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.

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.

Denomic Intrusion

Please don’t be scared my darling because no one can be more scared than i am by my own thoughts

Please stay my baby, the worst is in my head and not my hands around you

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

Social Anxiety.

When I’m speaking my opinion with a friend.

Me: Sorry
Them: Why are you sorry?

When I’m barely talking in a group.

Them: Why aren’t you talking?
Me: Sorry. Everytime I speak up, I’m either being ignored or I cause an awkward silence.

When I’m at a restaurant with a friend and have a plate of food in front of me barely eaten.

Them: Why aren’t you eating? Makes me feel awkward for being the only one eating.
Me: Sorry. I get anxiety sometimes when I eat in public.

I apologize a lot because growing up, I felt invisible and I got ignored a lot up until highschool. I was afraid to eat in public, let alone even talk in a group of friends.

People tell me I apologize too much and that I shouldn’t. I apologize because I picture myself to be the teacher in charlie brown you mumbled in the background and felt like people thiught of me that way. That’s mainly why I don’t socialize often with my friends in person.

So when people tell me to ” get off the internet ” and to ” make ‘ real ‘ friends “, it’s not that easy for me. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t. My friends online are very much real to me and a lot of them know more about me and have stuck by me more than most people in my outside of the internet life.