i have never been so beautiful
i have never been so
glorious and flowing and my sadness
has never created such
melodious words intertwined and
even as you break and fall apart you
find a way to create something so pretty and
i am nothing nothing compared to that and
i don't know if i will ever
be able to
accept myself and who i am and
embrace this and
these words are not enough,
the metaphor is not
beautiful and lovely and
i am angry at so many things
because i feel like i suffer the most
when my brain is calling out
that we can't leave the house
not now
not ever again
but it's not safe here,
or anywhere
that i am
and i have
school tomorrow.
i don't want to go but i will
fizzling popping bubbling
filled to the seams and bursting
stitches coming undone
with nervous energy and anxiety
and i want to peel my skin
right off
to let it
out.
there is no escape from yourself
and the soft gentle whispers
that you always use the same words
the ocean and not the shower
oh,
to feel another's
touch
to explore someone else's
mind.
when the depression takes over
my head hurts
as my mind floats
somewhere above my shoulders
off kilter
not right
something is wrong everything is wrong
it's off and i'm broken and i'm
suffering but
i'm not sad and i can't cry
there is nothing to cry about
nobody to cry for
but
myself
and i don't care that much
for
her.
when my depression takes over
i lay and
my eyes are open staring at nothing
glazed over looking at the
walls
black and white
no shades of grey
everything is pointless pointless
curved and smooth and
nothing to
hold onto.
piles of work to do to do
there is
a l w a y s
so much to do
i don't want to die i
wouldn't even if i
had the choice
the opportunity
but i don't know
why.
there is nothing to look
forward to but
there is plenty to worry about.
when my depression takes over
there is nothing of me left
and the anxiety crawls over
and under
my skin like spiders.
the day is too hot and
the sun is too bright and
existing is painful and
i am not comfortable here.
but she parades around with the
label of
depression and
anxiety because she
feels compelled to talk to people
and tell them of her problems
but has she ever
felt so confined by the four walls
of her house because it is
/safe/ here and you
want so desperately to leave and
to talk and to
explore and to
live and to
breathe in the fresh spring air but
you can't you can't you can't you can't
and
why am i the
only one only ever one
to be so restrained in this way?
how, after all of this
pain
can my heart keep beating?
i was inspired
and spilled my life out
onto a keyboard but
we will bring it
back to the start
it still isn't beautiful
it still isn't beautiful
