Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Cherisse May Oct 2019
let's take a walk
under the night sky
as comforting as that seems,
it never is;

it's always
the skies pin onto themselves
dead ***** of gases
deceased light years ago

yes, let's walk along Grove
leave false stars in the form of phones
back at home
let's walk alone
get lost
Oct 2019 · 159
Cherisse May Oct 2019
minsan ang sansinukob,
minsan ang namamagitan sa ating dalawa.
minsan ang kalawakan,
minsan ang hinihingi para makahinga.
Mar 2019 · 431
let me out, a rant
Cherisse May Mar 2019
in all honesty, i have difficulty in perceiving what is real and what's in my head.

"what demons?" i hear you ask, and i simply smile back.
"want me to describe them to you?"

these demons,
these wretched, dark, indecipherable beings
clawing their way inside my brain,
and making it to the depths of my innards,
they're never really gone
and it will always be a struggle
to remain calm,
despite everything.

it feels like
swimming in a pool
6 feet deep
and as a 5'2 kid,
it has been a constant struggle
to try and stay afloat;
try and stay alive
because suddenly the world morphs
and the pool is no longer a pool
but an ocean, a stormy night
out on the open sea,
waves crashing, violently slapping the boats and ships sailing through the vicious currents
shipwrecks here and there, floating debris,
a havoc; hands and feet, cold, dead, floating,
and as you float there,
your legs get numb from the cold water,
helplessly moving your arms and legs to try and keep yourself up,
trying not to feel the dark, murky waters of the night
trying to entangle its menacing fingers
and grab ahold of your dangling legs.

yet suddenly it becomes a pool once more.
the debris floating around you
now become floating devices,
calmly riding the ripples made by your own movement.

these are my demons,
the ones that turn a whole world into a nightmare
but in a snap,
makes me wonder what reality am I in.

It's all normal.
And I wonder if it's all in my head.

let me out from this augmented reality
a nightmare so surreal
let me out
i am terrified
i hate depressive episodes and i need a therapist before i end up killing myself again.
Mar 2019 · 1.3k
Cherisse May Mar 2019
test me
my waters have remained constant
rippling, reaching
as far as the eye can see
into the horizon; the water surrounds me
my knowledge is useless
when drowning in these waters;
i can only flail desperately
as my movements create ripples
out into the open sea
all these efforts
all in vain
all in my vein
blood rushing out
like the sea, light then heavy
then strong
like the sea, with a strong smell of salt
this time, the waters are red
and they reek of iron

test my waters
they’ve been stained crimson
with my lifeline
exam week got me in a bad light
Jan 2019 · 237
lost all hope
Cherisse May Jan 2019
what is there to lose
when all has been said and done
when all that is left is a shadow?

what more do i have to lose
other than the sliver of hope
i so desperately hold on to;
what else do i have left?

what can i do
when even the happiest days have gone by
and time kills as the seconds pass by?
Jan 2019 · 163
to, love;
Cherisse May Jan 2019
i love you. and i miss you.
though only the clicking of the keyboard can hear
and the silence of the night can tell,
this distance makes the night grow colder.

i want to melt in your embrace,
and no longer will i fear protecting my soul
from my demons wanting to inhale every inch of my soul;
i no longer have to fear being alone.

through glass sheets and LED screens,
i no longer have to fear to start over again
when giving away a little part of me;
i no longer have to fear opening up and letting my heart out to you.

through airplane rides and bumpy roadsides,
i no longer have to find solace in the warmth of a blanket,
or the voice over a phone,
or the presence on a screen.

love, i'll meet you soon.
i can't wait to meet you soon. hopefully. maybe.

i'm looking forward to it.

i love you, my best friend turned lover. hehe.
Cherisse May Nov 2018
if I wrote you a suicide note,
will you care to read it?
will you leave me on "seen"
or will you leave me hanging?
What if I sent you a suicide note on a messaging app?

