Sadness Warriors

Words written in haste

Messages left between lines

Hoping to be discovered

Cries for help hidden between okay and fine.

The secret battle cry of the sad

Of the sadness warriors

Hiding behind fake smiles and it’ll get better soon.

No I’m fine.

Just a little down in the dumps

Just a little suicidal

Nothing major

Over dramatizations terrify

Must be calm

Calm in the face of a giant internal storm

Without hope and without promises of a future

Too terrifying to imagine

 

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Words Without a Voice

Words written and words said

More valuable are words without a voice

Whether happy or sad

Words without a voice will always pack more than a punch

Wasted words

Thrown away to steering wheels and bathroom mirrors

Never reach faces of faceless memories

No chances given to words left unwritten.

Numb

Writing poems through hazy clouds

No more tears fall so no more words

I have nothing to fling onto these pages

I am out of words

I traded too much for numbness

I trade tired of forgetting what sleep felt like

To rested with no rest from the numbness that has filled my head

Drowning out voices of self destruction but also self expression.

I wonder if I am just empty

Spent like a dollar bill traded for something else

What am I becoming

What can I create

Am I what I should be

Can I create what I should create

I am out of ideas

I am numb where before i was pained

Is it improvement?

Not for my poem’s sake.

Okay is Enough

Poem prompts pretending to sound deep

People writing pretending to be okay

I am not okay

Although today it feels like I am.

Only when I feel okay, I realize that okay is a lie.

Because this is the first day in weeks where I haven’t seriously considered dying instead of facing the sunset.

I am not okay

And it is only when I’m okay that I can see it

That’s the problem

When things aren’t okay

I convince myself they are for fear of what will happen if I tell the truth

The truth is scary

The truth is not meant for polite conversation

When they ask how you are they don’t want to hear barely hanging on

To a rope, I tied around my neck and I need help.

Illness comes in many forms

This illness is difficult to see

There is no Band-Aid

No wounds except for self-inflicted ones, which don’t seem to count for much

Except crazy.

I guess I’m going crazy but I wish crazy had sticker

That would let people know

Because it’s hard to keep it together when you’re going crazy

Trying to convince others I’m not crazy only as diagnosis come

What is crazy?

If its sleepless nights

And energy filled rants during the day

And if its won’t stop shaking because I just need to move

And won’t get out of bed because the world is too big today

Can’t be bothered to make a meal because maybe it will be my last and that’s too much pressure for a meal

I guess I’m crazy

But they have some cool drugs now

And I’m finally able to sleep

And I’ve slowed down the ranting

And I’m getting out of bed most days.

I am getting saner.

But it is still hard.

I will take today as a victory because I think I’m okay.

And okay is enough for today.

Coffee Shop Thoughts

Coffee shop visits

Fraud that I am only here for wifi and people watching.

Coffee’s only good if the milk and sugar mask the bitterness

I am bitter about the bitterness that seems to have built up inside me

This spills over into my people watching

My people interacting

Trying to sweeten myself only seems to make myself sick

Maybe it’s not bitterness exactly rather frustration

I am frustrated with myself

I am some how never enough and always too much for my mind to handle.

So when I look at people walking down pavements going on with their lives

I wonder if as they wander they think like me.

 

Breakdowns in the Forest

Mental breakdowns in the forest

Where the rain falling from my eyes are hidden by the tears falling from the sky

The rushing traffic drowned out by whispering trees

Forests were made for breakdowns

For shaking bodies and hands that are hidden my the windblown leaves

The trees act as your shield as you lose whatever self control you had left and you lose it

Trees know about loss so they help to make you invisible from those around

To give you time to grieve just like the clouds to

And organic mental breakdown

Away from traffic you keep telling yourself to run into

Fetal position assumed just like the creatures of the forest

Mental breakdowns were made for forest covers

Where cries are masked by whispering trees and howls of wind

Where crying eyes make you queen of the forest, for providing rain

For providing life.

 

Pasted Smiles

Tears fall as

Thoughts bombard my head with messages it never asked to be sent

Perfectly happy moments destroyed by terrorists disguised as thoughts

Thoughts pleading with me to please the world by leaving it

Thoughts begging for humanity’s salvation, through accepting my own damnation

I dont know how to stop these thoughts

Though if I think about it

It doesn’t really help just gives a doorway

So I color instead and then the thoughts seem more true

When they tell me how little I bring to the table that is life

And I dont know how to make them stop

And i wish

I wish they would stop

There are bombs going off in my head

And all they can say is smile

Fake it til you make it

Well I’ve made it, made it to bombs blazing

Smiles fading.

It’s only the smile fading they seem to have a problem with

The only thing they want a solution for

I want a solution but unfortunately Im not a math equation

2+2 doesn’t equal me

So I have to keep coloring and try and quiet crying

And paste a smile on my face

So I can avoid questions about bombings and bruises

And how I’m really doing.