I don't think most people understand depression
                                                    ­                         suicide
                                                         ­                           PTSD
or the cycles that they come in as if they were tides.

People don't see past the smiles and laughter to the darkness within;
That you could be surrounded by love and feel okay
                                                            ­                            yet still be dead

That no matter how much comfort or peace you have it still gnaws away in the beck of your mind and chews a hole in your heart.

Cut wrists and suicide attempts aren't a cry for attention but for help;
does anybody out there hear me? see me? feel the way I feel? does anybody get that I am on the edge and losing it? why does nobody listen? why don't they take me serious? am I worth anything?

It disgusts me we execute the wounded and condemn their suffering;
Maybe they shouldn't feel the way they feel, but it's how they feel, so quit trying to tell them to stop feeling that way!
QUIT TRYING TO FIX THEM

Just be there... they need to know they aren't alone.

O beautiful
was the werewolf
in his evil forest.
We took him
to the carnival
and he started
crying
when he saw
the Ferris wheel.
Electric
green and red tears
flowed down
his furry cheeks.
He looked
like a boat
out on the dark
water.

Love
What to say?
I painted my life
with love entirely
so I burn in flames
I die to everyone
give everyone
and I die
in love

I would rather have your heart for just one day
                                  than have a million diamonds and waste away

I can't stand missing you anymore.

You are all I've longed for yet you
  have gone away, away, so far gone.

I don't think you understood how
  much your love meant to my heart.

I have tried to move on without you
  yet life lost its luster and it's volume.

So I bemoan your absence in another poem
  that doesn't scratch the beginning of my pain.

Trickling streams released from ice
The return of feathered friends above
Blossoms of plum and cherry sprouting
Rays of sun captured in morning fog

Where does this infant season take you?
To pastures of wild flowers as far as you see?
Along creeks buzzing with young flies and bees?
This infant season is my favorite time to live

Take these weary bones and let them
Soak in the season's infant rainfall
Now is the time for rebirth and
Revitalization of the heart