Because it might happen soon enough.
Nov 2018 · 318
write more.
Cherisse May Nov 2018
I’ve never really felt
The need to write, more and more,
Until suicide notes and love letters all felt the same way.
Write more. More. Because suicide notes have started to become love letters of the ******
Oct 2018 · 187
closed spaces
Cherisse May Oct 2018
when the wind blows,
ever so strong, the trees shaking in their roots,
the little grasses holding on to dear life,
i simply shut the door.

but eventually, i've learned
to embrace the wind, the rain;
i've learned to flow along with the wind,
and cry under the rain.

but now, i guess
it's time to stop trusting the wind and the rain;
it's time to shut my heart out once again,
and hide in my own closed space.
i've learned to open up and invest so much into a person.

by the end of the day i should have known better; i shouldn't assume they're my friends. don't want to end up disappointed, and disappoint people.

time to protect myself from trusting anyone ever again.

it's my fault.
Oct 2018 · 919
one less.
Cherisse May Oct 2018
one less spoonful.
i repeat, and eat less.
one less kilogram.
i repeat, and eat less.

as i look at my own reflection in the mirror,
as if to mock me,
it's all the same;
i am still not enough.

one less craving.
i say, as my stomach grumbles.
one less meal.
i say, as the bile comes rushing in, forcing its way out.

one less spoonful.
i say, as i head to the comfort room after a meal.
one less kilogram.
i say, as i force my fingers into my mouth, expelling the contents of my own stomach.
i need help.
Oct 2018 · 166
talking to;
Cherisse May Oct 2018
anxiety talks to me,
her velvet, silk voice, trembling, yet wrapped around me,
choking my insides, stomach twisting,
all reason gone; blinded and paralyzed by fear.

depression talks to me,
as he leans close into my ear,
as he releases a ***** sigh, an exhale of various colors,
as he feels the weight of the blade on my skin.
no voice deserves to be left to dust;
yet these voices turn me into dust.
Oct 2018 · 301
detachment and depression.
Cherisse May Oct 2018
loneliness is emptiness
filled to the brim with nothingness,
a lack of sufficient funding
to pay for my actual thinking.

breathing is a waste of time,
when nothing will ever go right;
a cacophony of everything,
and nothing, all at once.
i can't pay for mental therapy sessions, so i ended up on this site.

making poems, a band-aid solution to a gaping hole depression caused, instead of finding a better option.

i really can't pay for a visit to the doctor.

besides, i can't even open up to you; you hate inconveniences and my depression is one of the many inconveniences you encounter.

and besides, you don't owe me anything; it's just right that you've always been detached from our friendship since day one.
Oct 2018 · 191
you, but not quite.
Cherisse May Oct 2018
you're a photograph,
grayed out and dissolved by time,
washed away by an ocean of tears;
you're a photograph no longer occupying my album called my heart.
the emptiness is not cause by you; rather, the absence of you.

i'm coming into terms with my own loneliness, and it seems like i'll never fully get over this horrible feeling.

rest assured, i've finally moved on.
Oct 2018 · 148
falling, crashing.
Cherisse May Oct 2018
i'm deathly afraid
of falling, gravity embracing me,
and continuously feeling adrenaline
coursing through my veins.

i'm deathly afraid
of falling, crashing hard,
my feelings all placed in one bet,
risking it all as i keep falling.

i'm deathly afraid
of heights, the wind blowing,
my legs shaking, my body unsteady,
the ground seemingly a thousand miles below.

but what if
i jump off
to, as they say,
'conquer my fears'?
i'm falling, crashing, and i'm not quite sure where i'm landing.

my poems have lost the feeling i once used to pour out.

now all i have is my self, and it's getting too hard.
Cherisse May Oct 2018
there's too many happenings lately;
it almost feels like
a floodgate breaking due to unseen circumstances,
the water gushing out, roaring, filling the silence with its cries.

it's as if everything feels like
an overwhelming amount of an odd concoction
of what seems to be problems,
diluted only by what i can assume is my sanity.

it's as if i'm drowning, my legs pulled deeper and deeper
underwater, everything and nothing all at once,
trying to fill my lungs until I choke;
there's too much of the world that i cannot simply take in.

and yet, look at me;
the feeling of drowning, the feeling of hopelessness
paralyzes me, fear drilling itself into my mind,
as it advances far into numerous possibilities i can only describe as overthinking.
i describe my own anxiety really badly.

but i do feel bad for being paralyzed in bed, because my undiagnosed anxiety and depression has been pretty bad lately.

