I am not feeling well does not just mean the temperature you see on that thermometer,
it also means my body and it's burning desire to no longer be alive
I am not feeling well does not just mean my head feels heavy and I want to sleep,
it also means my heart is sinking to my feet and i physically feel it in my veins
I am not feeling well does not just mean I need a painkiller to take away the pain,
it also means i am dying to reach for the blade and tear my skin apart to feel something
I am not feeling well does not just mean the food I ate is making me feel like throwing up,
it also means my entire existence makes me sick to the point of death
I am not feeling well does not just mean I will feel better after I take this nap,
it also means i will take nap after nap after nap after nap hoping to feel alive again
I am not feeling well does not just mean my joints hurt and I need to slow down
it also means my body is tired of fighting a losing battle and i give up

because some days,
i wear my depression and
some days,
*my depression wears me

I can see myself dying
But that's not the sad part
The scary part is that i don't see anyone beside my death-bed during my final moments
I don't see anyone missing me
Remembering me
Or even turning up at my burial...
...which makes me ask myself
Who was i living for so many years?
Why was i living?
How did i survive for so many years?
What was the purpose of my existence?
Did i actually ever live?
Who am i?
What is my identity?
What have i done?
I'm trying real hard to find an answer to all of these powerful questions
But all i'm coming up with is a big blank
And slowly but surely i'm learning about the non-existence of my existence
I must confess that to me this is quite a rude reminder of my insipid life
I had such high hopes from life
Where did all those fancy and delightful dreams disappear?
Those so-called friends,well-wishers and lovers..where are they?
So all this while the carrot that was dangling in front of me..never actually existed
This is really hard to take
Life...you are so unfair
What did i ever do to **** you off?

in past lives,
my heart was a corn maze with no end
and I wandered aimlessly
searching for answers and explanations
to questions I did not know existed

I viewed life through a kaleidoscope
of blurred colors and fine lines
that could never be crossed,
fixated at stars whenever I kept my head up
for a little longer than necessary
in order to catch a glimpse
of hopes falling faster than my eyelids could
drop to tango,
at the end of a dizzying afternoon

All I really wanted was a sign.
I just wanted somebody to tell me to try.
And then when no one did,
I realized that only I could decide;
to either live my life or just wait to die.

Poetry is opening old wounds
For the sake of healing another's
Poetry is recrying old tears
For the ability to wipe another's

Poetry is revisiting old exes
To help inspire a broken heart
Poetry is writing out of love even though you're alone
So that another love won't fall apart

Poetry is many things
From a hobby, to medicine, to therapy
But to me poetry is passion expressed
And the best kind of healing, one in which you create, and into it others can invest