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.

Advertisements

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.

Galaxy Ridden

Walking along the throws of the universe
Speckled, necklaces strung together made of the stars that are shining
Forming your name, screaming your
Existence, and for an instance
Maybe you and I can believe in something
And not think we’re nothing

Take me to the hurricanes, show me their outcomes
Watch me squirm as the tornados shed their arms upon my head
Tread, me softly
Read me hard

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

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

Therapy Subway

Therapy rides, is what I’m going to refer to them from now on
Those subway journeys to and from the rap sessions
Although sitting is already helping
New environment, different people
Exciting surroundings
Mental illness can sometimes feel like a chore you’ve been burdened with
Crying because you lost a piece of paper with an important date on it but you don’t want to call the dentist office and have them know you’re disorganized
Panicking because you rubbed a piece of constructive criticism a harsh way
But these rides, they keep the good feelings at bay and relax the frustration

Bone chilling waves

I was scared, but you dulled my fears
By instilling heartfelt warmth
To my bones that were once radiating chills
And now I’m not sure whether the the dark is jealous that I’ve had some light in me, or if the sun is worried that I’ll sink back down
The seas shake whenever I step foot and flood them with my own waves
Drowning things as I press my head against the sanded footprints
I’m still here even if my soul becomes hard as stone and your heart can sense the density of what was
So tell me, what is it that you see in me?
Is it the way I attempted to pull you from the storm that cascades your every thought, or the way that my heart fills your ears?