I get called lazy when I'm paralyzed with my thoughts. I don't even know anymore. I can't even talk to my own friend anymore.
Cherisse May Oct 2018
instead of the late afternoon sepia,
darkness fills my window,
with bits and pieces of scattered light from outside
trying to come in this late at night.

instead of the warm oranges and reds
trying to envelope me in its embrace,
it's the black sky, littered with glittering stars
and soon, as the morning comes, blue washed skies.

instead of afternoons with friends, it's late nights
talking to myself, alone;
being alone isn't a bad thing, but I've been
so used to being alone that I've had too much time to overthink.

instead of coffee, it's milk.
I can't force myself to stay awake via caffeine;
wouldn't milk help me sleep?
but I can't sleep, and now I'm plagued with these horrible thoughts.
11:53 pm. I said I wanted to try not being depressed but it flowed out of me unconsciously, like paint, spilled.

I'm trying to not **** myself. I promise. I've been trying so hard.
Oct 2018 · 438
Cherisse May Oct 2018
let's lose sleep
thinking about how hungry we are, craving for each other,
hands rushing towards each other like waves,
greedily filling each other's void, fingers intertwined.

let's lose sleep over
thinking about the endless possibilities,
the world, even; almost anything, really,
as we lay there, the silence engulfing us.

let's lose sleep over
feeling the cold breeze of the night,
a tint of alcohol and blush on your rose dusted cheeks,
as we struggle to feel each other's warmth and heat.

let's lose sleep over
the fact that
this will only happen
in my dreams.
another day of me being fragile.

get out of my head; you're making me think about you quite often now.
Sep 2018 · 2.4k
do I finally like you?
Cherisse May Sep 2018
After several instances
of your arm accidentally brushing
against mine,
can I assume I finally like you?

Can I finally say that
you make my heart pump blood
faster than when I
go to the gym and workout?

Can I finally say that
you lift my mood up, as high as the heavens,
and make me write poems
as sweet as artificial sugar?

Can I finally say I like you
even when you don't like me too?
I am cringing but hey, look. a happy poem on top of all my depressed poems.

You make me write happy poems when I never got the courage to before.
Cherisse May Sep 2018
I've had a sudden realization,
while sitting in the corner,
staring blankly at a wall,
my mind running amok.

My daily train of thought consists of
overthinking about situations,
anxiety brought about by simple mistakes,
and staring off into space, while people passing by think I'm looking at them.

My train of thought mostly revolves around
endless ways of trying to better my situation, or,
endless ways of trying to **** myself and end everything;
but most of the time it's just a random blur, dissolving into nothingness.

My train of thought is simply
me, talking to myself, and reflecting
on what my friends said;
nah, I can't say they're my friends; I don't want to assume and get hurt again.

And I have lost my train of thought.
Everything fades into the background,
and everything just feels empty.
I should be doing a lot of stuff but I just want to end myself.
A random write-up, in hopes of making all this overthinking go away.

I have no one I'm comfortable to talk to; they're all busy leading their own lives. My friends aren't therapists; why should I bother them?

I should detach myself from them. I hate getting hurt for expecting from my friends. I'm sorry.
Sep 2018 · 585
Cherisse May Sep 2018
Mirror, mirror,
On the wall,
Why am I
the ugliest of them all?

Is it my teeth?
Is it my eyes?
Is it because I ****
at almost everything I try?

Is it because
I'm not as beautiful
as the other girls
when I cry?

Mirror, mirror,
On the wall,
I wish I could feel nothing
And end it all.
Why are other girls still beautiful when they cry?
Not only do I ugly cry, but I'm just outright ugly.
Horrible to look at; absolutely horrid to the eyes.

No wonder my friends were making fun of me.
Sep 2018 · 152
attempt failed.
Cherisse May Sep 2018
I never really succeeded at anything;
not even suicide attempts,
not even anything memorable.
I've just been unfortunate enough to be unlucky at everything.
I just want this horrible feeling to go away.

my ceiling broke once again. I just want this to stop. To end everything.

Why can't I?
Sep 2018 · 170
superglue on a screw
Cherisse May Sep 2018
the first time i did it,
my neck didn't break, the rope fell,
and the ***** simply came off;
it couldn't support me.

the other attempts,
I've been trying,
but I always kept telling myself there's still
some reason out there for me to try and fight this.

