#detached
Depression Compression
WHY IS IT PUSHING DOWN ON ME?
Crushing dreams,
Pushing schemes,
and interjecting through my tear-jerked pleas.
They are the constant reminders of detached lies
and the sacrilegious ties that choke me out.
Lying flat on the ground,
rambling on with unsettling doubt.
Mumm, the angst of it all,
cultivating fields like envelopes collapsing,
it becomes too heavy of a mist to see through.
Suddenly, I am relapsing.
Not long ago, I became the sleepless,
dried up tears caked upon my cheek,
yet smiling inside a distant scheme,
I sank further on this whimsical thrill and seek.
One sip, swallow, two sips, then more,
my psychiatrist kept prescribing them,
the hieroglyphs carved on the crypt's wall,
folded in half, inside the traitor's fall.
Talking to four walls and an empty chair,
my therapist kept talking,
repeated verbiage and phrases with no empathic reasoning,
silence became my sanctum and my mind's own seasoning
2d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 12:27 PM UTC
I am white.
Well, I carry Indian blood
And Cape-Malay culture
The taste of biltong in my breath
But I do not know my mother tongue.
No Urdu, no Afrikaans.
And so, I am a foreigner.
Intruding my heritage
Aunts and uncles speak words I cannot understand with pride.
Pronounce every syllable with passion.
And all I can do
Is watch in admiration and envy.
Teach me, I beg.
Feed me your knowledge
Like a chicken to her chicks.
Enlighten me.
All I ever wanted
Was to not be called a coconut
I can eat all the curry in the world
But if I cannot speak my mother tongue
How can I say I am anything but a white girl.
Somebody teach me.
A phrase.
A word.
But they never bother to try.
So I sit alone and cry.
And write in my diary
With English at the tip of my pen.
May 25
May 25, 2026 at 8:52 PM UTC
Derealization is real.
when your hands go numb and start to shake
like they belong to someone else
everything turns a shade of yellow
some blurry some animated
but the outside world changes to
you start to shake.
it will pick you piece by piece
until all that's left
is your mind asking what's real? what's not?
no one warns you
of how absolutely terrifying it is
to feel yourself slip
all you can do is sit
and wait for it to pass
but it doesn't just pass
it curls around your skull
it clouds your head and infects it
like a gas leak
fogging your mind from reality
warping your body's sense of presence
every heartbeat is too loud
every movement feels false
every breath is shallow but never ending
its like being trapped
between reality and a dream
you cant wake from
sometimes you wonder
if this is who you are
or just the sickness
that has lived in your mind
and even when it fades
you carry the echo
the knowledge
that your own brain
can turn against you
and contaminate your version of reality
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 2:58 AM UTC
Despite the talk and chatter,
the laughter and giggles--
I find there is quiet in the noise,
just me and my mind in a silent room.
Apr 24, 2025
Apr 24, 2025 at 11:07 PM UTC
one time
we were floating in the pool
(i don’t know whose)
and you told me about the conversations you were having with your therapist
how she challenged you to make the idea of
killing yourself
so complex that it would just be too much work to do
and as i floated nearby
eyes watching yours
our skin pale and wan in the moonlight and that muted waterglow from beneath us
i remember myself wondering why i knew
that we were never meant to be
our hearts too alike, perhaps
you always called me insane
but i never wanted to **** myself
i never had to come up with plans too obtuse to carry out
i did not tell you my thoughts while we pruned in the darkness
no
instead i longed simply not to be
that every night when i closed my eyes
my consciousness would cease
no future
no tomorrow
no wailing, clawing, inexorable creeping of time
tearing me apart molecule by molecule
i did not wish for death
but i did not wish to live
and trapped in that terrible ennui
you (and you) (and you)
drifted away from me
until the moon clouded over and i was alone
floating in the pool
(i don’t know whose)
Nov 1, 2024
Nov 1, 2024 at 3:43 AM UTC
Must have seen you in a field,
the trampled grass your bed,
your eyes fixed on the sky,
and the sky hanging on blooming fire
and leaves of ashes eloping with autumn–tainted summer.
You didn’t stir,
if not for the fence time drove into the paper soil in between us the song of chaos will probably sing it’s ominous song in my ears.
Not an inch, did you move.
Your thoughts might have been that of your mama, on her porch steps for the hundreds of dinner that waited cold for you that year.
Your papa must have passed a ball to a glove without a hand to hold it up.
Your dear Anna must have been trembling as her heart skipped a beat reading letters written open-endedly.
The hills around you stood mortally wounded, weeping for their trees, still you slept in between those pages while your home collected dust on the shelves that so few of us care to visit.
Still your eyes were fixed on the sky. Unmoved by clouds. Unperturbed by dying sunshine. Shards and shrapnel of ideas burrowing deeper. I knew your lips wanted to part and utter wilting words,perhaps the heaviest word to bear—goodbye.
War has always been indifferent to life.
