Was it ever even real,
If the love was just a drug.
That I grabbed just to feel,
In the grave that you dug.

I really thought you were pure,
Wanted me for me.
Just to be each others cure,
But I didn’t see.

How bad it would **** me up,
The regret it would leave.
I’d be permanently marked up,
Pain that nothing can relieve.

You saved me and ruined me,
So can I really be mad.
You saved my life technically,
But I’m not even glad.

You should have let me go then,
And dissapear from everyone forever.
But then you wouldn’t be able to **** with me again,
So you kept bringing me back to ***** me over.

I wish to believe, That I will heal.
Get over my **** depression, Maybe some joy I will feel.
But, good things come, And I temporarily feel great.
But then it's quickly gone, There goes my peaceful state.
Sometimes life gets brighter, I begin to rise from my hell.
But inevitably the fire reaches, And drags me back to its dwell.
So should I even bother, To fight the monster called depression.
When it will always be there, Continue being my minds obsession.

Will I ever recover?
From what you put me through?
Will I ever become a lover?
Or is that ruined too?

Will I forever be broken?
From what you said to me?
Will I eventually have forgotten?
Or is this just destiny?

Why is it that even now?
After months of no contact?
You still affect me somehow?
Every thought you still impact?

Why are you part of my history?
Why did you put me through this?
Why can’t I forget already?
Is this just how it is?

I see the girl spaced out
Lost in her world

I see the boy who got scars
But laughs at everyone’s jokes

I see the loner falling behind
Wishing to be noticed

I see the life of the party
Distracting from his loneliness

I see the person reading this
Lost in poetry about death

I see the friendly girl
Always seems to be smiling

I long to write beautiful words,
That convey love and things like birds.
Poetry inspired by life,
Stories and tales of overcoming strife.

Instead, the words flow from darkness,
Metaphors oozing harshness.
Words inspired by pain and death.
Conveying my struggles through every shallow breath.

Songs and ballads about glowing angels,
Not demons and monsters portraying dangers.
Hopefully, one day flowers will start to sprout,
From the dying fire, I only knew about.

Words of life and glittering hope,
Emerging from darkness, my blindness will grow.
Music of old heartbreak transforming slowly,
Echoing through my paper and healing mellowly.

Always chasing distraction,
Running to keep ahead.
Always to my next action,
My thoughts I still dread.

Studying till I can not,
And then wanting to get drunk.
Thoughts disappear shot by shot,
So I won’t get in a funk.

My feet start to tire,
I sit and breathe.
The thoughts consume me like fire,
Blazing and burning through me.

I try and get up fast,
To escape my own thoughts.
To avoid my harsh past,
But they keep up their taunts.

We all need someone.
When we just feel done.
When we are left with no one.
When there’s no one left.
When I’m upset,
I turn to my pet.
My bunny, always stays.
Beside me and lays.
Comforting me through the days.
Looks up into my eye.
Whenever I cry,
Till my eyes dry.