You are so much more

didn’t appreciate you as much as one might
And maybe you might want to blame me
And I hope you do because it is my fault

It is not your fault that you let me in and I couldn’t keep my door open enough to let your light in

It is not your fault that you felt so deeply for someone who makes webs out of people and fights to weave through it when the person packs up and flees

It is not your fault that you are choosing happiness over heart ache, if anything, isn’t that more rewarding than going to bed wondering whether someone is going to leave or not?

You are a strong light, not just a strong shoulder for those who can’t always feel.

You are not a sponge even if it seems like you just keep soaking and your heart keeps growing

You are not the broken promises used to build you up and destroy you lower

You are not the pain you feel or the people who try to take your good things away

You are you, you are yourself, you are a good person

You are doing what’s best for you and you will get through

To you, CinFox.

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Graved Truths

I’d be lying
If I didn’t try
To tell you the truth
About wanting to lay down
Inside and stew
In my own grave

I’d be lying
If I spilt but didn’t cry
Whenever I needed to escape
This headspace cave
Built from nothing

Hospital Corners

Like a hotel, our bodies are being rented out                                                   temporarily I squander around                                                                                       for rooms that aren’t occupied                                                                                       but every spot is no longer vacant.

As I round the corners, slightly folded                                                                   into eachother like a hospital bedsheet                                                                       I realize that I don’t have Schitzophrenia                                                                 but I have conversations with people who aren’t there

Are they? Maybe they’re all the versions of myself talking to people they used to know.

Induced preventions

Ranting, screaming through my fingers but for some reason there is a block

Where, when why are there so many things stopping me, i’m allowing them to stop me, prevent me from simply waking up from my zombie-induced body bag

Simply trudging, walking, running through the subway tracks, hoping they’ll cave in and I’ll fall off the brink, edge shattered, sharp.

Just finding my way through the slow dancing legs the trees are waving to me, at me.

Sprouted Somethings

It seems the darkest lollies are dancing                                                                                                                                   squirming at the sheets you pulled over us that night                                                                                                                 and where were you when they stopped uprooting?

Sudden sprouts where your orphices had caved prior to the                                                                                                   accident your mindspace adapted as a freight change                                                                                                               jumped and called you home when you needed something

Your words stopped making sense when your demons scratched                                                                                                 at your back door screaming, waiting inside your vined beat

Settle Layers

Quietly, creeping it
comes unto my skin
and crawls deeply

Settling, it grabs a hold
of my eyes and chokes
them as they shed their layers

Quickly, overwhelming it
inhaled my very being
swallowing as it moves consuming

Overwhelming, hardly felt it
until suddenly the feeling
was then out of nowhere, felt

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.