Oct 9, 2024
Oct 9, 2024 at 11:35 PM UTC
I don’t know anymore, how to feel something again
Feels like I’m drifting, lost in outer space, to god knows where
Unanchored from everything, yet my chest is heavy, eyes are lifeless
Each day repeats itself, every conversation feels hollow, insincere
I bury myself in work, not to build, but to forget
Laughter doesn’t echo, smiles barely stretch, just motions
And if I disappear, would it really matter?
It’s not selfish, just silent. Space swallows sound, and maybe it swallows me too.
In this silence, I lay dormant—
I no longer expect anymore.
There’s no pull, no push, just a vast, empty stretch.
The stars hang motionless, indifferent
and I’m no different
Sep 14, 2024
Sep 14, 2024 at 2:54 PM UTC
time is passing by
at the rate it wants to go
in my head.
time now is stretching out,
as i take
two minutes
to do something
but it feels like
an hour
even now i feel like 3 minutes have passed
but i look at the clock
it’s still the same numbers
i stare at the same digits
over and over
engraved into my brain
but i blink
and they’re gone.
why has it been forty minutes?
i miss the days that i played
with people
and teased them
and laughed with them
but then i blink
i’m still in those days
but im missing something
i don’t even know what
i look to the future
i feel my future regret
maybe i’ve slipped up
in the future i’ll know
i don’t wish to know
but i don’t know
Sep 12, 2024
Sep 12, 2024 at 8:49 AM UTC
in another life,
i want to be your phone.
i would light up in your eyes,
and you would suppress a smile
as you tickle my body with your thumbs.
in the morning,
i would wake up beside you,
your fingers still wrapped around me
like the night before.
at night,
i would have your full attention.
you will play with me in bed,
even as your lids grow heavy.
when you don't sense me close,
it would send your heart racing with unease.
when i ring for your attention,
you will look for me immediately.
"in another life, i want to be your phone,"
i say,
looking up into your eyes.
"that's silly,"
you respond,
looking down at your phone.
Dec 6, 2023
Dec 6, 2023 at 9:56 AM UTC
between
the monstrosities
of glass, concrete and steel,
i spy
an infinite expanse of Mediterranean blue sky,
transporting me to a spiritual high.
way up there,
a self absorbed lonely eagle
soars in ecstasy,
untouched
by the noise and suffering
going on down here.
© 2022
Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 9:36 AM UTC
moving backwards farther than before
can’t look at myself anymore
they made me bruise my skin
generosity is lame
authenticity is a facade
your empty promises will buy it all
jealousy resides in my heart to this day because of them
flashbacks haunt me
green lights guide me down away from reality
save me from my former
a sad child out for revenge
cold to touch
fully detached and shaking
haunting visions of time spent in delusion
lie to feel
lie to escape
feel the power behind that
behind the bile and tears were strength
i regret the times when i had it all
nights spent with myself loathing my own
a boken mirror is like drinking alone
sometimes i think im dying
but i’m not worth saving
break the cycle
but what’s the point
Dec 9, 2021
Dec 9, 2021 at 1:10 PM UTC
I don’t write poems in my language
The pain becomes too real
The wound that’s left is deep
It’s better not to feel
I don’t write poems in my language
I feel detached from this ordeal
Like all this didn’t happen
But writing helps me heal
Oct 11, 2021
Oct 11, 2021 at 8:25 AM UTC
Oh swaying willow tree
lower your branches cover me.
I am so cold without thee.
You're so green and gentle..
give me oxigen and shade,
you bow down gently
as in reverence yet detached
I feel more than gratitude
I too am detached as breeze!
In wonderment of your face
feel my breeze under
your starry sky
You like a hungry kitten
sensing timing to run for it
may it be that my pyramid's
wise winds shake your trunk,
to leaveless ****
blushing in your branches?
Are your hidden
fruits any ripe
you do sway delightfully
My frozen cocoone is detached
my tiny feet from my butterfly
might slightly tickle your fancy
as I voraciously neeble on
your green golden leaves?
will you fear my strong breeze
wild Autumn winds
as your branch may get
detached.?
~~~~~.
By;Mr and Mrs Andrews.
With Karijinbba.
Sep 18, 2021
Sep 18, 2021 at 8:20 PM UTC
It's been a while
since I've written,
maybe I was trying to forget
the pain that I felt
when I put words on the paper,
or maybe it was just regret
of the life gone by
people left detached,
maybe this does not make any sense at all
this uncertainty
is not good for my sanity,
all I need in this world of maybes
is just some security.
Sep 7, 2021
Sep 7, 2021 at 5:58 PM UTC
Why is it that it is when I am most alone, I feel most present?
I feel like an alien on Earth. I do not understand how I was birthed here.
My home is beyond my physical state, my home is beyond my emotions, and even my desires. My home is where none of those things could dream to reach, in all their perversity and incapability. I will not hurry from Earth, but I do know that this does not even slightly resemble my home.
How blessed I am to know what I am not.
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 2:39 AM UTC
My eyes are forever ruined. I see too much, and what I see melts every gold and silver I have embedded in me.
I seem to know too much, but never too much to expand beyond limitations.
