Employed By Depression

I keep running away from almost every opportunity I get, especially with jobs.

But in reality, depression has become like a job to me over the past 10 or 11 years.

It’s consumed almost every ounce of me. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing or not doing, it doesn’t matter if I’m with people or alone.

Every other day if not everyday is a constant struggle with having too much sleep or not sleeping enough, eating or not eating at all, feeling alone yet needing to isolate myself so that I don’t annoy people.

People tell me to find a hobby, to get up and do something, but even when I find a hobby.. or do something I feel I’m decent at, I either lose interest by finding another interest or I get bored or give up because it’s too difficult.

What seems to be my rock bottom, usually doesn’t feel like it’s enough to help me soar to the surface.

Yet despite all of these things, I’m still fighting even when I’m on my last straw.

I’m still fighting even when I feel as though I’m at my lowest point.

Someone once told me that it’s sometimes harder to let go than it is to hold on.

That may not be true for some people, but I feel as though it’s true for me personally because no natter how much I want to give into letting my body give up, no natter how many times I run away and create a new identity, no matter how many times I try to give up, for some reason, I snap out of it. I find something that motivates me without even searching for it and it’s enough until it isn’t enough again.

Sleeping Differences

Remember when we would lose so much sleep over talking witheachother that our time difference didn’t seem to make any difference at all?

Remember how we’d go to sleep saying good night baby and wake up asking how achieve had slept?

Remember how we had our special or names for each other and we were so obvious in chat rooms?

Remember how every time someone flirted with one another, how jealous we’d get and then talk through every argument?

Oh how much sleep I lose now, but no longer because we talk to each other unto the wee hours of the night.

Oh how we spend our nights no longer saying goodnight and our mornings without a sweet greeting.

Oh how our pet names are now just eachother’s usernames or actual names.

Oh how we are no longer eachother’s baby, so getting jealous isn’t our right anymore.

Oh how the times have changed.

– We still talk, by it’s small conversation and nothing really said anymore. Distance no longer matters because we’ve already finished. But oh how I still think of you from time to time.

Body Ghost

I know this area, sort of and something about it, everything reminds me of those I’ve never foot step here with before

It’s as though they’re haunting me like a spirit with unfinished business, only these are still alive as far as I’m aware

Taunted by the very taunt itself of memories I’ve never shared with certain ghosts of my past inwhich I created myself

Version of my past self live here, born here to someone as a stranger to myself and yet my heart feels something dark sitting in the seat of my legs

Clocks Ahead.

We were three hours apart, or well we still are. But now it feels like four.

You once told me that I was from the future because of the time.

Now with just a slight change, it feels as though you’re further away than you were last night.

Our distance isn’t just measured on miles anymore, but the seconds between us.

– we changed the clocks last night and losing an hour of sleep makes me feel like you’ve fallen more behind and that makes me sad. // Lukas Owen.

Lost in your own galaxies.

You’re lost in the sheets of your own mind and I wish they were the ones on my bed

You’re so slowly disappearing among the galaxies in your body and I wish they were entangled with mine

You’re no where to be found, out of  physical eyes sight and I wish you’d allow yourself to get lost in my words

You’re so lovely and you have no idea how much I care about you and I wish that you could read this and come back

– I wrote this for you even though you wanted space and I know that we’re just friends, but even as a friend I feel like you’re not yourself anymore and it makes me miss you so much more.

Ground Loins

Hear, the pitter patter of the river’s heart beat
Passerby throwing bones like sticks

Speak, the truth of the tongue being rolled off of the back of the nearest barking spine

Eat, the insides underlining the flesh of the person you used to be rotting beneath who you are now

Spew, the broken future’s carcass with shattered hopes and flowing spaces

Remember, the loopholes that you’ve been trying to jump through with nothing but nature’s eyes following you

Forget, the things that make you feel as though the wasted lands are all you are, washed up and dried to the loins

Time, alone forever travelling backwards in my head as more places seem to be too far to reach other than those inside

Hope, tainted, kissed with the poison of everything you were told was wrong, death created and unrighteous

There’s confortability in every storm

As similar you are different                 even distant you are near                      you are the million, also one
Everything and nothing at all

With you, confortability is as evident as there are other kinds among us and with you, lies configurability and solidarity, plans to escape and find eachother

You say, tell me you don’t deserve please allow me, let me reserve              a place for you, myself inside your       mountainous framed heart, pour           unto me your burdens that trouble          all that you are, instead of double

As often as I tell you, I care
As the night falls, I grow tired                 of remembering that I let you go, retired before I even realized, knew, shots fired
but I still want to calm your storm

Vein Like Substances

Shot down underneath the robe
You were wearing the night you told
Me that rivers only flow when there’s a reason to breach through confidentiality
And I just stood there wondering what you meant by that and you were referring to the air circulating through my body
Running veins gathering nutrients from the heart I once had

You said I had a choice whether to remain cold or to warm up the soul someone needed when they were younger
Here I am I said, trying to travel towards you at such great vagility
My body just looming over
Bending into another shape you’ve never seen before
Here I am my darling

Tense Bewilderment

Growing up you told me to layer up
Little did I know that you meant more than just in accord of the weather

Boys were told that they were stronger
Girls were made out to be the weaker ones
Atleast when I was younger

There are seperately shot put balls for the girls and for the boys
One set for the weaker sex
One for the stronger
And as sexist as it was, I didn’t know any better

So I struck up my own confidence, ran out of site and picked up the heavier weight
Using most of my strength to hover it into the air, bam, it landed so hard and so fast
But my, did I feel good for doing what I wanted

Not fitting in, segregated
Was told that I couldn’t do the same work as everyone else
Humiliated when I needed reassurance and repetition

Are you a boy? They all chanted knowing who I identified as, it still hurt
It still does

Phototherapy

DSC00103

I’m still a beginner with taking pictures. I just bought a new camera a few weeks ago with the intent of taking pictures of anything and everything.

I find that inbetween Therapy sessions, photography helps bring my creative side out. There are only so many outlets that help me and the lense is one.

This picture could have been taken better, but it shows a place I grew up. Pictures tell a thousand words.