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We are aware of the darkness that a judgmental mind could never interpret,
regrettably a sympathetic one whom may never understand,
the unfortunate occasion that you may never comprehend,
nevertheless, the inconsolable thoughts taking possession as we ill-advisedly perceive it all.

We plead with our wits next to the shadowy void to pull itself together for the considerate rope, thrown by the aiding, observant heart, whom questionably believes they may be witness to a faltering mind.
Observing the consciousness of the defeated soul that appears to be in despair without hope,
whos only aspirations seem simply to be a desire for a purpose, if not just appreciated for unobserved accomplishments,
but as the Darkness appears it’s difficult to grasp the disoriented, desolated mind that was ******, abruptly upon us.

As much as you try to alleviate the agony you attest to see, handing over your own strength you long to be received,
There is still the over-whelming pull of our defective mind,
discouraging thoughts that blind the help being offered that we push aside,
we feel the need of fight or fly, as we flee to our merciless evacuation,
It’s in that moment we freely descend,
Diving into the captivating abyss,
With the knowledge of knowing we may never ascend again.
            
You can’t hear the darkness’s dialogue, but we listen to the seductive silence as the chemicals misalign,
the reckless, misguided drop into the blinding dark hole that feels numb in awareness, but aching to touch,
the darkness can speak for as long as we reluctantly consent,
despite the fact it leaves us feeling insignificant,
we let darkness define us and at times its abundant touch is imprudently enough to keep us retreating to darkness’s lair for refuge from our detrimental behavior.

We reach, we scream, we dig our nails into the muddy wall, but the hole is too deep; the rope isn’t long.
Maybe it’s a test as you climb the roots; but the darkness is still there grabbing at your legs, whispering to you that you’re meant to be here instead.
“It’s safe here!” Darkness says.  “They can’t get you here! They may get past that concrete wall, but not in this destitute of twigs and straw, but if they do, they could get stuck, too, maybe I’ll haunt them instead of you?”
I should have known how easy it was to fall so gracelessly into a shadowy hole that I know shows when prompted by self-possessed triggers in life that you can’t help but let devour the night.
We find ourselves asking if we should even reach up.
We began to wonder if the hole was meant to collect what we feel is broken and left for dead.
Some find us weak, but they have no clue,
When we do choose to be, we fight this battle almost daily, so you can’t say what weakness is,
When you’ve never needed the strength to fight the dark to begin with.

By,
Natalie M. Lawrence
I suffer from manic depression and when I become manic I write. I am also an advocate for mental health and try to find ways for others who don't suffer to understand what it's like while at the same time letting those who do know that they are not alone.
So in this Darkness is the fight we are up against. Always.
Jamie Lee Oct 2018
Waking up next to you, and what do I see?
A smirk and a kiss, coming from someone happy
Your eyes cloudy from all of that dreaming
But clearly there's things between the lines
That I'm not reading

I have been questioned if I knew the person I loved
And I have answered yes, with such confidence
With a smile that could break boundaries, but apparently ignorant
How could I not know the other half of myself? My dearest friend?
But I see your scriptures, your withering sentiment
There are things I do not know yet

I have tried to crack open the skull and see what's inside
I wonder how much truth all find, and see how many lies have been fed to me
I could just live in ignorance, continue to think I know and live so easily
I have given life times of love
But is it enough?
Oh, maybe the lies just please me
But there are things in between the lines of your poetry that I am not reading

The insides of you may only be a stranger, I only know the paths of your skin
And the corners of your smile, and the symphony of laughter
I will continue to be on the outside, circulating my way in, but always meet a guard at the door
Pointing me the other way, from the person I adore
And who is that? I do not know anymore.
It is you, but who are you?

