#teenagedepression
I wish that I was dead.
The thought has scared me for as long as I can remember.
and it scares me because I'm terrified at how close the thought becomes reality each day.
At school; walking by the main road to class, building up the courage to throw myself into the busy traffic.
At home; the knowledge that there are razors in the room behind me.
At night; the morbid dream scenarios my mind creates.
I wish that I was dead.
I wish that I was dead.
But I don't want to feel the slow pain of suicide.
You have no idea how grateful I would be if someone could take the choice away from me - if I could be caught in a horrible accident, or develop a fast-acting and fatal disease.
And I know it sounds like a horrible thing to say, but I really do.
I wish that I was dead.
I wish that I was dead.
I cant do anything some days without screaming the words in my head.
IwishIwasdeadIwishIwasdeadIwishIwasdeadIwishIwasdead.
I know that so man people have it so much worse than me.
I know that I'm selfish.
I know that I would put the people I love through hell.
But,
I wish I was dead.
I wish I was dead.
I can't bear the pain I cause myself.
The pain I cause others.
The pain they cause me.
I could scream the truth to them in a pool of my own blood, and they would still ask; "why did you have to make such a mess?"
Nothing that I do matters anymore.
Nothing that I do is worth it now.
Even the things that I love hurt me endlessly.
I wish I was dead.
I wish I was dead.
The people I love and the people who love me.
They don't even realise that they **** me with every breath.
Every word.
Every heartbeat.
I know that they love me. Now.
but I'm not sure how much more of their punishment I can endure.
they don't even notice.
God,
I wish I was dead.
I wish I was dead.
And there is nothing that anyone can tell me that will change that. Not forever.
Because what I say, I mean with my whole heart;
I have loved.
I have been loved.
I have known true happiness,
and I have known true pain.
And still,
I wish that I was dead.
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 11:37 AM UTC
CBW: Broken nails claw hollow eyes,
Lifeless breath gasps slow demise,
Stifled are my solemn cries,
Forever failed, my many tries
To work my way out of this rut, this godforsaken hole, but like dust upon rock bottom are the fragments of my soul.
The pent up pressure, the murky waters of creative flow,
Now soaks the floors like poisoned blood,
A concentrated woe.
Alas, the shadows,
my sunken home,
It's where I'm told I should belong,
And you expect a simple answer when you ask me what is wrong..
DDF: To expect a simple answer
when I ask,
"What is wrong?"
is an accusation burning in rhythm
of songs
For I know depression can be
miles long
Show me the enemy you've
fought for too long
depression
I know is strong
Show me what I can
do just to keep you
Show me the empty shell
you have stuffed yourself
into
For I promise I can mend you
Show me the animal chained
inside of you
Because I have one too
Show me the late night screams
For I can see your sadness ripping
at happiness' seams
Don't be afraid to show
me all of you
Let me help you build upon
this sadness that has consumed
all intentions of something
new
Together who knows what we could
do?
CBW: A crack in the ceiling, exposing a light?
A call from the heavens to let me know it's alright?
This twang on my heartstring,
Resonates deep inside,
Yet, why does the strummer think her good side should hide?
Her music consumed
what once writhed in the shade,
The musical beauty was who my demons obeyed,
Yet my demons are different from the ones some portrayed,
But you can easily soothe them, if only you played.
Although the music is for me, it's played for another,
You're stuck in a sort of limbo for a lover,
And it's hard to hear from rock bottom, to the top of your tower,
The music is faint unless you give it more power.
I'll be here, filling this rut with my tears, wishing that your music could reach my ears.
DDF: I watch you struggle
trying, trying
to pull yourself from the
bottom
I look down in despair
for I know this in itself
is not fair
A god I would never bring myself
to bow to
whispers of redemption in single-
minded tongue
catching my attention
My mouth opens without a warning
spewing out prayers from night until
morning
This is not music, my dear
these are my words laced with
your fear
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC