for the future and for each other.
Maybe you're already here and simply undercover,
but until your true side and true nature I discover;
I'll be here, dead on the inside but still fighting to be a lover

Heaven or hell, I'm faced with an ultimatum.
Pick a side and stick with it until your final day comes;
but for whatever reason an eternal fire doesn't scare me
and it doesn't help that i don't have a grasp of eternity.

But Heaven or Hell i'm kinda split down the middle,
because the world and it's pleasures are too much fun to belittle.
But what we don't or can't see is always in the back of my mind;
like what if i leave this earth, quote unquote, before my time.
am i gonna walk up to heaven's gate pleading for my soul
or just hope that i die when I'm ready, when I'm more than old?

If I choose Heaven then I give up my pleasures
for a supposed afterlife that's beyond any measure.
Give up this, give up that, quit this and read your bible
because your depression can be solved by stories about these 12 disciples

If I choose Hell then I enjoy these pleasures
in exchange eternal pain and suffering supposedly beyond measure.
But I can do this, do that, drink this and smoke this joint
but if I die tomorrow then what would've been the point

Heaven or hell i just wanna be myself,
just wanna live my life be different from the rest.
But is my individuality gonna cost me an afterlife?
Cuz if so, i guess you might as well just pass the knife;
because how else am i supposed to deal with depression?
I guess i took writing as my only form of expression;
so if you take away anything i say, i wanna leave you with this message.

"Heaven or Hell, you and I don't get a resurrection
once we're gone that's it, done, pay for your transgressions.
but don't be afraid, i'm here we'll accept it,
that no matter Heaven or Hell we'll always be God's perfect imperfections"

I woke up to a world that wasn't my usual reality. The colors were darker, the sounds were deafening, and everything that exists annoys me. As if all of a sudden just being alive drained me of all my energy. At times it stopped me from walking, but it really hit me when i went to the bathroom.

You ever look at your reflection and see yourself, but it wasn't you?
I saw my face. But behind my eyes was another person, another soul, another demon. One that i didn't recognize.
It could be me, another side buried deep down underneath all of the pointless optimism i've used to hide years of negativity. Whatever it is it scared the **** out of me. It's like my reflection was about to ****** me deep into the pit of  pessimistic lamentation he crawled out of. All my evils, all my repressions, all my failures, and more importantly, all my anger was staring me right in my face. And he came to let me know that he was in charge now. I'd always fought that "evil" voice in the back of my mind but i'd never seen him. Now that i'm looking him eye to eye, I really had to fight him this time, but.....i couldn't.
he looked me dead in my face and said "i'm already here". My heart sunk. Because for the first time in my life i was scared and couldn't do **** about it. I felt so helpless. You can't fight yourself. Can you? Because if he is me, then what i've been fighting all these years is inside me. So this "Evil" I've been rejecting isn't a possibilty, it's an inevitability.
If it is, pray that the hellfire isn't too hot