Boy.
You are atrocious;
You are belligerent.
You cocky thing.
You disgust me.

Boy.
You are revolting;
You are untrustworthy.
You are not deserving of my time.
You are worthless.

Don't you dare come back to me.
I won't let you in.
Don't you dare try for me.
I can't let you in.

Boy.
You are idiotic,
Chaotic,
And the least exotic.

You are flour in the kitchen.
You are dandelions blowing in the wind.
You are useless.

You're the puppet now, and
I hold the strings.

You're the bell,
And I'm the freedom that shall ring.

You are nothing if I say you're nothing.
You're something until I give you something.

I created you.
I designed you.
I gave you life.

Don't you dare make me take it away.
Because, boy, I will.

My screams echo off stone cold walls,
the only voices that speak to me.
Trapped inside the darkness that now ensues
where the sun always used to shine through.
Days and nights getting longer
as I desperately grasp onto the crumbling walls of myself,
clawing my way out, always falling hitting the ground.
Alone and afraid of the abilities of my mind
to make oneself feel so alone and worthless.
The thoughts are back...

The ones that tear you apart!

The ones that make you wish you were never born!

The ones that promise to uproot your life!

Or promise to end it, whichever comes first.

Yes! They are back with vengeance since the day I tried to walk away and set myself free.

Now, I am terrified of the repercussion.
The repercussions of believing in myself for so long!

Please don’t fall in love with me
I’m not someone to trust with your heart
I don’t even trust me with mine

Please don’t find me attractive
There are storms raging beneath this surface
Evil things dancing in fire and brimstone

Please don’t desire me
I’ll only let you down just like I do everyone else
I’m not what you want or need

Just keep looking... okay?

Maybe I’m not worth it
What you think about me is wrong

I’m not who I used to be
We aren’t us anymore

You think you know me
You know the memories of someone dead

Forget me and move on

I mostly keep it to my self
Behind the corn flakes, on the shelf
For me It's all about the stealth
The issue of my mental health

Apparently, it's always been
Around my head and in between
But why would I share it with you Irene
Is mine, its for me... Its not your scene

It's only me that struggles and suffers
Hiding my head right under the covers
Doubting myself and scaring off lovers
It's only me, none of the others

Because of that I hide it away
Behind closed doors so they would say
I wish the whole lot would just go away
Then I could continue with my day

But hang on, of course I can make it leave
By wearing my feelings on my sleeve
By shouting about it from the eaves
All I need to do is believe

I could write some poems or even a book
And encourage people to take a good look
I could ask them to hang it on the library hook
Right out the front, Not in the nook

I'll post it on Facebook and all social media
Jesus, it's Depression, not schizophrenia

I'll start next week. That's a good plan
I'll be right in a month. I know that I can
Depression, anxiety I will ban
Then I shall be a bigger man

I mostly keep it to my self
Behind the corn flakes, on the shelf
For me It's all about the stealth
It's the issue of my mental health

It's not insomnia but I skip sleep on regular nights.
I hear voices in the soulless nights…

Aren't you lonely?
Aren't you worthless?
Aren't you depressed?

I feel inferior.
I feel lonely.
I feel needy

But why do I always look happy but not feel it?
It’s empty in me, but why does it feel so heavy?
Sometimes I just hate my own presence...

i’ve taught myself
to be silent when
i shouldn’t,
and now i’m not
when i should,

there i go,
obliviously, relentlessly
and uncontrollably making
my voice worthless and worth less.