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.

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Cauterized Freedom

Slipping and
wondering where this
all went wrong
but not caring enough 
to cauterize it

Falling and
worried I’m heavier
And all I need  
is a little farther

Strong like the ocean, moldable like the sand.

The ocean thinks that I’m weak because I collapse as easily as sand sculptures do when it waves over them.

Little does it know, that I’m more like moldable clay because I can be pulled, but I also can stand still.

– One day, I’m falling over, the next I’m standing upright. // B.L.

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.

Falling Salt

Split my bones with your breath and hold me close as I’m slowly breaking apart

Melt my skin by the touch of your salt tainted hands as my world enfolds

Tear into me where it hurts the most with your every word as I sit still and fall

Work through to the core of my soul as my tears leak unto your very presence

– Show me that there’s more than what’s behind your curtains. // B.L.

Satan’s Scalp

One minute, soaring so high
So high even the sky was jealous

Two minutes, saying things on the top of my scalp
Not bad, but annoying

Times have changed, zones
Prone to become something I can only tolerate intoxicated and under the knife

And all I had wanted minutes prior, were my wings to be clipped and my feathers to drop
A shell if you will, to leave behind

And all I felt was the loudness of my bludgeoned body parts, lightened inside the drowned space

Confided, but not claustrophobic
Tense, but not shaken

Demons calm, so intensely, immensely calm

Cement Toil

This feeling, literally gut wrenching
Curdling, sitting and benching
People by the ears

Fizzy cauldron thoughts, boiling
Toiling with my thoughts
Quickly inhaling the droughts
Brought upon by the horrendous thunder storm
Exhaling shrapnel, cement falling bricks behind my eyes like a window to the soul, standing broken and all
A part

Physically ill, mentally off the pill
Taking away the thrill
Of bring criminally insane
Washing my life, drain
Straining my back from pulling on your heart strings

I mean well, things I say
They may sting
A bit, tearing through you, bring
Me your greatest pleasures
And make me your best treasure