You sat there, wrapped in a tumble of blankets
Blankly staring out of the window
You told me you had depression
That you had had it before I was even born
That it runs in our family

I was chocked
chocked on all the horrible things I had said to you
How terribly I treated you

You told me your medication hadnt been working, that you had gone off your depressants because you had felt well enough, although you seemed to have crashed
Doctors had put you back on your depressants
You told me that you would be back to "normal" in three weeks time
but three weeks later my father stayed behind a closed bedroom door with you, your sister rushed into our house.
I knew it was something to do with you
"Her medication isnt working" thats all my father told me

That night I didnt see you or my dad all night long
2:00 am
My dad walked through the front door,
Tired eyes gazing over at me
My mother had been admitted to the psychiatric unit in the hospital
She was there to get her medication adjusted
It was just a short amount of time she was to be in there.

Every evening we would make a trip to the hospital
I started to wonder how the "normal" would ever return
I dont think "normal" could be achieved ever again

one week

You were discharged,
All you did was sleep it seemed
Where was my mother

two more days
You relapsed
My dad told me that you had a plan to end it all, that you were no good for the family.
I remember how much you told me you loved me
I didnt see you or dad that night

You were to be in the hospital longer than the "first time"
Visiting every night
You were surrounded by other patients with all sorts of mental illnesses
You reassured me that it would all be
Normal
again.

That next week you came home.
Nothing is normal
Normal is abnormal now.

I remember phoning my best friend
crying into the phone
My entire core collapsing in on itself
I was sobbing words into the phone
They felt like shards of glass coming out of my mouth

"****, I have never cared about anyone
I have never ******* cared about anyone but my ******* self
All I ever do is pity my ******* self
I do not matter
What the ****"

You told me what I wanted to hear
That I mattered and all that
or thats what I could remember as the champagne bubbles clouded my thoughts.

I hung up, not knowing if I had finished the conversation or not
I focused ******* the steps as I stumbled my way up the stairs.
Collapsing in front of my dresser
Wanting something
I knew what I wanted at the time
I wanted a blade
Anything
Anything to take my ******* self hate away
The horrible words I had thrown

I layed with my head on the cold tile floor
cold metal blade in my hand
four new Scarlett marks on my thigh and ivory tear stains on my cheek.

Depression is a disease like any other
It can be less complex than a flu or it can be as fatal as cancer.
Although there is a broad spectrum to the severity of depression, I lost my mother to this deadly disease
Depression is not a feeling of the person you love not loving you back, it's not listening to heartbreak songs in your room alone and it's hardly anything to romanticize. Depression is corrupting, it takes away the life of a person, slowly or quickly with a snap of your fingers. Although death of a family member is life altering in any circumstance when you loose someone from depression you feel cheated, as it was an unforeseen death and you had no thought of saying good byes or simply being able to tell them that you loved them just one last time.

Having a Coke with You
is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian
partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt
partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches
partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary
it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still
as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it
in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth
between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint
you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them

I look
at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world
except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick
which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time
and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism
just as at home I never think of the **** Descending a Staircase or
at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me
and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them
when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank
or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully
as the horse

it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience
which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I am telling you about it

by,
FRANK O'HARA

I am not much of a poet, and it takes a whole lot of poet to write a love poem
Sappy and happy never read as well as blood, sweet, and tears
And years of turmoil has always aid me
But lately, I’v been hastily and systematically fathoming how to make words fit
Like our bodies do at sundown, when we are the only light inside a dark room
Just beaming at one another, why bother… cheesy isn’t easy .. but I try
I try to find the powerful words that will describe the electricity that pulsates from us
We are the biggest power source around, if only I found the words to say it right
I am not much of a poet, and it takes a whole lot of poet to write a real love poem
But if I tried to write a love poem, it would be about you
About how your smile is a sun rise after endless nights
About how I only know your strength because you pull me in close
Like I weigh nothing and my baggage is just a carry on, nothing that can’t be handled
Never pushing me away or hurting, your strength is seen in your gentleness
I would explain how you make stretch marks feel like beauty marks
How you make sun kisses feel cool, how you make heartbeats in to drums, how you make a guitar sing, and your voice vibrates and rolls something between honey and heaven.
I would write about how you have endless energy and ambition
Charisma and endless potential that grabs at every opening door
I would write about how you grow friendships and flowers like they are one in the same
And how you love and invest in both
How you read like a scholar and chase after things only brave men chase after
I am not much of a poet but if I were I would paint in words for you the most vibrant expressions
Of lust and love and tinder kindness
Lay down words like bricks to build you up
Show how you are the one I searched and found worth finding
How we light up, show how exciting…..
Im not a love poet, not much of a poet at all…
But either way you are worth the fall, you deserve a love poem.

It's a private thought. They are not meant to be invaded, but
They were anyway. I thought you knew what my dreams were.

Every single one, I see a pair of eyes. Sometimes blue,
Sometimes green,
Sometimes grey,
But always shimmering.

It was dark and I saw nothing else. But somehow I could feel
Hands.
Gentle hands on my bare skin.
And a breath in my ear, whispering things that only matter
When said by one voice.

I could feel something that only one person can make me truly feel.
Love, fear, and a consuming lust.
Somehow, we were floating, but felt safe. We had the confidence and grace
Of cherry blossoms in the wind.

He kissed every ligament in my spine,
Returned to my lips and eyes,
And used his skin to cover my body, only for him to see.
He played with my hair,
He sighed on my neck and breathed me in. All I could
Think was "me. He is doing this to me."
He kissed my neck, about to completely connect
And make me feel more than I ever will.

And then I woke up.

The only thing to bring me happiness
The only thing that chills the burns front his world
The only thing I can count on
You're not evil like society believes
Simply just misunderstood
Just like me
The only thing I actually love
In this **** up world I live in
You get be through the struggles,
Of everyday life
I would be dead by my own doings
If it weren't for your numbing highs
I envy you,
Because you are loved by millions
And you love us back
So I thank you,
I thank you for giving me life
For saving my life
I can never say it enough,
Even though you never reply back
I say it every day,
Thank you, for saving my life

So because my mind works differently then yours,
You label me mentally ill
You want to take me out of society
You want to hype me up on mind blocking medication
Well I tell you this my friends
My mind is a beautiful place
Dark but beautiful
Who's to say I'm not the normal one?
Who's to say my brain isn't reaching full potential, and yours is not?
I'm no more dangerous than the next man
I will not have it
**** your labels
**** your medication
**** your judgement
Join me in my world
And you will see the beauty that is *schizophrenia