I was going through my school stuff from last year and found some old poems dumped in that were written in the height of it.
my mind is racing,
thoughts are chasing,
my heart is fearing,
friendships tearing,
my being’s burning,
insides churning,
words are stinging,
pain they’re bringing,
forever binging,
always cringing,
then I’m purging,
shortly after splurging,
school’s compelling,
brokenhearted yelling,
lonely and trying,
for comfort I’m crying,
confidence shrinking,
to the depths I’m sinking,
for care I’m yearning,
no one does I’m learning.
Depression:
Depression’s like a sword,
plunged deep, deep down,
into the depths of your soul,
and no way of survival but death.
Depression’s like being stranded on an island,
abandoned and alone,
with no way of survival but drowning.
depression’s like wearing clothing with pins,
pricking you in ever direction,
torturous pain,
with no way out but to let them in.
depression’s like being trapped in a fire,
a blazing, raging fire,
that burns, scorches and blisters,
with no way out but to burn alive.
depression’s like being in a room full fo partying,
sitting in the midst unnoticed,
not a kind soul in sight,
and there’s no way out but to melt.
depression’s like being struck with cancer,
destroying you against your will,
with therapy like chemo, causing more pain,
and there’s no way out but to succumb to its vengeance.
depression’s like being attacked by an animal,
a vicious, wild creature,
eating you part by part,
with no way out but to surrender.
depression’s like being on the train tracks,
with trains racing by and crushing you,
you’re crumbling with every strike,
and there’s no way out but death.
Suicide:
suicide’s like being swallowed whole,
in the mouth of a shark,
being bitten and chewed,
until you’re DEAD.
suicide’s like being in the sea,
the deepest depths of the ocean,
with an iron rod weighing you down,
unable to breath, choking up water,
until you DROWN.
suicide’s like being strapped to a table,
surrounded by terrorists,
eager to slaughter and chop you up,
until you are in PIECES.
suicide’s like being stuck under books,
a gigantic pile of heavy books,
just growing heavier and bigger,
being thrown at you in every direction,
until you’re CRUSHED.
The world has turned against me,
misery encircles me,
suicide overtakes me,
all the people crush me.
the firs burns me,
the rope entangles me,
the glass shatters me,
falling beaks me.
water drowns me,
knives stab me,
doors trap me,
disease fails me.
silence robs me,
being snobbed ruins me,
excluded destroys me,
everyone kills me.
I have some more I’ll do soon