I guess tonight isn't one of those days.
Here's to hoping
the superglue on my ceiling
gets to hold me nice and tight.
i hate this feeling.
Sep 2018 · 796
Cherisse May Sep 2018
drown me.
drown me in your scent, like waves crashing,
the sea that used to be calm made a tsunami,
and left marks of yourself.

you make me feel whole.
addicting, intoxicating, like alcohol;
like drugs, drowning in ecstasy,
let me drown in you.
for my friend, whose girlfriend smells like heaven in a bottle,
whose scent becomes addicting.

Mabango na jacket mo, J.
Sep 2018 · 227
Cherisse May Sep 2018
why is it that
every time I get home
from interacting with other people
i feel exhausted?

it makes me feel like
they took all my soul and happiness
i succeeded in faking,
and now i want to end all of this.

it's a mindless cycle;
i fake and fake all of what i could give,
and by the end of the day, i'm gone;
used up, and fake it for another more day.

being home completes the cycle.
Sep 2018 · 158
sleep deprived thoughts.
Cherisse May Sep 2018
Suicide is never an option;
It's simply the last resort button,
hiding in the background, waiting to be uncovered
when everything just goes wrong.
i sound like an attention seeker but writing poems is better than actually keeping all of these nasty thoughts to myself.

at least I've reduced my attempts to almost 95% down this year.

Congrats, self.
Sep 2018 · 711
fill in the blanks
Cherisse May Sep 2018
whenever i feel empty,
I try to evaluate myself,
much like how a student evaluates
the questions before skimming for the answers.

fill in the blanks,
the tiny crevices made by sadness,
the cracks and gaps of loneliness;
help me and fill them out with human company.

fill in the blanks;
sheets of paper, empty,
an untouched screen, the faint humming of a computer,
the pens and pencils, neat and free from human activity.

fill them in; draw and draw until your mind begs to stop;
write and write until the words don't make sense;
I've been trying to do so much
just to make sure that gaping hole of pure, slow, and excruciating loneliness and depression gets temporarily covered.

I've been trying to fill in the blanks in my life since day one.
It seems like it'll never work.
I want to keep writing until I can feel like I am something again.

It seems like I've lost myself and I will never be able to get myself back, much like a student who crams for a test and forgets everything, with no hope of recovering that information.
Cherisse May Sep 2018
Why is it that whenever someone tells me
to speak up about my problems and open up to them,
all of a sudden, they just become this
uncrossable barrier, so difficult to talk to?

Why does it feel like
they never really meant what they told me
when they said,
"I'm here if you need to talk to anyone"?

And for the past few months,
it has been increasingly lonely.
I don't want to disturb anyone
whenever I want to talk to them.
If I've ever chatted you randomly, please forgive me. I have no one to talk to and I often tell myself I should talk myself out of ending my life, and share my burdens.

But then again, I don't want to disturb anyone by being the daily source of negativity.

I hate being like this, I'm sorry.
Cherisse May Sep 2018
how the sun barely peeked into his apartment,
the way your curious face greeted me,
the way his entire apartment was ours for a few hours.

the way you held on to me,
your hands around my waist,
your head slightly tilted, just barely resting on my shoulder,
and before we knew it, we were sprawled on his bed, basking in each other's warmth.

the way you stroked my hair,
telling me everything might not be alright,
telling me I'll find someone like you, probably better,
telling me to find someone like you,
but you're the only one like you.

telling me to move on,
telling me to be happy,
telling me to find someone to love;
i guess we both know we'll only be happy if it weren't us.
i guess we're never really meant for each other.
if i post this, chances are i got brave or something.

i don't know; i'm worn out and i suddenly think of you. i guess i could say i miss you.

correction. i missed you.

here's to me finally closing this chapter containing us. My actual closure for myself. Acceptance.

here's to moving on.

Thank you for accepting me as a person, and thank you for continuing to become my friend.
Sep 2018 · 120
7th sense
Cherisse May Sep 2018
My vision, slowly losing focus,
the bright lights fading into
bright circles,
the world eventually fading away.

My hearing, drowning in the silence;
oddly enough, there's a
loud buzzing, screaming,
telling me to stop.

My breathing, quiet, sniffing every now and then,
the movement of rib bones going up and down,
the feeling of a knife tracing my chest,
the way it poked me and made my heart bleed.

My mind, my heart.
Filled with feelings, yet almost none left for myself.
I'll always love other people,
but there isn't enough for me anyway.

What's the whole point, then?
I'm about to lose it. As in, lose myself and probably going insane.

I am so close to giving up; I can't afford professional help, nor do I want to bother anyone by my negativity.

