I can't ******* breathe

You are ******* worth it

There is no mercy on the edge of a blade

It's almost as if I scream into their ears
               and they don't hear me.
I grasp onto them
               but they don't feel me.
I draw on my body with a blade
               but they don't see me.
I'm invisible.

No more dependence
No more being so reliant
Its time to be a woman
Its time to get defiant
No more of this looking for another
To make me feel finally whole
I've got a brilliant mind, functioning body
And a warriors soul.

When grey skies cloud my mind, he shows me how the sun can shine.
When loneliness takes over, he places his hand in mine.

When my teardrops produced rivers, his shoulders provide my dam.
When my confidence deserts me, he reminds how clever I am.

When at night I feel a chill, he cloaks me in his arms.
When fear takes a hold of me, he protects me from lives harms.

I shall always love him, his smile, his gentle ways.
My husband, my lover and my friend, forever throughout our days.

I keep writing "she" in my poems instead of "I" because I'm afraid of letting people know what's really going on inside my head, of knowing that I am the one who's been in so much pain for so long and not this "she" character everyone thinks I created. I don't tell anyone because then they will look deeper, and the deeper they'll look, the darker the images they'll see. Their curiosity will get them looking and wondering the thing I'm hiding behind the fake laughs. My insanity will be an interest of theirs and not me. I will simply be an interesting story to gossip about.

I honestly can't tell you when was the last time I laughed or even smiled (not even my favorite TV shows or favorite comedians can make me laugh). I only know about the long crying myself to sleep nights. The desperate continuous prayers. Laughing became forbidden, a sin that my mind is refusing to let me commit.

I've been running through this tunnel for so long looking for that light everyone keeps talking about. But the faster I run, the further I go, the longer the tunnel seems to get. I don't see a way out of here.

Sleeping used to be my temporary way out but even that, the sadness managed to take over it. It has taken over everything, became everything that I am. I've lost interest in everything and everyone. It's like I'm living in a nightmare and I know there is no better reality to wake up to. Do you know how that feels like? To be hopeless all the time even when you are not awake? To just exist and not live? To be in pain, to feel like you're slowly dying but there's nothing physically wrong with you? To feel like you are in this world alone because no one can see that you are suffering, no one hearing your cries for help, not your friends, not even your family? Do you know how hopeless feels like? I do. And it's killing every lasting bit of me. (And I don't know how much longer I can hold on)

You're not afraid of love,
You're afraid of heartbreak

You're afraid of being so high and then being brought so low...
Afraid of the idea that everything that goes up has to come back down, the nature of gravity doesnt allow otherwise...


But My Love,
In case you didn't already know,
Love defies nature...
                                          
                              - F.V.

Depression is like an ocean of demons, you have to learn to swim or they will catch you.
it's a battle against your own mind, no matter how hard you try they will come back to haunt you.
It's sleepless nights, tiresome day. Feeling numb, emotions go wild, but you always paint on a smile.
It's pretending everything is ok when really you're trapped in a hell you wish you could escape.

Depression is a cut so deep, you cover it up because you don't want people to see. Everytime you look at it you feel ashamed and weak.
Depression is being in a room full of people and still feeling so alone. It's feeling frustrated with yourself because you wish that for just one second your brain could switch off, it's wishing you could feel true happiness but it's been so long you don't even know what tru happiness is anymore.
What is depression?  it's an ocean of demons, if you don't swim you'll drown.

Just cuz my boss is a jack ***,
Or cuz my mom's words are slurring,

I might say I don't love you anymore.

Or I might shower in water that's a degree above committing adultery with the sun, and a degree below my blood steadily starting to boil.
I can feel everything that's ever touched me leave me.

Lemme tell ya how I can turn a come love me into a don't you ******* touch me.

If my clothes touch me wrong
It's ruined.
If the nothing I smell is wrong.
It's ruined.

I'm a touchy shower setting in a different language on opposite day, im nights sweats, an ice cube stuck on the tip of your tongue.

All or nothing.
Give it your all or you'll be Nadda.

I honestly can't tell you if I'm getting better or if I'm just running faster.
I just know that this water is turning my skin into leather.

Dulled senses, aching
Haunted by last night’s fumes
Dark eyes darker, despite
Shades reflecting daylight
Red eyes in the morning
Drunkards warning to a
Dawn tinged with regret

People may tell you to not cry...
I won't because I know the difference.
They think they know when in fact they lie...
I say bury yourself in the deepest of detriments.

They may say that a new day will come...
They only spout what they can't comprehend.
They forget that you are ailing from a broken heart and that you're not dumb.
There's only you in your space, alone you stand...

Textbook responses are all they can offer...
They know not that it'll only make things worse...
There can be no replies so nice and proper.
To rid you of your life, your plight, your curse.

They may even share personal events that they think familiar.
Thinking what worked for them may work for you.
But no two situations are the same, albeit looking quite similar.
At the end of the day, you only owe it to yourself to pull yourself through.

I say feed your pain, grieve hard if you must
Wallow... Dwell... Drown yourself everyday.
Let your blood sear your insides, beneath your crumbling crust.
Let the world around you descend into destruction and decay.

What made me the expert...
To say these horrid, putrid things.
Because I am you and we both lay in the dirt.
Driven mad by the persistent echoes of our own misgivings.

I'm no expert... I am just a broken man.
Telling you to let yourself be caught in your own sad and angry song.
Be weak... Be as weak as you possibly can...
So you could rise from the ashes and emerge hale and strong.

Dear you,
I wrote you a letter last night in the middle of an anxiety attack. I didn't know it was addressed to you until about halfway through, but it only makes sense that it all comes back to you. I guess I wanted to write everything that was going on in my head onto paper, to stop thinking about everything and everyone, including you. I keep saying I'm happy for you that things are getting better for you and that you're happier now but I think everyone knows I'm just pretending that I'm not in ruins that you left me for dead. I hope you think about me sometimes, I hope you remember who I used to be.
Love, always,
Me.