So many demons of yours that I have never been introduced too.
I thought my empathy and my heart had a couple of uses
Maybe I want you hold you, and kiss your bruises
Maybe I want you to take me down the dark hallways, past the guards and the locks
To tell me about your drug uses, and all of your abuses

But you sprinkle me with stardust until I am stunned
Keep me occupied with your words and your tongue
Keep me sleeping, 12 hours around the clock, over time
Keep me from reading in between the ******* lines
Anno Sep 2018
It ticks
Like a bomb
Inside a cave
When it explodes
It only has one place to go
Out the way it came
With fast wind
Hot fire
And death
That follows
May 29, 2013 6:59pm
A Rivers Sep 2018
I'm so ******* fidgety
Restless, Ill at ease
If I can't sleep I'll just take the furniture apart
Maybe I'll relax if I can just feel smart
Dismantle the coffee table
Deconstruct to not feel ******
Pull everything to pieces
Time returns with the light through the window
For most a signal for a new day
But for me a shining sign I let my night slip away
No sleep for the ******* freak
I deserve all I get
Smash everything just to forget
But the memory just won't leave
Hopeless action to just decieve
I'm living everyday and night in fear
Of my inevitable next trip to Ikea
Emily McClelland Jul 2018
Emotion burgeons with each passing day,
becoming indolent through exhaustion.
Calling for help imperatively,
but not being heard through a cloud so thick.
Emily McClelland Jul 2018
Adulate the figure above,
allowing for hope and grandiosity to take hold.
In a mind so broken, it must crack to be restored.
Jaine Feb 2018
Bipolar is a tricky thing
One second is the time of you life
The next your wishing for death
You confuse people with your emotions
Little do they know
They confuse you too
You wish you were normal
You wish you could change
But this is your life
Forever confused
I am over this "happiness is a mindset"-"find a love that makes you forget you were ever depressed"-"medication changes your personality"-"just think happy thoughts"-"have you tried yoga?" *******.
Nowadays, everyone has self diagnosed depression- and won't shut up about it.
And now when I say "I've had manic-depression and was diagnosed with it when I was 9." what most people think I mean was "I need attention, and I have to be like everybody else."- tumblr is my life- *******.
Happiness is a mindset that I was never wired to have, and I am not in control of changing the programming from the inside. I cannot forget that I was ever depressed, when I have known depression since I took my first breath of fresh air out of the womb- as if it's woven into the very fabric of my skin- and I know my skin about as well as I know myself and I've been stuck with both my entire life- an invisible twin that I never ******* asked for. Sure, medication changes my personality-. It makes me function like a normal human being, instead of one that wants to swallow all of those pills and stop breathing- for no reason other than a lack of the same chemicals you can find in that pill that I take into my mouth and swallow every day as if it is my soul that I am swallowing, and not a chalky, white tablet. I cannot think happy thoughts when that it a language that I do not speak and no matter how I have tried to learn, I just can't seem to get the grammatical structure correct- don't even get me started about conjugating verbs because my depression prevents me from doing a ******* thing anyways. I cannot just do some ******* yoga, because all that does is make my body stronger- it cannot alter and rewire my brain to suddenly do something it's never done, and I cannot begin to tell you all of the ways my therapist and I have tried to figure out a way to wave a magical ******* wand and suddenly I'm cured, and how my therapist definitely is not a ******* fairy, and my psychiatrist is really just my potions master, how I've been on **** near every kind of pill, how those pills have kept me alive, how if I miss even one dose, suddenly I imagine how jumping off of a building is the exact way that I want to end this agony- but with no reason to jump, nothing pushing me. Except maybe the fact that having manic depression, gives me more depression- like a never ending plant that just is.. always in ******* season, and boy do I have some ******* allergies.
I cannot begin to tell you how it felt to be 9 years old when my father sat me down and asked me point blank "Honey- you look sad, all the time. Why are you sad?" and bursting into tears like a water fountain bursting a pipe and saying "Daddy, I don't know. I just am. I always am."
Lou Van Kampen Nov 2016
bring your kiss upon my kiss


eyelashes intertwine with mine


laying heavy atop my chest


you always know for me what's best


pay no mind to inflicting pain


your angels mind is past insane


in my head you always linger


my little demons who provoke


wrapping fingers around my throat


inhale me sweetly as I choke
Lou Van Kampen Oct 2016
my mind is muddled
ash settles
nestling amongst the chemicals
the monsters tounges
blackened flames
lick the walls
just beneath the temples
my heart is swollen
heavy
the oil inflates
ink coated fibers
the valves are clogged
my human taken over
the creatures disregard
my fragile being
convincing me otherwise
with words so poetic
where the hurt comes from
that i'm uncertain
& it terrifies me to know
that perhaps they will devour
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