I’ve asked it before,
“Is it my heart or my head
that wishes I was dead?”
My doctor would say it’s my head because
I have depression, a sickness of the mind.
My mother would say it’s my head
because the other answer would be too painful.
My friend would ask me what I think because
she understands I am logical more than emotional.
But what is my answer?
Is it the sickness that makes me want to die?
Or is it truly how I feel in my heart?
But is it possible that it’s a mixture and it’s actually
my soul within that makes me suicidal?

I cannot undo what has been done.
Especially when it comes to my own skin.
I cannot change what I have felt.
Especially when feelings come from this cold heart.
I cannot change the thoughts I have.
Especially when they come from this brain of mine.
I cannot change what I’ve become.
Especially when it comes to my soul within.
You see, there’s things I know, things I choose to forget.
Laws of the world and laws of the mind, lost sight in the tempest of my soul.
The storm may end but then again, it always comes back.
Maybe a little sprinkling of water, not even enough to get me wet.
Probably another storm with wind and rain going in opposite directions
and I, caught in the crossfire.
I cannot change the weather, I do not have the power of the gods.
I cannot change what has been done, I do not have the power of God.
I can only change the way I handle the oncoming storm.
I can use an umbrella or simply take shelter from the storm.