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hale-salafiaPoems
It stings, My arm, But I'm used to it. I'm used to the sick way the pain gives me something to feel And how my heart stops pounding quite so hard When red spills down my arm Instead of feeling better Here I am Writing ****** poetry in the midst of relapse Waiting for the antidepressants to finally kick in So that maybe for once I won't always feel like I'm sinking This ball and chain called depression Keeps holding me back I can no longer launch myself into your arms I am forced to crawl, To carry this burden Until my arms can no longer support me I'm done. I'm tired. I want to be alone But interspersed with the hauntings Thoughts of living Breathing Laughing Sneak their way into my mind And tonight I want to live
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
Train of Thought
It stings, My arm, But I'm used to it. I'm used to the sick way the pain gives me something to feel And how my heart stops pounding quite so hard When red spills down my arm Instead of feeling better Here I am Writing ****** poetry in the midst of relapse Waiting for the antidepressants to finally kick in So that maybe for once I won't always feel like I'm sinking This ball and chain called depression Keeps holding me back I can no longer launch myself into your arms I am forced to crawl, To carry this burden Until my arms can no longer support me I'm done. I'm tired. I want to be alone But interspersed with the hauntings Thoughts of living Breathing Laughing Sneak their way into my mind And tonight I want to live
#suicide#depression#self-harm#relapse#uncontrolledtrainofthought
hale-salafia
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hale-salafia
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
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