You tell me you love me
(No one loves me)
You tell me people care
(I am alone)
You say I am beautiful
(I am ugly)
You tell me it gets better
(It won’t)

I never believe you that it gets better
But it always does

i finally remembered what it was
to feel happy and content
instead of just "not sad"
the sun comes around more often
sticks around longer
it paints my world in colors more beautiful
than those it gives the sky because suddenly,
when my friends laugh , i can too
and i am loud again
and instead of walking, i skip
suddenly, instead of dreading the day,
i wake up to moments full of potential
and i worry less about every single thing i do
suddenly, being with people
is as invigorating as it used to be
once upon a time ago.
of course, the rain will come again
and the sun will leave with summer
and it is then, especially, that i will hurt again
but suddenly, i have hope.

you tell me i'm beautiful
and i don't feel anything
except maybe a little bit of resentment
you tell me i'm perfect
and i think about the coffee stained mug sitting in the sink
what did i eat today?
there are three wrinkled wrappers of leftover christmas chocolate in my trash can
you ask how i'm doing
and i wonder if i had any water today
no one ever told me
about trying to love someone
when you have an anchor tied to your ankle
do i feel nothing for you
or do i feel nothing at all?
is there a difference?

This day, as winter dies -
cold, and heartless, and exposed - a December which lingers
and feels no shame in subduing me.
It was in January that I was bad; slipping back to ghostly fingers
spectres in the eyes of him, me, you -
others around us that let their busy laughter sit on the roads like mist.
The lonely chattering of teeth under scarves, hot conversations wet with breath dew
Quick thoughts. Openly sad. Feelings persist.
A layer of sleep coated my fingers, my hair. My cold feet.
And beneath my gloved hands danced anothers' thoughts I struggled to know.
Slipping quietly into a slower body; sleeping under a layer of snow.
Soon, I promise, I will get better again. As winter dies.

Winter has arrived in my soul.
Back for another year.
I became still for a whole day.
Wondering what to do.
Wondering what to say.
It creeps slowly into every crack.
My mind it's victim.
Simple things, not so simple anymore.
I open the door to leave.
That winter crisp hits.
Voices of fun,
Voices of warmth engulf
me.
They only create a blanket.
Nothing can get in here,
it's too strong, this feeling.
I walk through crowded streets
As cold as the new winter air
This old familiar feeling back again
I didn't appreciate serotonin until now
Oh what I'd do to have it all back.
This old enemy is destroying me.
It's corrupting my thoughts.
I sit like a crumb to the earth, a tiny
speckle of air
Oxygen guzzling human
Someone eat me, give me purpose.
Take this left over and give it a point.
Silence on a saturday evening, peculiar for me.
The only life going on is outside my window.
Car radios blasting the latest chart
Getting ready for a night on the town.
The life is usually inside of me.
Not tonight.
This is a different Saturday night.
Tonight the demon returned.
Four months it will stay.
Take it away, far far away.
I feel see-through like a pane of glass
Waiting to be smashed
Check if there's something inside, please.
The glass is still, it doesn't move.
It's delicate, transparent.
The glass is prettier than me. By far.
I am so still.
Staring at the candlelight.
This Saturday feels so wrong.
There's colour all around me
yet I'm so black and white
I want all the colours of the world to
jump inside me and hold me tight.
I want them to stay and never
let go.
I want to feel everything possible,
in the most beautiful of ways.
Smash the glass, enter my soul
Let it rise from the pits of despair
From this sea of melancholy
Let it erase my troubles and dark wonders
And let it burn bright
And most crucially
Let these flames burn forever,
Forever to ignite

I wish it were Autumn
the blistering rays of the summer sun
weigh me down just as heavily as winter's snow
the opportunity of summer suffocates me
similarly to the winter's sudden shadows

I bloom like a lily in April but shrivel like a garden unattended in June
I am the cool mist in the air in October that you miss as you sweat in the heat in July

I watch my spirit on a
snowflake
falling softly, gently, slowly
drifting, taking its time
so beautiful in its descent
until it rests
on the cold ground
just to vanish,
melt away,
and with it my spirit
disappears.