Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Noah Stowe Jan 2017
Your beauty is unfathomable
Your knowledge is uncountable
Your love is unforgettable
Your protection is unimaginable
Noah Stowe Dec 2016
Je t'aime.
Ma vie est plus belle avec toi.
Tu es la lumière de ma vie.
Tu as ma coeur.
Je t'aime.
J'ai ta coeur.
Nous sommes tombés en amour.
Tu es mienne,
Et je t’appartiens.
Je t'aime.
Pour ma petite amie.
Noah Stowe Nov 2016
TRIGGER WARNING**
Parallel lines
Running forever
I found a friend that will stay next to me like those lines
Those beautiful, thin parallel lines
Running on and on
A deep reminder of my life
The lovely lines that match the colour of the pretty girl's lips
The pain isn't felt when the friend leaves
But rather is painful when present
Some say my friend is terrible
But I defend my friends no matter what.
And likewise, I will protect my friend
The blade.
Noah Stowe Oct 2016
(Five parts, all are listed here.)
War
My mind battles my body
Tearing apart the threads of what I live for
An eternal fight that can never be won
Time running out
Nothing seems to save me
Part of me wanting to live
Part of me wanting to die
Neither side winning
Yet neither side losing.
And time is the only constant.
But time is the thing I have the least of
Time is the thing that I’m losing
And no matter what I do,
The war is always raging.
The battle never ending.
And that’s the way my life feels.
A constant battle of good and bad.
A constant battle of the will to live
And the will to die.

Famine
I dream of happiness
Yet everything good
Is torn away from me
By depression
Never feeling good enough
But needing something
To hold onto.
The hunger of that thing
Rips into my heart
Gnawing on my soul
Eating everything it can reach.
But nothing satisfies its appetite.
Of the thing it needs most.
So I let it consume me
Sense I can’t control it.
No matter what I do.

Pestilence
Depression leaks into my soul.
It covers every part of me with a black, consuming acid.
It wants to steal me away slowly.
But it isn’t merciful enough to finish the task.
And it isn’t merciful enough to surface to the outside.
Where others can see it.
So it consumes my soul,
My mind,
My body.
And enjoys my suffering.
The darkness fills every corner of my body.
And filters out the light.
Taking my body over so even I can’t control it.
Using myself against me.
Showing me my weaknesses but not my strengths.
And somehow, I’m still here despite the mental disease worse than any physical one.
Because it can’t be cured with any antidote, no matter how strong.
No matter what I do, the darkness seems to win.

Death
My heart has stopped working
It doesn’t care about beating, the darkness has already stopped it from wanting and willing to live.
My brain has stopped thinking
The darkness won’t let it think anything but thoughts of darkness, why think when you can’t.
My face has stopped smiling
Nobody believes it anyways, the darkness can’t be seen, but my laugh has already been terminated.
My soul has stopped living
It has no reason to, not when the darkness has stolen its faith of a new beginning.
My body has stopped sleeping
Why sleep when all your dreams are filled with nightmares, when all your nights are restless to begin with?
My mind has stopped caring
It doesn’t need to, not when the darkness has already shown it that each thing it loved can be lost.
My eyes have stopped crying
Why cry when you have nothing left to care about? When everything you loved has left?
My body has grown limp
Why move when you have no reason to live?
My body is just a machine.
I’ve become a mindless automaton controlled by the dark depression I’ve fallen into.
My fingers have stopped typing
Why type when you’ve nothing to say? When the words run dry, when everything you say is just mindless babbling?
Why live when you can’t?
Why live when you’ve already died to begin with?

The Angel
The darkness has filled me.
I’m close to the end.
One more step and I’m gone.
One more step and it’s over.
But then there is a light.
A light more beautiful than any other.
More vibrant than the sun.
A star is nothing compared to the way the light shone.
And the angel approached me.
It tried to remove the darkness.
It couldn’t.
No matter how it tried.
So instead, it comforted me.
But the angel was whisked away from me.
Right as the darkness was losing its strength.
And so I was forced to watch the angel leave.
My angel. My hope. My love, removed from me.
The thing that gave me light in the darkness was taken away.
The end of my tunnel was closed off.
Each poem has its own writing style to match the Horsemen or the Angel. The Angel represents the hope I was given to escape depression, but it was taken away from me.
Noah Stowe Oct 2016
Swallow a pill.
Fake a smile.
Repeat.
Swallow a pill.
Fake a smile.
Repeat.
The endless motions of my life
No hopes of ending
No hopes of really feeling happy
Swallow a pill.
Fake a smile.
Repeat.
Continuous proceedures
It still doesn't work
Increase the dosage
Swallow a pill.
Fake a smile.
Repeat.
Repeating into eternity
Like a car in a tunnel, looking for the light
Hoping to leave the dark space
Swallow a pill.
Fake a smile.
Repeat.
They still don't work
It's my fault
Continue no matter what
Swallow a pill.
Fake a smile.
Repeat.
The endless task needs to stop
I forget
I let go
Fake a smile.
Repeat.
Maybe I should just let things go.
Force a smile no matter how fake.
Repeat.
It's not working.
They see right through me.
Maybe I'll try something else.
Don't fake a smile.
Don't force a laugh.
Suddenly, they see me.
But now it's my fault, not the pill.
Noah Stowe Oct 2016
My heart has stopped working
My brain has stopped thinking
My face has stopped smiling
My soul has stopped living
My body has stopped sleeping
My mind has stopped caring
My fingers have stopped typing
My eyes have stopped crying
My body has grown limp
My body is just a machine
It goes on.
Somehow it goes on,
Even though the pieces are broken.
It still goes on.
The gears aren't oiled.
And yet it keeps going.
And no mechanic has been able to fix it.
So I continue going through life
Like a broken machine.
Noah Stowe Oct 2016
Imagine a person that is dead
Imagine their eyes rolled back in their head
Imagine their lifeless body without any heat
Imagine their heart that no longer beats
Imagine their brain that no longer thinks
Imagine their eyes that no longer blink.
Imagine their body, lifeless and dead.

Now look me in the eyes and you'll  realize that not every dead person is concealed behind a coffin lid.
Next page