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he writes from
unhidden despair..
his words find
distress in some
those wishing
a caring shelter
or raining joy..
is it possible
standing his place
finding within the
evening each owns..
a garden there
dark earthy soil..
no other place
restores morning
rays..
Timothy's Gift...
for our HP friend...
I almost wrote you a love song once

but then I remembered how much I hate love songs

and I decided to just

write you this instead

see most people live life backwards

they’re dead before they find life

and it’s usually too late

and I was that person until I stumbled across you

I found my heartbeat in your spontaneity

and I found my smile in your lips

you touched me in places without

using your hands

and when I cry, you don’t silence me by telling me

"it’ll get better"

you don’t wipe away my tears

you let me cry

and that’s more than anyone has ever done for me

and when I want to thank you

I realize I don’t know how

but you tell me “you’re welcome"

in a million different ways

and I want to thank you for that too

but I don’t know how to do that either

that was when I almost wrote you a love song

but I stopped when I realized that I hated love songs

and I loved you

so I wrote you this instead
I am addicted to you
Every ounce of what I can find
In the depths of your soul
I hear you calling me
Keeping me up all hours of the night

The idea of being able to awake
With you by my side
Is enough to drive me mad
For hours, no, days on end

It’s a rare ten minutes
Where you don’t cross my mind
The sad part is
I can’t distance myself
From you

My subconscious
Is addicted as well
You have appeared
In countless dreams
The hero in my nightmares
I blink and see you

My body craves your heat
The curve of your spine
I long to memorize
Every outline
Of muscle and spot
Every blemish on your skin

If you dare ask
If I’m addicted to you
I will nod quietly
And beg you
Not to stage
An intervention
To be completely honest,
I am utterly terrified about the upcoming generation.
Scared that they will destroy this world even more.
No values.
No morals.
No respect.
I mean, look at the generation raising them;
aren't we bad enough?
But today,
I was shown a little glimmer of hope that maybe;
some of them won't be so bad.
Today I heard about what a good friend of mines little brother did, letting a man know he is thankful for him serving this country. I will admit, I don't know any adults that would do that, much less an eight year old. Like I said, maybe there is hope.
It's obvious
It's so desperate to be near you that it has literally become part of you
It has found a way to sneak through and melt into you
And I'm jealous
Because I'm desperate to be near you
I worship your skin as the salt does
Your hair as the sunlight does
Your eyes as the laughter does
But I fear you may notice if I endeavor to be with you in every sense of the word
So I will continue to brood
In partial silence
Forever envious of the salt and sunlight and laughter
Just depressed? Do you even know what depression feels like? Do you know what it's like to make a list of a thousand ways to die and thinking constantly of the day when you choose one? Do you know what it's like to be the happiest you've ever been one minute but find yourself crying yourself to sleep the next? what about not sleeping at all? Do you know what it's like to have to walk the school hallways like you're dragging weights from your ankles? Do you know how it feels to get worried looks from that one teacher who senses your sadness but won't take the step to reach out to you? God, I wish someone would. Do you know what it's like to be so sad you can't even cry and you just sit there like you're dead? For hours? For days? Longer? Do you know what it's like to not even know the reason why you're feeling like you do? Do you know what it's like to even not be able to change how you feel? Do you think it's easy to "just be happy"? Oh believe me I want to be. Do you know what it's like to be at mercy to a chemical imbalance? To rely on pills just to remain "normal"? Oh please, can I just know what it's like to be normal like everyone else? Do you know what it's like for your brain to be your own worst enemy? Do you know what it's like to pretend that you're ok while this is happening to you? While you're dying on the inside and wishing you could speed up the process? Oh and by the way, no one can even help you. No one can truly understand you, except for yourself. No one. Not even the people you swear you love most of all. You know what? Sometimes you don't even understand yourself. All you know is that any happiness is fleeting and surely will soon be gone. Never-- not in a day, month or year-- can you ever find permanent relief. You feel like there are two different people occupying your body. One loves life and laughs at jokes that aren't even funny and falls in love and reads books and listens to good music and loves the sunshine. The other is a miserable and deeply self loathing being that wants to drown in darkness and spreads like a black sickness through your body wishing to take over it. The other is depression. Sadly, the other too often succeeds in taking over. You are no longer the person that loves life and laughs at jokes that aren't even funny and falls in love and reads books and loves the sunshine.  Jokes don't make you laugh anymore. Books are only a collection of meaningless words. Music is only thin repetitive sound. When the sun is out, you'd prefer to stay inside with the curtains drawn shut. As for loving life, you're not even sure you want to live anymore. You become depression; Depression becomes you. Sometimes you still like to pretend to be that happy person, but that person is barely alive anymore. You still pretend because pretending may just be the only thing keeping you sane. Other times you feel like neither the happy person nor the other are present in you. You're simply empty. You're breathing and you feel a pulse at your wrist, but inside you are nothingness. You are merely half-existing. Sometimes the emptiness hurts more than being completely consumed by the other. It hurts. It's painful. More so than any blade one can take to their own skin. I would give anything just to be able to be happy, to NOT have depression anymore, but I can't. I can't and its not fair. I've come to learn that life isn't fair, but why does this have to be my life? Did some awful omnificent being choose to make me like this? If you aren't depressed, you're **** lucky. Why is it becoming just another trend? Why on earth would you pretend to have such a horrible disorder? Why would you glamorize it with pictures of beautiful, delicate girls with pretty curls in little floral dresses dancing through a field with tears in their eyes with movie quote captions in cursive? Its not pretty. Its ugly; its sad. But, hey, you know exactly what depression is like, don't you?
i love you so much          
i know that  
if anything happened              
if you told me, you no longer loved me
or you couldnt be with me                              
it would **** me                                    
i know that is pathetic
and now that i know        
if you hurt me, it'll **** me                    
and i think you know that too

is this just a                
elongated form
of suicide?            
is it enevitable that you'll fall out of love    
and **** me?
yet i don't want to do anything
about it                      
i know you could            
**** me        

but you haven't yet      
you're my suicide
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