Tag Archives: Depression

DEAR FRIEND

The pain in my heart
is not for that
who has passed,
dear friend.

The pain in my heart
is having to watch
you fall apart,
again and again.

Knowing,
as I stand idle by,
there is nothing I can do
to make you understand.

Grief is a hard thing,
a battle of the inside.
But its necessary
and unfortunately out of command.

Dear friend,
Time is a current
that flows with no restriction
and with it,
I am certain,
you will come back to me
feeling life more
than when you began.

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TOXIC

My heart beats loud
in my chest
as the nerves
give way to unrest.

A toxic potion
of anxiety and depression.
I swallowed it whole
and can feel the pressure.

With my mind
I tried to push the weight
but after hours,
I was still in the same place.

Trapped
by my own emotion.
Frantically
grappling with thought erosion.

I’ve sent out the flare
and am waiting on the answer.
Will time bring someone
to be my savior?

CARRY ME

Can you carry me?
Because I can’t.
I’ve carried so many so far.
I’ve been used, borrowed, begged and forced.
I can no longer take this course.

Can I ask you how it became this way?
What has changed you to the person so?
I don’t think you know.
Nobody does.

I am sick of this.
I am tired and low.
Can I rely on someone else for once?
Once?
Once!

For me,
not their image of me.
Their projection of me.
The actual me.

I was told that ignorance is bliss.
The older I get,
The more truth I see to it.
For what the ignorant don’t carry, I must.
And it is a long, weary road.
Can you carry me?

FINE

The memories are heavy in here.

I laid my head on the carpet. Body sprawled out, taking up all the space I could. The heat was heavy, too. Invading the air, it pressed its weight against my skin. The mugginess soaking me in afternoon spoil.

I breathed in deep, drenching my lungs. It was never enough, I thought. I could never do enough.

Images played through my mind. Nights spent staring out the window to the stars, her arms reaching around to point out the constellations that surrounded us. Days with paper and markers spread all over the floor, careless even to worry about the dark purple and blue that had begun to coat the carpet. Morning sleeping warm in the plush bed, comfort surrounding me. Her golden eyes the first thing I would wake to. Good morning.

I sat up, my spine curved into the posture as I kept my head low. Sweat rinsed my skin, keeping my clothing taut. I had ran hard that morning, running from some invisible force. I felt that if it I slowed for too long it would catch me. Nipping at my heels I could feel it start to envelop me, tightening my chest. Squeezing out breaths I kept moving – even when the tears finally did start running down my face.

A soft knock at the door, “Karen? Are you all right in there?”

I exhaled and deflated onto my folded my knees. “Fine, dad. Really. I’m just stretching.”

Ok, then. Just wanted to make sure.” I hear him shuffle on the stiff carpet, pausing for a second. After a moment’s contemplation, likely him listening through the wooden hollow core door, he moved on down the hall.

Fine, that’s what I keep telling myself. Yes, it’s been hard but I’m fine….We knew it was coming, said our goodbyes…there were some dark days there, but I’m fine now. Fine. Such a frigid word. One syllable, neat and clear. End of conversation. I’m fine.

She had been diagnosed last year with stage three breast cancer. It came as a shock but when you have the kind of parents that avoid the sterile halls of doctor’s office at every opportunity, it couldn’t be a surprise. Stage three is tough, with the cancer growing beyond it’s beginning bounds and the start of lymph nodes being overtaken. But it’s still beatable.

First came the mastectomy. She had been so nervous, removing a part of her body that was private and yet some factor of being a woman. Why, I’ll look like a boy! she said to me out of the blue one day. I just smiled and told her she was mistaken. She didn’t need breasts to be beautiful.

Then came the radiation therapy. That’s always been a funny thing to me – radiation. We try so hard to avoid the toxic in our lives yet there we were, shining it right on her. It helps, the white coats assured me. It helps, I told her while she was throwing up after the first time. It helps, I told her when we had to use a wheelchair just to get back to the car.

And through the whole time there was chemo. Injecting drugs straight at the source to get rid of it all. With it went her fine blonde hair and her appetite.

None of it worked. Metastatic – that’s what the white coats called it. It went beyond the lymph nodes and dug deep into her bones and organs. The cancer was taking over and it was leaving us with a woman I hardly knew.

Months passed and we kept on fighting for that small chance. But in the last month, she’d had enough. She so badly wanted to have the strength to bake a meal for my father. Or even just to put on her nice clothes and go out. But no matter how hard she tried, they always ended up sitting tight on the couch, her falling asleep on his shoulder with a microwaved dinner cooling at her knees.

I didn’t want those to be the last images of my mother. I tried so many times to trade my reality for nostalgic dreams. Failure was met with each childish attempt. Depression loomed at my edges until it finally wrapped around me like an indisposed blanket. Even in her weakest hours, she asked about me. I worry about you. Where is that beautiful smile that I love so much? At least I could give her that.

Then she was gone.

The golden light that lit up her eyes faded and her breathe silenced. No longer a person. A body to be buried. Dust.

I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.

UNCLEAN

There is a fire inside,

burning still.

Dark is the ash

and red is the flame

that delivers me ill.

 

So quiet I’ve been keen keeping,

like a prey for its kill.

But now I’m engulfed

and my blackened sin has over-spilled.

 

I am so tired,

so worn thin,

that I keep collapsing

and falling,

again and again.

 

The things I carry

have become too heavy.

They have pulled me apart,

rupturing the seams.

 

I can hold them inside

no longer.

Like jagged knives,

they split me open

and expose me to the world

unclean.

 

A high price I pay

for hiding those lies.

Crafted  in delusion and

false sympathy.

They took me over

and stole everything,

presenting me empty

to a hungry crowd of apathy.

FORGOTTEN

What does it matter?

The people passed by.

Flashes of color,

grey and blue,

a compliment to the sky.

 

Her hands are placed stiffly

on her knees.

Her back slightly arched

and face down.

On a bench she sat

of black iron.

Its curves

to her meshed.

 

What does it matter?

She asks again.

The voice is feint.

Small.

She is so fragile,

no longer standing tall.

 

The bench cannot shudder,

It’s the only thing

holding her now.

Puddles well below her,

salty tears pour out.

 

The people pass by.

No one sees her.

No one cares to try.

She is just another person

claimed by an emptiness

filling the insides.

 

She has lost all her color.

There is not much more

within you could find.

Pride shuns her

and association is denied.

Laughter is too hollow

and the smiles are uncourageous lies.

 

She is

forgotten

Because you choose

to be blind.

THOUGHTS

It bubbles up inside,

coiled around my heart.

 

It’s a knotted tension,

pulled tight in my mind.

I can’t release it.

I am confined.

 

Thoughts that don’t matter.

Thoughts that crush.

Thoughts that linger.

Thoughts that I can’t touch.

 

When I cover myself in them,

it only makes it worse.

The pain grows in my head,

as if I were cursed.

 

I am trying so hard to break through.

But they keep dragging me under,

pulling me beneath,

leaving scars that run deep.

 

Thoughts that are too heavy.

Thoughts that leave me empty.

Thoughts that noose my soul.

Thoughts that I can’t control.

 

I can scream it out.

Cry aloud.

Force it down,

and kick and pound.

 

But they’re still there,

even though they’re not allowed.

 

I have pleaded with them,

to leave me be.

But the talons only grip harder,

forcing me to bleed.

 

Thoughts that keep me restless.

Thoughts with no end.

Thoughts that go in circles.

Thoughts to which I will never win.