for i cannot tell a lie
i really do hate being alive
i hate knowing that there's a mere six litres of blood in our bodies
that's three two-litre bottles of soda
three two-litre bottles of soda
is all that keeps me here
and i hate it
i hate knowing that the leafcutter ant can hold up to fifty times its weight in its jaw
and i can't even hold myself up throughout the day
for there is no one weaker than i
no one who has struggled as much as i
and i hate it
i hate knowing
that the people i once knew
and opened myself up to
have blocked me out of their minds
but i can't seem to get them out of mine
i hate that so much
but i'm not filled with hate
i love the moon
the moon is all i have left in life to look up and look forward to
and on the nights where he hides
and i can only see him behind closed eyes
i hope he can still hear me
when i tell him i've been doing just fine
and i'm not lying
i really mean it, i swear
i mean
it's just so hard these days, you know?
wish you were here
spoken word vent poem meant to be about depression now it's just desperation and mourning