Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
mledoe Dec 2021
Bittersweet.
Hot and cold.
Sweet and sour.
Both extremes with no in-between.
The excitement is life-giving.
The pain is gut wrenching.
A drug that fills the emptiness.
But slowly kills you inside.
The bittersweet feeling of unrequited love.
mledoe Sep 2019
“Do you really think we’ll make it to the end without giving up?”
asked the mind.
“I’m really exhausted but she sure is a fighter!”
said the body.
“We will not give up and we will keep on fighting no matter what!”
exclaimed the heart.
We will fight this. No matter what.
mledoe Sep 2019
Today was such a good day.
“why don’t you just die?!”
I’m not even that tired.
“Stop lying to yourself.”
I can’t believe I woke up early.
“why don’t you slit your wrists when you get home.”
And I still have all this energy.
“Nobody loves you.”
Ooohhh it’s almost Christmas!
“You have no one.”
Time flew by so fast!
“They’ll get over your death.”
It’s almost my birthday too!
“Your existence is pointless.”
I sure am getting old!
“You have nothing to live for.”
I am slowly dying. jeez.
“Why don’t you just die then?!”
Conversation in my mind while walking home.
mledoe Sep 2019
Maybe if I tell my depression
That I will never get tired of it,
and I will always be here for it,
it will leave me too.
Cause that’s what they all say
and yet they leave anyway.
Probably the only time in my life that something/someone leaves and I’ll be happy.
mledoe Sep 2019
Yesterday I had to choose
between taking a one way trip to the unknown
or staying.
In this place
of loneliness,
sadness,
emptiness,
and hatred.
I chose to stay.
The familiarity of the misery
seems much more comforting
than the promised peace of the unknown.
It’s one of those trips that I’ve been wanting to take but I’ve been putting off like Fjaerland, Norway. The only difference between Fjaerland and this trip of the unknown is that this trip only has a one way ticket. Once I decide to board this plane there is not turning back.
mledoe Sep 2019
Sometimes I’m on top of the world
then someone pushes me.
Even the slightest touch
Sends me spiraling down
into the sinkhole
that I tried to escape for years.

It’s dark here.
I cannot breathe.
The silence is deafening.
I cry for help
but the only response I hear
is the echo of my own voice.
Sometimes I wonder if this is home because I keep on coming back no matter how far I run away. I sure hope not. What a terrible life it would be to get stuck in this place.

— The End —