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Specs Jan 8
Depression
hit like a train.

a jolt.

derailed.

blackness.

No Survivors
Specs Nov 2018
Always listen to your body,
But don’t always trust the mind.
your flesh and bones want happiness,
Your brain won’t be so kind.
Specs Oct 2018
I decided to hold on
For one more day.
But even still, weeks later,
My thoughts won’t go away.
I don’t even know what I’m clinging onto amymore

Also, definitely wrote this while dissociating, so I have no recollection of writing this. Weird
Specs Sep 2018
I’ve been depressed all week
But she‘s been too.
She shares her coping methods
And she’s praised and supported.
I share mine and I get a single
“Nice.”

I’m the one willing to take bullets
For those who can’t take five minutes
To make sure I haven’t drowned
While lifting others so they can breathe.

At this point it’s not even them.
I’m force-feeding words into their mouths
As I watch them go about their lives.

I know that
They’re busy.
They’re tired.
They’re taking a personal day.
They’re working on themselves.
And I understand that.

But whenever
I’m busy,
I’m tired,
I’m taking a personal day,
Or I’m working on myself,
I’m there at the drop of a hat.

I’m the one taking bullets
For those that can’t take five minutes
To realize that maybe, just maybe
I need help too.

Irrelevant.
The delayed introduction after the
“How have you beens?”
“Fine and yous?”
“I’ve been great, I have this story...”
Minutes pass before I’m even thought of,
And by then I’ve excused myself.

I’m the one that’s taking bullets
For those that can’t take five minutes.
I’m taking you out and bringing you in
But I can only take so much.

I’m so desperate to be important to someone
That I don’t know how to be important to myself.
Even the saying of “one is sliver and one is gold”
Is unintentionally excluding.
I’m surrounded friends and their golds
But there are so many golds there’s not room for bronze.

I’m the one taking bullets
For those that can’t take five minutes
To realize that I give more than I take
And that I’ve given away my soul.

A sick feeling in my stomach,
But if I bring it up,
I know you’ll have it worse.
So I swallow my bile
And stretch out a smile.

I’m the one taking bullets
For those who can’t take five minutes
To see that I’ve made it out
Of the burning building too.

I’ve laid myself out as a doormat.
So why do I complain when people wipe their feet?

I’m the one taking bullets
For those who can’t take five minutes
To see that I am
Broken.
I’m tired of meaning nothing to everyone
Specs Sep 2018
I just want to stop
Being sad.

I’m the happiest I’ve been for years
But it still is not happiness.

“Happy” is not
The right word

Because I’m only ever sad,
And not.

So when I say
“I just want to stop,”

I really mean
I want to

Start
Being happy.
I’m sick of feeling depressed there’s literally no reason lol what’s wrong with my brain
Specs Jul 2018
A girl is standing on a ledge.
A stale breath of air on the back of her neck
Urges her to step forward.
She turns, but no one is there
But the sky.

A girl is sitting in the bathroom,
All but ripping and shredding her flesh to bits.
A chuckle from the drain
As water and red gurgles,
Gurgles away.

A girl is laying in bed,
The creaks and moaning whines from the house
Echo loudly in her ears.
“What would happen,” it asks, “if you broke through the glass
And leapt out the window?”

A girl is followed,
Footsteps in time with her own,
Chased and haunted by every feeling, sound, and thought.
It seems the spirits have her too,
Because she still continues to smile.
I am my own nightmare
Specs Jul 2018
I remember long ago I used to thirst for life;
Never did I worry about ticking time or strife.
Now I see before me, sweet life I used to devour.
I take a reluctant sip but now all I taste is sour.
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