Limitations of what the mind can see.
I suffer, a heart of pure diamond, moulded into what others have made me.
I see intentions, crowds of people, lies, pain, truth...
But this gift means nothing to me anymore.
The healing I carry with myself.
I am not heard and listened to.
I feel misunderstood.
What can you do when you have it all?
But something is missing...
I’m smart, intelligent and driven.
Back at school as an adult to complete something important to push myself for further opportunities.
I push myself too hard and suffer defeat when I face failure.
Failure is my only fear.
It’s scary... knowing that without self discipline, where am I to be?
Please stop loving me, I am too sensitive.
Evil, personified.
I am torn, disappointed, disgusted...
Love serves me no purpose anymore.
Buried so deep inside of me is longing and confusion.
Wanting what I can no longer have.
I push away those who do
Too picky?
Too cold, detached from it all.
I want you, only you.
I still think about you.
But I may be wrong, for I have wronged myself into thinking that I will ever see you again.
Yolan.
Broken imagery....
I was so wrong
Darling clairvoyant, please stop ruining me
Mar 15, 2021
Mar 15, 2021 at 5:23 PM UTC
I've become so convincing in the role of myself,
I'm starting to believe it's actually me.
Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 4:12 AM UTC
Is it really what I need?
Or is it what I want?
Do I need to control my habits?
I have been for so long, but I know what happens once I give in to them...
Indecisive, I can’t make up my mind.
I keep switching between different thoughts holding me back, trying to own me.
I pop all alone, for fun.
But it’s love what I seek.
To have someone whom like me, understands me.
Someone dark, intense, emotional, and passionate.
I crave it deep inside but I brushed it off completely letting go of the topic of lovin.
I incoherently, fell in love with the topic of sin.
I need it bad.
I’m feeling ****** and sensual.
I’m feeling seductive and flirtatious.
I want someone close whom I can share that with on a deep level.
I’ve only felt pain, bring the drugs, to numb me again.
Vain, cold veins shivering inside of me.
So detached, love is nothing to me.
Water flowing inside my lungs, fire in my heart, and a devil on my tongue.
I crave depth and intensity with someone.
Love me hard, even if it’s just for one night only.
Nov 22, 2020
Nov 22, 2020 at 9:55 AM UTC
Yes, it was a nightmare
But I haven't
Left it behind
A few days after
My mom reached the stars
And shone down on me
No more by my side
Yet her presence felt
All through the day
Returning to
A semblance of normality
Somehow able to
Reach across the void
Her absence has left
The dark patch
Over our souls
But pretence
Is something that is
As natural
As forgettance.
And I converse
With my dad
Of trivial things
Like they actually
Matter
And I say,
"Appa, I can still
Hear her
In my head”
An alive phantom.
And I sob
Uncontrollably
Waking up
Drenched with salty tears
Detached
From what's real
And what's not.
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 10:21 AM UTC
No.
That’s all i need to say to make something stop
Why care for the things that once mattered in the past
When the ones that mattered in the past didn’t come to last
Honestly, it ***** to ****
We live this life with no breaks nor shortcuts
Suicide is simply an illogical solution
Doing so would diminish my own resolution
I’m growing tired and brittle
I may not be old but i’m hollow
No, not to be edgy in any matter
I wouldn’t care if you went and bantar
If you view me having the lack to emotion
Somewhat of a form of entertainment
I wouldn’t blame you
I invite you to do it
Know that I’ll give no reinvigoration
For your own amusement.
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 12:26 PM UTC
Kindred (II)
by Michael R. Burch
Rise, pale disastrous moon!
What is love, but a heightened effect
of time, light and distance?
Did you burn once,
before you became
so remote, so detached,
so coldly, inhumanly lustrous,
before you were able to assume
the very pallor of love itself?
What is the dawn now, to you or to me?
We are as one,
out of favor with the sun.
We would exhume
the white corpse of love
for a last dance,
and yet we will not.
We will let her be,
let her abide,
for she is nothing now,
to you
or to me.
Published by Songs of Innocence. Keywords/Tags: moon, pale, disastrous, remote, detached, cold, inhuman, lustrous, pallor, love, itself, white, corpse
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 4:37 AM UTC
I’m here.
I exist.
There’s nothing to resist.
I’m not happy, not sad.
I don’t remember how it feels to be mad.
I’m not melancholy. Not depressed.
Not thinking about what comes next.
Just here. Just existing.
So please stop insisting
That I’m upset or unstable.
I'm just sitting at an internal table.
Watching life happen with an unattached view.
Don’t worry, I’m fine.
It passes with time.
No, it wasn’t you.
I promise, I’ll be okay.
I just can’t feel today.
But... it’s better this way.
It’s just my mental defense.
No I’m not tense.
I’m indifferent to everything.
Yes, everything.
I’ll be fine tomorrow.
I promise it’s not sorrow.
Just let me be today,
and tomorrow you’ll see I really am okay.
Dec 4, 2019
Dec 4, 2019 at 9:18 AM UTC