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Talk to me about depression And what it feels like to be lost and hopeless Where loneliness exceeds all expectations Where darkness is smelled and tasted and felt Around you like a very wet heavy blanket
are you high?
I remember crying myself to sleep, seeing no hope for the future. If only Mom, Dad, Sister, Brother could see the damage they inflict on me.
Would I still stand up? Even if all are against me? Would I still help out? Even if my pockets are empty? Would I stand my ground? Even if the foundation is weak? Would I be willing to lose it all? Even if I'm at my peak?
Pain doesn't have to be the universal crash-course workshop for art, but poetry is a thing like no other. It flows from fingertips and mouth, easy like Monday morning. Teeth grit to hold tongue and thought and sentiment.
I’ve heard of guys like you my entire life The type to dumpster dive Instead of revive There were times I wished I’d died If I died, you would’ve taken everything Including my voice
I know truth to be little else than a blade which use changes with the wielder. Molded to a scalpel, it is made as a doctor bringing relief from tender, hidden pain. Truth can be a saw, gnawing through
You walk into that new shop on the corner. You've never seen it before. It's inviting store windows and beautiful exterior pull you inside. What are they selling? words.
Why do i complain? What can i solve? Just a girl standing at five one, I couldn't stand tall if my God had blessed me so. A loser from a small town, in one small school in one small district
I was depressed at a young age, Becoming a new person every day, Never crying, emotions looking for a way out. It came to me three quarters into sixth grade. I paused from running away to stare at a golden page.
Fly on the Wall by Christian Betancourt The fly on the wall Sits silently in the room And says nothing at all
Fighting for what's right,
Empty streets in my mind I walk through them all the time the silents breaks under my feet and I remember when we truely meet when I was sleeping and you were there and all you did was stare
If I were to harm myself can you tell me how you'd feel? Would you feel ashamed of it, of how you made me kneel?
At the age of 18, most kids got their first tattoo. I went to my first open mic. And I was so scared to push my tongue and go, I didn't want to know I still wrote with training wheels.