Growth Of The Bitter

This rage of my screaming pain

I writhe in my own agony of the stains

The stains it has caused in my mind and oh so many fabrics

The blood stains of bitterly depression


I get yelled at and told I have an obsession with hate

But they raised me and it’s not too late

It will never be too late for me to change my own fate

I know that I am capable

Yet I hate that everything about me is so reprimandable


It’s a constant battle in my head

I can barely find the motivation to go or get out of bed

But fuck me for feeling this way right?

It’s not like its a chemical imbalance in my head that's locked airtight


I wish I could book a flight so I could escape

I know that there are many that can relate

And yet none of us understand our own mental states

We’re told to smoke weed or take antidepressants

We’re told to cover up and do our best to ignore our mental infectants


Even when we leave we still get used

Even when we fix our lives they just magically forget how they abused

How they abused, how they acted upon abusive tendencies many times

They pretended that they never caused anything in our heads

They “forget” what they did to cause the tear stains in our beds

They say they’re proud when really

All they care about now is that they don’t have to care about us with “sincerity”

The only thing that matters to them is that they can ignore us even more


But never will they forget me when I break my demons and leave them behind with pouring rain


And never will I forget the stains left by my past

For they are what made me strong enough to prove that ones like me can last

This poem is about: 
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741