and I keep searching for poems to say the words that I cannot, but the poetry inside my head does not exist underneath the pen of anyone else.

So, I will keep writing until I run out of thoughts or breath - whichever comes first.

people don't settle for the physical.
they want your heart,
your soul,
your energy,
your time.

people don't settle for what's underneath your skin.
they want your words,
your touch,
your eyes on them only.

people don't settle for what's real.
they want angels,
gods,
super humans.
the ones who don't have limits.
the ones you can never fathom.

poetry lets go
what
the body
can no
longer hold.

my name is depression
and i will drag your soul across your bedroom floor and hear you scream for help

my name is depression
and i will dig every blood vessel out of your heart until you are bare and empty, cold and silent

my name is depression
and i will run down your face as you try and explain the demon inside of you to people who do not understand

my name is depression
and i will eat your laughter, run my hands down your happiness and choke you with my scrawny fingers as you beg for air

my name is depression
and i will walk you home tonight, crawl into your bed and sit next to you as you contemplate your fall down this 23 storey building

my name is depression



*and i won't stop