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

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Caving Ends

I’ve killed off parts of myself to keep others from caving in, ending themselves 
Now I fill those dead ends with their’s to open back up
I walked to the bottom and risen higher than I needed to, fell back and flipped it all over and watched myself sprout 

Exhalation Masses

Stinging from the slowly growing masses, he decided to keep trudging, thorough and deep strides

Knowingly stomping through the grounds of massacreic meanderings, he didn’t care that his hopes were becoming his own version of hell, created and formed, designed for the soul purpose of getting used to a taste of a place he would soon know

Desire for the rupture, storming approached lessons, he ran through every detail that troubled his empty sockets, charging as he plugged in the waves

Walking, realizing that everything he breathed in were just remnants of everyone else’s exhalations, carrying their burdens and making them his own so that his appeared disadvantaged

He wanted to be invisible only because that’s what he was used to, so he trudged into the place he knew well, the corners of every crevice of every memory and sliced them in pieces, threw them into his veins and slowly drowned them as he was drowning with the loudness of all his thoughts

Venomous Pollination

You looked and I sat here, swallowing the bitter orchids
They were just swaying in the pollinatious sea of venomous weeds

I wanted to drown, oh so beautifully amongst the glowing creatures
But you were flying too high where even the clouds couldn’t see

You said to me, the words your voice had told you, wisdom is not always born with you unless you are wisdom itself
And I dove so far into the wild forestry

I poked my head above the current, flowing so fast, you laughed as you saw panic strucken smacked across my face
And off I went, blowing into the tundras

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.

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