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It is all about how we think
We fall towards what we lose
We love the one who is unreachable
We tend to forget who stays in front of us
We regret the chances we don’t take
We met the people who didn’t mean to remain
We touch the sky and hit the ground
We stand up again and lost in a crowd
Lilly F Aug 18
I had to cut you off
not from my life
but from the way you use me,
as your drug
your medication
your therapist
your twelve-step program
because your process of healing,
has become your addiction

LK Aug 2
I’m sure you’ve been around to see
There is this thing called ther-a-py

Once I went into this room
This girl, she asked me how I do

So schools been good? she asked
Sure, Sure, I answer fast

This girl, I do not know her well
But I know her just enough to tell

I won’t be pouring out my heart
I will not show my broken parts

She expects to show up just one night
And dig deep down into my life

So first, she says, I have to question
Through all of this so-clear depression

Ever the thought inside your brain
To cause yourself a physical pain?

Or a single thought inside your head
That you might wish that you were dead?

No, not once, not ever, I say,
Not a single time, not every day

But had she just rolled up my sleeve
She’d see the bitter scars that bleed

And had she cared to see my hand
Would never claim to understand
Nigdaw Jul 20
I gave my sadness to my cat
it fitted his deadpan face
and generally glum demeanour,
he had the personality for it
besides it made him cute,
and a massive hit with the ladies

of course, I couldn’t really
give my sadness to my cat
apart from it being really unfair,
on my best friend and only true
companion, it is ridiculous
to think that an animal is depressed,

though I am, even with his support
endless nights listening to my troubles
his expressionless face understanding
every word, he helps me of course
having to look after someone who relies
on you, makes you feel wanted,

useful, almost powerful in some ways
but after all he is just a cat, however
much I try to make him human,
did I tell you he talks, not really
I think I probably need a therapist
and he just needs to be a cat,

it’s what he does best after all.
Noah Rein Jul 15
In the clearing you find
That dawn has arrived
And in the silence you know
You have survived

You sit down and sigh
As the morning sun rises
The road has been long
And full of surprises

You’d like to go home
there’s still a long way
This isn’t the end
You’ve lived to see another day

The trees seem to hum
And the morning dew glitter
You can’t believe you wanted to be done
can’t believe you used to be so bitter

It’s time to get up now
Time to start walking
There’s a long way home
And no time for stopping

Things will get better
At the end of this road
You will find a place to rest
A place to unload
Follow up poem to A tragedy it is. The poems are about being at the bottom of depression and realizing you need help. The road in this poem is symbolic to going to a therapist, which can be a really hard thing; to find a therapist that suits you and can actually help can be really hard.
thesa May 26
my therapist tells me
i should get rid of everything that's toxic in my life
however, i can't give up on you
since out of all the pain i feel
the one you cause
is the sweetest
Saw another counselor today.
Heard her say my homicidal urges weren’t serious.
Tasted annoyance on the tip of my tongue.
Smelled the new white paint on the walls.
Felt nothing but hatred.
Hunter Green Apr 14
I can’t stop writing.
I’ve stopped thinking,
And started pouring my feelings out through my fingers.
I find some release, but this sharp pain always lingers.
What comfort can I find writing down these ineffable emotions,
When perfect words surround me like oceans?
Nomkhumbulwa Mar 9
He lives just round the corner,
A little boy of only 4 years old;
Born so long before his time,
He is not a typical 4 year old.

He has already survived so much,
Just in this very short time;
Conquered everything he has faced,
Time and time again.

He is kind of a miracle,
Or at least I think he is,
For in his earliest days
Only his mummy truly knew he would live.

I changed my last verse
As I failed to give him credit,
Nobody knew if he would pull through,
But I believe his mummy knew he would make it.

She too is a miracle,
A pillar of never ending strength,
She deserves a poem of her own,
To make it all make sense.

But I chose to write about Callum,
As he is a very special little boy;
After all that he has been through,
He has brought with him so much joy.

He's had tubes up his nose,
Things pumped into his belly,
But taken it all in his stride,
Eyes glued to the telly.

He may be a little behind,
In terms of speech and development,
But he certainly makes up for that
In terms of enjoyment.

He battled to enter this world,
And so rightly so;
Callum firmly belongs here
Anyone who knows him would say so.

His speech has come on leaps and bounds,
Just in these recent months,
So nice to hear him talking,
Talking and able to make sense.

He does have his melt downs,
Not able to get his point across,
But all to be expected,
We line up cars and let it pass.

What I really wanted to write about
Is what he has done for me;
This little boy with all his problems
Has had such an impact on me.

I do not think about what he cannot do,
What he can say, whether he can tie his shoe,
I simply appreciate the way he is,
And focus on what he can do.

In my struggles in my strange world,
Callum is an absolute delight,
I know his mummy sees more of the other side,
I've only been there for short periods of day or night.

For anyone with anxiety
Callum is highly medicinal;
One of the many reasons I believe
That he is a medical miracle.

I maybe shaking before hand
But after spending time with Callum,
I leave calm and relaxed,
As well as having had so much fun.

With his cheeky little smile,
And a head once full of many curls,
His little eyes would melt anyones heart
They light up the room, as he pulls it apart.

He's now a tough little cookie,
He's shown that many a time;
Whether its suffering cold after cold,
Or outside barefeet on the stones!

He knows how to get up to mischief,
We play the light switch game a lot;
He knows what he wants from the kitchen,
He will take you by the hand and tell you whats what!

To me Callum has a bright future,
Regardless of being a little behind;
There is so much more to life,
Than just doing things at the right time.

To me its a "symbiosis",
In Biological terms,
I look after him,
But he helps me too, in return.

I dont know what he will be when he's older,
But I do know he's already a therapist!
"Callum sitting on prescription"
Should be a common request!

I could write so much more about Callum,
But my brain right now is in a mess,
Although when I see him again,
I'm sure he'll re-wire it, and put it to the test!

He is a special little boy,
With a bright shining light;
A bright shining flashing light in fact -
We all know how much he loves lights!

One day he may be embarrassed,
When mummy reads him this rhyme;
When he's old enough to understand,
And to reflect on these lines.

But Callum, all I can say is Thank you -
For brightening all our lives;
Thank you so much Callum-
You help me to survive :)

....lots of love...Aunty Emma :) ***
I wrote this a while back, for my neighbour.  But I didnt want to share it until I had given it to her.
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