I'm a bother, anyway. I should just end myself.
Sep 2018 · 215
Cherisse May Sep 2018
I tried suspending a heavy object
from my ceiling,
testing a hook ***** I found
lying around in my room.

As soon as it fell,
I took some superglue
and squeezed it onto the *****'s threads,
hoping it'll stick into the ceiling well.

Superglue advertisements often endorse
their superb sticking ability;
let's see,
can it properly hang me?
I should be studying but these nasty thoughts are consuming me.
Sep 2018 · 274
Cherisse May Sep 2018
Hello, death?
Yes, uh, hi. Calling because I wanted to clarify things.
When I said I wanted to die, I meant alone,
not with friends.

I don't want them to get caught in my selfishness,
Nor do I want their families to feel loss.
So yes, at least keep them safe; I'm fine with dying, I guess.
Anyway, until next time, death.
I forgot to post this one.

Me and my research teammates almost crashed into a car in the middle of the highway. Thankfully, the tricycle driver managed to swerve and slightly scratch the car, even when the tricycle was going full speed.
Sep 2018 · 231
monday again.
Cherisse May Sep 2018
The week hasn't even started,
And yet I feel like
My arms have been torn, limb by limb,
And my mind eternally wandering into space.

The only thing keeping me alive
Is the requirements in school,
Loans I have to pay,
And compulsory attendances.

I don't know.
I find it utterly sad
To lose reason and will to live,
But what can I do?
Slowly losing hope.

I don't want to be judged for being a sad ball of negativity.

This is the only place I feel like I can talk to someone, since I felt like no one wants to talk to an annoying, overly dramatic kid.

Maybe after all this.
Sep 2018 · 238
Cherisse May Sep 2018
I've always wondered "why"
Why can't I write
Fluffy and warm poems,
Making me happy?

Why can't I write happy poems
Without hating myself?
Why can't I write about falling in love
Without cringing and deleting it?

Why are my friends
So good at writing poems
And making people feel
All these good emotions?

I want to be happy.
I want to be truly happy with whatever I'm doing.
Everyone's writing beautiful poems, and I feel happy whenever I read them. How come I can't write happy poems without sounding disgusting or trying so hard?

I want to cheer people up, too.
But I end up drowning in my self hate anyway.
I am a source of negativity,
And I'm genuinely sorry.
Sep 2018 · 212
stop, halt. ending.
Cherisse May Sep 2018
I've been so used to being lonely and self loathing that I end up pushing everyone away, hoping that it'll all go away.

This nasty feeling inside me needs to stop.

But something's telling me the only way I could ever do that is if I make myself stop.

Stop, halt. Ending.
These inner demons rising beneath my bedsheets trying to strangle me, trying to devour me whole. They're unstoppable, and I'm terrified at what I might do next.

I'm starting to lose all hope.
Sep 2018 · 257
a penny for a thought
Cherisse May Sep 2018
I came to my senses.

I finally realized that by the end of the day,
I will never truly find happiness.

Human greed is awful; they constantly want more and more,
Not realizing that there will never be an infinite amount of "mores" to ever satisfy them.
Sep 2018 · 118
I am not
Cherisse May Sep 2018
I am not beautiful,
No matter what people say,
Because it's always a daily struggle
To look at the mirror and accept myself.
I'll end up hating myself anyway.

I am not happy
With how I weigh,
Because I'll never be as skinny
As those girls on screen, flaunting themselves.
I obsessed with numbers, and I still am.

I am not confident
With anything I do, or say,
Simply because I'll always never be enough.
I'll only end up cursing my work and words.

What I am, though,
Is someone constantly struggling
With trying to accept herself, and coming to terms that
I'm pretty okay.
If it weren't for my friends, I wouldn't get any progress.

Someday, slowly, I'll get there.
I'll learn to accept my flaws,
Embrace my soul and tell myself,
"You worked hard today.
You did it."
Still learning.

I constantly hate myself but I'm learning not to.

I'll get there soon.
Sep 2018 · 241
a list of all my attempts.
Cherisse May Sep 2018
Attempt 1,
7th grade.
I was ridiculed for self harming,
Since my "cuts weren't even deep."

Attempt 2,
8th grade.
I tried swallowing everything that said "Do not eat"
Hoping I'd lose consciousness.

