Dreams are not the stuff of poets
We can do better, should not chase them
Dreams are the stuff of lost souls
and though some of them can write
I do not know why we reward it
with forgetful immortality, when the Gods
they have abandoned dreamers
to the desert of the real
my spine does not know of dreams
my tail lashing even in its rest
this whip-crack vertebrae does not forget
and the Gods can get fucked
Escitalopram is an SSRI.
It is supposed to make me
It makes me
which I guess is the same thing?
I have known joy
as I told my love that
she is my best friend
and when she told me
I looked beautiful at prom.
I have known grief
as I lost my son to
the caressing fingertips of what lies
beyond the veil.
I prefer that grief
and will feel it every moment
waking or asleep
if it means I can feel anything
I have these issues
I can't begin to explain
I try to fight them, but always lose
all the loss and heartache, burning a hole in my brain
I walk into the darkness
each step is a painful memory
no light bright enough to spark this
so each day I try to enter a new and exciting reverie
But to my hopeful eyes
I am blindly surprised that the hurt goes on
working beyond the fixtures of my medicated pain
winning the battle between me and my vengeful brain.
I have these issues
Call upon the troubadours
who are unaware of the telephone:
to them it was ghosts coming through on wires.
Darkness empowered imagination,
and light caused it to surrender.
Now I ask, "How's the weather?"
And you bring up the past.
The fire that still burns between us
extinguished by time.
Time has this rotting effect--
when a clock can be reconstructed,
but never turned back.
Used to be in lust,
but I just say fine
the only time I meant it was
when you were mine,
living inside my mind.
They sent me away in April
when we stopped talking completely-
I saw you outside my barred windows
looking out upon the horizon
met with kisses from the pavement.
My vertigo didn't plague me anymore,
when all I wanted was to soar.
They reintroduced us inside a paper cup,
you were blue, white, and green.
Tasted of nothing,
self-immolation seemed like something out of a movie scene.
Saw you in my dreams,
but never awoke with you next to me.
You were never watching over me in the mirror reflection.
You stopped coming, ending the affection.
I'm still wondering where you've gone,
when I was released
they said you'd take your time
but perhaps with the changing chemicals running amuck
in my brain,
you'd show me a sign?
When starting to date me
Please be careful
I’m very fragile and sad
And I’ll take everything to heart
I think I’m the worst
Even though I know I’m not
So don’t trust my smile when I say
“I am pretty”
I think I’m horrible
No matter how many friends I have
Or how many relationships I’ve gone through
I will never think you love me
Or even like me
Because you’re only putting on a facade because you know I’m sad
I know you’re pitying me
I dont have real friends
Boyfriends or girlfriends
They’re all just pity
So when you start to date me
Please dont be offended when I start to hide away
You’re getting close to me
And I’m scared of hurting you
You’ll give me your love
You’ll stay up late when I’m sad
You’ll get concerned when I dont answer
Because you think I finally caved into depression
But I havent
I may be thinking about it
Ways to do it
How you’ll react
But I won’t
And I’m not quite sure
And I’m sorry in advanced
Because I will hurt you
I will make you feel worthless
Because no one understands whats going on in my head
And I’m scared to tell you whats going on in my head
So when you start to date me
You’ll be dating my mental illnesses too
They control my mind and how I think
Even when I know they’re wrong
They’re always right
Understand that I am trying
Even when I’m in bed at 12 in the afternoon
Even when I havent left the house or eaten in days
I am trying to get better
I know taking my meds will help
But I hate knowing that I need medication to feel healthy
I want to feel like everyone else
I want to feel healthy and worthy
But I cant unless I take 35mg of a certain drug
I have to take drugs to feel happy
Even when I’m ‘happy’
I still want to die
I always want to die
On our first date at a restaurant
All I can think about running out into the street and getting hit
When you start to date me
Because I’m not what you get upfront
I’m not happy
I’m not sassy
Nor am I confident
I am trying to fool you into liking me
Because I know no one else can
I am following societies rules
Because I’m scared of the looks I get if I dont
On my happiest days
I will still go home and look at the pile of untaken medication
I wonder why they give medication to someone who’s suicidal
Also understand that I have planed my death 10 different times
I am not what you think I am
But please play along and pity me
I have grown so accustomed to danger
and that has resulted in mixing alcohol and antidepressants
and anti anxiety medication.
And I feel fine.
As fine as nausea can be.
As fine as dizziness can be.
As fine as not fine can be.
But I have grown accustomed to danger.
A pill for this
A pill for that
But it could cause this
And it could cause that
But take it anyway
And see if you live
If you do, great
Now we can control you
Don't worry darling
It won't hurt.
To do this and that
Who knows anymore?
A piece of me that
Gets taken away
A contradiction in itself
A scalpel cuts
Away pieces of me
To be dissolved into
For a building to
And only be
Taken down for a
Never to be seen
When will it end
Day in and day out
I fill my hand
Confidence is something we're allegedly taught
but somehow all of my teachings were naught
you see, I glazed over the part about self-compassion
the rest of my life spent in similar fashion
I try to re-learn all that my mind misconstrued
the hope I harbor within, I can't exclude
all I need is a bout of trust, courage, and medication
my aim is a newfound liberation