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Aug 2015
you ever get that feeling—
you know that feeling.
it’s that feeling you get
when you’re sitting in your room,
the lights are off
(or on, it doesn’t really matter)
and suddenly the world

stops

for a second.
your eyes refocus,
but everything’s blurry now,
you can’t breathe,
you’re swimming,
drowning,
flailing through smoke,
sludge—
the emotions
that swell up, in,
out of your chest
in the form of tears.

you know that feeling—
do you know that feeling?
it hurts, and it’s suffocating,
it tells you
“you can’t do it,
you’re a mess,
why are you here,
stop trying, stop
lying to yourself,
it won’t get any better,
you’re a waste of space,

just die.”

i know that feeling.
only it’s not a feeling.
sometimes it’s a state of mind,
a frame of perception,
a weeping shudder
where you want to cry
and you can choose to do so.
but you don’t.
it hurts, doesn’t it?
it tears through you,
doesn’t it?

i don’t know what you feel.

i know what i feel, but
i can’t name it.
there has to be a better word
than “depression,”
because depression
sounds like you’re stuck in a
deep rut with no way out,
and there has to be a way out.
other people have a way out.

and what does it mean to be
“suicidal” anyway?
to me, it’s a reminder—
i have a trigger in my hands,
and i can pull it any time—
but i don’t want to remind myself;
because for me, a reminder means
death,
and while i don’t care for death
i care for disappointment,
and—

i made a promise
and i curse it,
but it’s a promise,
so unless i want a
needle in the eye,
i’ll keep it.

so.

do you know this feeling?
i’d rather you didn’t.
i’d rather you move on with life
never having to know this feeling,
never having to struggle
to get out of bed,
having to suffocate
inside yourself,
having to hate what you are.
and if you do know this feeling,
i hope this is the last of it.
i really hope so.

in the mean time, however,
i’ll be here.
if you ever get that feeling,
again or otherwise,
i’ll be here,
drowning and suffocating,
sinking underwater.
but i’ll be alive.
no matter how much it hurts,
i’ll be alive.

and i’d like to be alive with you.
sometimes i'm more optimistic than i really feel. i actually kept this for a while wondering if i would post it or not, but i decided eventually that there would be nothing lost if i did.

for all of you that are too busy and too tired with being busy and tired, please take a break and care for yourself. for all of you that take care of others and neglect yourself, know that people do care.
Written by
Al
412
   PoetryJournal
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