Attempt 3,
Still 8th grade.
You made me feel like whatever you did was okay; it wasn't.
To this day, I continuously beat myself over it.

Attempt 4,
9th grade.
I tried looking up harmful effects of overdosing on iron,
But it only left me with scarred intestines.

Attempt 5,
10th grade.
I tried to hang myself, hoping I'll succeed.
My mom came home.

Attempt n.
I tried cutting myself, hoping I'll bleed to death.
I tried asking for help, but I realized I was just doing it for attention.
Maybe this sadness isn't real, they said, and I believed them.

Attempt x.
In between these mentioned attempts,
There were still too many attempts unnamed.
But who cares?

Attempt y.
I tried killing myself again today.
But maybe if I did, will my classmates joke about me hanging myself?

I don't want that.

Maybe my depression and never-ending self hate aren't real.
Maybe I'm just assuming I have depression.
Maybe I'm just overreacting.
Maybe I should end my embarrassing self.

I'm sorry.
A mess. I just needed to type all of these out.

I'm hesitant on using the words suicidal and depressed because I don't want people telling me "attention seeker; stop assuming you have depression or suicidal" "get over it. Such a trivial thing"

It's all my fault anyway.
Sep 2018 · 223
If I were to die
Cherisse May Sep 2018
If I were to die tonight,
Will anyone ever wonder
Where I go
Or how I went?

If I were to die tonight,
Will my research
Be finished without me
And my friends graduate?

If I were to die tonight,
How will I ever explain
Not going back to school, or passing my requirements?
Will my teachers even care, or will they fail me?

If I were to die tonight,
Will a seat be empty
During the college entrance test
At the testing site?

If I were to die tonight,
Will a classroom ever notice
How one student is gone?
Or will they simply dismiss it as me being late?

If I were to die tonight,
Will all my bad memories
Dissipate into the air,
Or will people still talk bad about me?

If I were to die tonight,
Will all my mistakes vanish
Or am I taking all of them to my grave,
Dying with humiliation?

If I were to die tonight,
How will I be remembered?
Am I simply a stupid kid,
Or am I just dust of the Earth?

If I were to die tonight,
Will my family ever realize
How much I've been asking for help
But they simply dismissed it?
If I were to die tonight, will anyone truly raise awareness for other kids with suicidal tendencies?
Because no matter how much people are raising awareness on a national scale, people locally treat it with little to no care. There's so much stigma surrounding depression and suicide. If you were to tell someone you feel depressed or suicidal, chances are they'll say "get over it" "you're overreacting" "you just want attention" "its not that bad, at least you have a home" "you should be thankful to God since he gave you life" "you have it better than ____" "suicide is a sin and being depressed is a sign of lack of faith", and these kinds of thinking ****.

I can't take it anymore.
Sep 2018 · 238
end of a day.
Cherisse May Sep 2018
When the sun sets
And the skies are painted
In light orange streaks and hints of pink,
It signals the end of a day.

And when a warm bluish purple
Transforms the night sky into
A yellow sunrise, warming the Earth,
It signals another start of a day.

But why am I filled
With a desire
To only see a sunset
To signal an end to me as well
Another end of a day, and I'm tired.

I'm so, so, ******* tired, but who am I to complain? Everyone's ******* tired, I aint special.
Sep 2018 · 153
Cherisse May Sep 2018
One cold, dark night
As I lay there, my mind running,
Screaming in agony, the silence shrouding it in,
I remember your question:

"Why do you inflict pain
When I can't even imagine
Hurting myself?
Why do you cause yourself harm?"

The answer is that I'll never seem to find a way
To ever represent how much
I hate myself,
and how I wish I never existed.

And this is the only way,
Truly the only way
I'll ever manage to express myself
Without anyone ever making fun of what I think.

The sight of myself truly ******* disgusts me.
I need help but this is the only way; this is better than telling someone and having that person making fun of what i say and do.

I can't stand myself.
Aug 2018 · 2.1k
End me.
Cherisse May Aug 2018
A deafening silence settles,
Leaving only dust and some movements,
Rustling in the sheets, tossing and turning,
Trying to get some sleep.

But where is the peace in the silence
When all you can hear are
The whispers, an illusion,
Yet there is nothing to be heard.

Slowly, out of reach,
My hand tries to grab
What is left of my own sanity;
And every night, I wish it were over.

