Sometimes, she is my mistress
Sneaking in through my window and seducing me out of sleep
She keeps me up past sunrise, whispering sweet promises in my ear
Silencing me with her smoldering passion, stripping me until inspiration strikes
She makes me sing, until the sheets are slathered in a thick skin of poetry
Sending shivers up my spine and igniting my senses with her ghostly fingers
She is a lover and a shadow, nowhere to be seen when I wake
Sometimes, she is my psychosis
Suffocating and strong, I can do nothing but submit to her grasp
She seethes, like a snake constricting around me until my sight blurs to smoke
Slowly, she consum
Stop asking me what's wrong
Because I'm never going to answer.
Stop telling me it gets better
Because I've accepted that it'll never change.
Stop begging me to let you in
Because even then, I'm just going to fake a smile.
“You’re just sad.”
“Suck it up.”
And the worst?
“Get over it.”
I’m not just sad. I suffer from depression
Waiting for happiness’s resurrection.
I can’t just forget it, it’s in me for good
I can’t do the things that I know I should.
I’m not just sad. I’m broken. I’m lost.
I’ve tried everything to fix it, no matter the cost.
I’ve carried a blade just to hold to my wrist.
I’ve carried a dream inside of my fist.
I’ve talked about it, like they say I should do
But all my efforts are stopped by ignorant people like you.
“You&rs
Therapists, I don't like their taste. by DearPoetry, literature
Literature
Therapists, I don't like their taste.
i.
in 7th grade
i didn’t know depression
until she told me her name,
carving forever scratches
along my limbs like
little love notes on the bark
of a tree.
she stole my rings
and left me hollow.
ii.
i had only ever met anxiety
in passing, until one day
he handed me power and told me
to hurt someone else with it.
iii.
inexperienced,
with an uncontrollable
quivering in my fingers,
he whispered, “ to survive,
you must learn quickly.”
as i shoved the bevel of a needle
into a strangers arm.
iv.
so, if a therapist
could talk away my scars
like iodine disinfects,
guide the ships
through
Do you understand?
The blade against your wrist
Doesn't just slice your skin.
It cuts through others
Hearts
Souls
And sanity.
Do you understand?
You don't just kill yourself.
You kill everyone.
Everyone dies
Everyone cries
Everyone suffers
From YOUR goodbyes.
Do you understand?
You don't just die.
You take everyone down
With you.
The Incarnation Of Hate by Hate-Incarnate, literature
Literature
The Incarnation Of Hate
Hate didn't mean to hurt the girl.
Of course she didn't.
She wanted to help.
Hate knew pain when she saw it. This girl was in pain.
The girl looked so sad, her face was leaking...
She looked lost, Hate knew what that felt like.
Hate was lost too.
She had wandered from her home without meaning to.
She had passed through the gates of hell and just kept walking,
and soon she had no idea where she was.
The air was clean out here, she was used to fire and the smell of burning flesh of the damned.
Out here everything was brightly coloured, light, and smelled fresh. Hate was confused by it all.
When she first arrived she was scared.
Dragons fly through poison skies, their whispers in the wind
Ladybugs in black sandcastles, scratches on your skin
Hopscotch over quicksand, and a castle made of dirt
Shining silver crowns and dancing 'round in spinning skirts
Bloody, ruined princesses locked up in towers tall
Watching as the prince quickly begins to fall
Slowly, as the innocence does take her darling life
Please do watch now, as the magic wand becomes a knife...
I'm standing in the middle of nowhere
Such a scary place to be
Standing in the middle of nowhere
And there's really nothing here to see
Everything inside is screaming
Go and set your mama free
But I'm young and not strong so all that's left to do
Is scream...
Mama I'm coming home
And I'm gonna try my best
Never to let you go
To the deep, long rest
And sorry if I let go
On accident
But I won't be alone
'cause if you go
I'll put myself to rest.
Sitting by your bed for hours
I'm too scared to walk away
Sitting by your bed fro hours
Maybe that'll turn to days
And mama, I don't really care it
Goodbye, is all you say
'cause at least it's your voi