Depression is art
The kind few actually understand
It's poetry is embodied in the paint
That covers the artist's hands.
And the canvas drips words
That fill up the empty space
With colors of black and blue
To fill up the feeling of grey
Within the emptiness
Of the corners of the artist's heart.
But the design isn't yet finished
The last stroke waiting to breathe
On the canvas to complete it
Before the world can see.
Slices of red added to the portrait
And specks of tears too
To complete the last touch
Of the masterpiece for you.
...
But you know what they say
Most art isn't understood
And the poetry behind it all
Is lost in the colors too.
For you would only know
If you knew this:
That the art was her soul
But the canvas was her **skin

I've been tossed overboard
By my own ship of life
Forgotten by the world
Drowning in my own pain
And the lost words I shout
Never to be heard...
I've slipped everyone's mind
Adrift alone at sea
No one seems to hear my cries
All I have left is me
But I'm getting tired of myself
And the demons
Constantly trying to drown me
....
What's the point anyway
In living life just to survive
When there's nothing
To survive for
I guess I might as well
Calm the seas
By giving in to the tides
And letting my body
Wash up on the *shore

Having Depression is like finding out that mermaids are real
It doesn’t make sense to you until you’re getting dragged to the bottom of the ocean
And then you think
Oh
That’s what this is
And I’m drowning now,
That’s just……… great
And eventually, with your last vestiges of breath left
You float back to the surface
And you’re fine.
And that’s it.
Mermaids stop existing again.
Because you never actually saw what grabbed you
You only felt the claws around your leg
The cold, clammy hands tugging
With a force that you could never fight against
But you never saw her
So it was all a dream
Right?
And it happens again and again
You are drowning again and again
Until the water begins to feel like home
And the only thing reminding you that you are alive
Is the burning in your lungs
And when everything you had balanced so very carefully starts falling
Off the shelves of your life
When your “mild” depression starts deciding it wants to be more
When being alone makes you feel dead inside
And when losing your cool for one ******* second makes you contemplate your own demise
When do you admit to yourself that you are slipping
You are sinking and just because you can slow your descent
Does not mean that you’re not still drowning
And at the end of the day just because it took you longer to get there this time
Doesn’t mean you aren’t still lying on the ocean floor
Devoid of light and sound
And if you had just climbed onto that now distant boat and sailed away
You’d be fine.
But climbing was too hard
And sinking is so much easier
And you’re scared that if you reach out
Your hands will feel clammy and cold
As they wrap around your friends throats
And drag them down with you
And you would rather rot at the bottom of an endless sea
Than let that happen
So you lie in darkness and wait
For a sound
The singular resounding sound
Of failure
And you slowly float back to the surface
Take a deep breath
And you’re fine.
Because mermaids aren’t real
It’s all in your head

A beautiful Rose
In a field of dandelions
Not alone
Yet lonely
Forever cursed
To never belong

Slowly fading away...

It was he who'd been too busy
Picking at her petals
To realize she was beautiful
Just the way she was

It was she
Who learned to grow thorns
To keep him away

...

For it was she
Who realized
He was the darkness
That wouldn't hesitate
To crush her
Just to mold her
To his liking

...

She was a beautiful Rose
In a field of dandelions
Not alone
And still a bit lonely
Slightly cursed
To never belong
But content
To forever belong
With herself

*And that's all that mattered...