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  20h Chelsea Rae
Mims
And I am holding hands with my depression while it screams into a microphone
It's used to being center stage
The center of attention
Poking, proding
I'll kiss my love on the lips and it'll tug at my shirt whispering
"I'm still here"

It'll grab at me on car rides
Pinch my walking down the street
Make my nose bleed in bookstores
Break my fingers in urban outfitters
"I'm still here"
"I'm still here!"
"I'M STILL HERE!!"
Slowly getting louder as I try to push it down

Sometimes I muffle it
Quiet it
But I can never completely silence it
My hand slips
And a battle cry is released into the night
the duct tape wasn't tight enough
Or maybe my grip

I guess I stopped kicking it eventually
Stopped fighting it
Stop tying it
It was
The thing I kept in my basement but instead of me trying to make it stay and it trying to escape
it fought me to be cemented in my mind
taking all my resources starving me emotionally

Maybe sometimes physically

I accepted that it was a part of me

I let sing to me
Occasionally
After all
We're both in the basement
And we're

bored

It would sing things
Hopeless,
Frantic,
Scary things

They don't like you
There isn't a point in breathing it's mundane, it's uninteresting

You have hurt so many people and been hurt by so many people you're beginning to forget where the line is
And which side you're on


If she knew you now
She'd be disappointed
But she's dead
She died before you tried to let her learn who you grew into


They'll all die

You'll die

We are all just putting off the inevitable
Isolate yourself


You know you're happier alone
You know he doesnt really love you
So stop answering the phone



One night
My depression took out a knife
And slit her thighs
I was asleep but she bled on me all night
And in my dreams

I knew the warmth was from tragedy

Though I never bled with her
I let her keep me red

Keep me angry

"You'll never have a dad!" she yells.

"You'll never go away"
I frown at the shriveled little body of memories and chemical imbalances and tubes and guts and hearts and other dismembered parts
And I think

I've known you for so long
But i've never really looked at you

I am surprised
How different
How separate
We are

You grab me
Poke me
Yell at me
Hold me
Hurt me

But you

Are not

Attached to






                                 Me.
This poem could've gone so many different ways, but this is how it ended up.
Under the skin
and past the flab
there's  a set of
six pack abs

Scars and deformities
just cosmetic things
past that there's wit and class
the spirit, soul, has wings

The surface just a prelude too
a beauty that's unseen
personality, and humor
not drab, but perhaps
just a touch
obscene
:D Hey, we all shine underneath! ;D
I think ****, starts, at the bones.
I've tried to explain
That my lungs
No longer inflate.

I don't have enough air
To even try to resuscitate.
I'm on oxygen support now
And you don't even care.

I'm sick of desperately gasping for just one breath of fresh air
Because I have nothing left.
All because I breathed life into someone else.
All because I was sacrificing my health.
Sacrificing myself.
I can't save anyone anymore. I can only save myself.
She jump started my heart

and even though

in the process

the connected wires fried,

I will never forget the woman who saved my life.
You are the reason I am living to my fullest potential.
Reach into the nothingness
With an outstretched arm Inquisitorial
And pull a star down from the sky
A scar from the skin
Or the sight from within a strangers eye
Look and see
All the potential within that unique life
The marring and falling
The look of a life lived once alive
Grasp
There is nothing more peaceful
No place more quietly filled with solidarity and truth
There is no smile brighter
No sound more solemn
And no such expression wasted solely on you
There is more than expected
Midst this endless perspective
There are labels which cannot speak ounces of truth
There is more than that which appears to all else
In this moment I find
There is more than just you
Dimensions
High ceilings breathe better
Walls of nothing or all
Speak loudly without ever having to scream

With balance hinting at perplexity
And a defining edge to rest your head
Surrounded by most of these

Just as the minds eye needs a self reflection to see
And the breath within needs also to breathe

Outward
Honest
And openly up

And such high ceilings are perfect for these
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