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 Aug 2014 Jaclyn Ciriello
Helen
I don't know what it's like to want to die
but I know what it's like to watch
I know what it's like glance at the hours
waiting,
it's like looking at a clock
that goes backwards and the cuckoo
that would normally come out to play
pokes it head out and announces
"There is no time today"

I don't know what it's like to wither
I know what it's like to cease in time
staring at the wall is fascinating for you
but all the same, I'm watching that wall
and waiting for you to be sane

I don't know how it feels for you
but how about how it feels for me?
I don't live inside your brain
but you don't exist in there,
independently

I don't know how it feels for you
I know how it feels to me
we both don't want to open the garage door
you see rafters that could make you fit
I see gone my forever more

I won't pretend I know how you feel
when you cry so inconsolably
If you don't ever try to forget
I was there, to dry your tears
the tissue shredded
by more than your fears
I don't know how it feels
but I do know what I see
*I ask you to see me
I have only known depression from a carers point of view. I know nothing of how it feels to actually feel it but, as someone who has long termed cared for a love one of a mental illness, I kind of have an idea. While they have their support and medications, the carers just have their strength and memories...

#KCsPoetryContest
I'm tired.
tired of being sad
tired, of the things we said,
we'd never do, but then we did.
tired of the f l a s h b a c k s, from when I was a kid.
And Jeez, I'm tired, of hearing "I'm Sorry"
especially in my own voice.
I'd live without apologies.
If it were my own choice.
I'm just tired,
tired of you.
tired of being used.
tired of bleeding out.
tired of being bruised.
Just tired.
of laughing without being amused.
tired of fake smiles.
tired of traveling sixty miles for a second of your time.
tired of all these floating words that rhyme.

Do you ever feel too tired for sleep, or so it seems?
I think, I'm just tired of seeing you in all my dreams.

— The End —