My chest is burning on fire,
The aching in my chest, stabbing dire.
I want to claw out my heart,
To stop the feelings, to stop the pain, to stop from breaking apart.
I lie awake every night, tossing and turning, restless;
All the voices, the memories, tormenting me into darkness.
I want to scream at the top of my lungs,
To let out all the pain, and to stop using these drugs.
My head is full, darkness overwhelming,
My mind is like a deadly disease, consuming.
The questions flowing, who is in control?
I can't take it, the voices won't leave me alone. No more.
Pressing the barrel against my head,
Pulling the trigger is so easy, yet I'm not dead.
I hold the pills gently in my palm, are you tempting it?
I go down into the cold blood of nature,
The water consuming the air inside my lungs, patient.
The lasso of truth tight, choking me like a puppet,
Dangling feet like children playing on the deck, not troubled.
My mind will be fuzzy after this sharp injection,
Maybe I should chase the dragon, conception.
Or maybe I should do it in other ways?
Guns, drugs, pills, hanging, drowning? What more?
Looking down at the busy road below,
Will it hurt? Will it be quick? Slow?
This sharp cut, down or across? Both?
But in the end, I can't break my oath.
All I can do is keep the aching burn in my heart
Nothing to do to stop from breaking apart.
YOU ARE READING
The recovery
PoetryThis is a collection of my poetry that I am writing during my depression, some are very dark and some are happy memories. I am going to try to publish every day