End me.
I don't know. I **** at writing poems but i have no one to talk to, anyway.
Jul 2018 · 182
three words
Cherisse May Jul 2018
A sad song is playing,
And I'm here,
Lying on my bed,

They always tell me
That they're there
But why does it feel like
Whatever I say won't make sense anyway?
I can't write good poems. I'm ****** as is.
Jul 2018 · 263
3 am
Cherisse May Jul 2018
It was 3 am,
The darkness still covering the skies,
Except this time, I wasn't alone
With my thoughts.

3 in the morning,
And i hadn't drank or eaten anything,
I felt sick,
Not just physically but mentally.

And in that unholy hour did i feel
The unpleasant rush of emotions,
Waves of overlapping thoughts,
And all i ever wanted was it to stop.

It was 3 in the morning,
The noise of alcohol drowned
In a sea of probably my consciousness,
And the only help i was able to ask for was

"I want to die."

But a poke on my forehead
was all i needed to tell myself
That maybe, just maybe,
They understood my call for help.
I might need to get off of the internet and get some help. My problems arent as big as others' problems. Sorry.
Jun 2018 · 440
Almost Midnight
Cherisse May Jun 2018
These are some of my
Almost-midnight thoughts,
Lurking under dimly-lit surroundings,
Trailing behind as if shadows.

These are the thoughts
That resurface from the pitch-black bottom,
Much like how bubbles make their way
Up to the sea from the depths of the oceanfloor.

These are the thoughts,
The ones I've been struggling to put down,
Much like a crazy person flailing about
While the doctors and nurses try to restrain him.

I almost ended it.
But then again, here I am.

Trying to make things work.
These thoughts. These horrible, horrible thoughts.
Jun 2018 · 374
Cherisse May Jun 2018
How the outside world
Makes such a blaring, disturbing noise
Yet only the silence settles between us.

How I'm right beside you
Sitting straight,
Yet I don't seem to even be here.

How simple the world can be,
How simple we could be,
But you don't even exist.
I can't even write poems. For ****'s sake.
Jun 2018 · 331
Cherisse May Jun 2018
Why am I sad?

I ask myself that question all the time,
And I never seem to have a definite answer
Besides the occasional
"I don't know."

But what if the reason
Was that there were actually too many reasons,
And they somehow merged into one big mess,
And so I could never really identify which was the actual problem?

Why am I sad?

Perhaps I will never really know.

Until then, I'll be drowning in this sadness.
just got home and i don't know what came over me.
May 2018 · 263
Cherisse May May 2018
Hold on.

Hold on for as long as you can,
Because this pain won't go away easily.

Hold on to whatever you can grab,
Because the sliver of hope I'm holding
Is slowly becoming out of reach.

Hold on to whatever makes you happy
Because the things that mattered
Slowly faded into the background,
Simply out of focus.

Hold on to me please.
Because I'm losing myself in the process
Where I'm trying so desperately
To find a reason to keep going,
Despite my mind screaming to stop.

Hold on please.
There's something I still need to do.

Please help me.
Nasty, nasty thoughts. Again and again.
May 2018 · 363
no title
Cherisse May May 2018
"I quit."

The times I uttered these words
Were the times I doubted
Anything that happened,
And everything that could happen.

I quit.

I quit trying to lead a life
Where I feel insignificant,
Almost as if unwanted,
And endless thoughts of how to end this.

I quit.
I want to end this.
Make it stop.
I quit.
May 2018 · 181
8:13 pm
Cherisse May May 2018
there's always this kind of unsettled feeling,
right at the pit of your stomach,
growling, restless.
nauseating, even.

it makes you lose appetite, interest,
for the things you love the most
it makes you feel like
you'll never even get out of bed.

in times like these,
all these nasty thoughts kick in;
what hope should i have?
what am i left to do?
this is tiring.
Apr 2018 · 425
9:55 pm
Cherisse May Apr 2018
Maybe it's the alcohol
Running through my veins
Seeping through all of my pores
Invading my skin, crawling,
Leaving a trail of heat and numbness.

Maybe it's my mind
Trying to twist myself into
A wringing mess, unconscious,
Undesirable for the current society
Whose words weigh millions.

Or maybe it's just me.
Overthinking, in a dark room.
Laying there, paralyzed.
Contemplating. Typing. Thinking.


I'm tired.
But I've stopped moving.
Next page