Tag: depression

how

how is one meant to cry
if the tears refuse to fall?

how is one meant to smile
if the pain is too much?

how is one meant to push
if the burden is too heavy?

how is one meant to shine
if the rain doesn’t stop?

how is one meant to grow
if the room is too small?

how is one meant to love
if the heart is cracked?

how is one meant to speak
if the words remain silent?

how is one meant to wait
if the train is moving?

how is one meant to heal
if the wound is too deep?

how is one meant to continue
if the desire is gone?

it will repeat.

i stare at it,
ringing as if i am still asleep,
desperately trying to wake me
for another day.

i scan my badge,
wearing a mask
riddled with cracks
as the clock ticks slowly.

i drive home,
music blasting
but my thoughts sit in silence,
endlessly replaying in their yard.

i get inside,
my mind static
as i wait for my body to collapse,
accepting sleep like it’s the only ending
i will receive.

all to repeat it over again,
the same cycle as
yesterday,
today,
and tomorrow.

🎆

another cycle complete,
highs that made me feel invincible,
lows that almost swallowed me whole.
chaos in between,
like the world had no idea what its plan was.

loved deeply,
cried harder than i thought possible,
smiled until it hurt,
laughed so much that i went silent.

screamed at the universe,
and then sat in its peace,
finding stillness in the spaces between the noise.

stood at that cliff and took in life,
every memory began to flood
as i closed my eyes and took a leap-
landed on my feet.

through it all,
still standing, still breathing,
and somehow,
i’m so damn happy.

this year was mine.
all the mess, all the beauty,
i made it through,
and i wouldn’t have it any other way.

🔌

hollowed out and quiet,
the days are just rooms
i walk through
because the doors happen to be open.

there is no gold at the end of the hall,
no sudden light,
just the steady hum of the furnace
and the shadows stretching
at four in the afternoon.

i am a vessel with the plug pulled,
light as a dried leaf,
floating not because i have a destination,
but because the air is moving
and i am still here to be moved.

no mountain to climb,
no breath to catch,
no star to shine.

just the slow, gray peace
of existing
without needing a reason why.

✍️

some days,
the pencil is like a stone-
heavy and unmoving
as the paper remains empty.

my mind wanders,
seeking out the passion
and emotions i tend to embrace,
but they are gone
just like the words scattered
amongst the stars.

i attempt to speak
but my mouth is dry,
craving water like i crave happiness.

all the words i want to say
are stuck in my throat,
waiting for their moment-
choking me instead.

i need my strength,
not to write,
but to be Me again.

it remains

it keeps knocking,
begging to come in
and introduce itself.

introduce itself as peace,
as a new way to sing
in a world of silence.

silence that echoes
through the halls,
numbing to the mind.

numbness that will disappear,
but never stay quite gone
as the roof begins to crack.

the cracks scatter
and foundation cries,
unable to withstand the weight.

the weight of it all,
crashing down with force,
leaving only the door.

the door,
in which the knocking
continues.

📉

my heart will never beat the same,
stopping where your name used to live.
the air no longer fills my lungs,
it just sits-
thin, uncertain,
like it’s afraid to stay.

the sun still rises,
but it doesn’t warm me completely.
music still plays,
but every note falls off.

the world moves forward,
and i still follow,
half-awake, half-gone,
trying to remember
what it felt like
to be whole.

my time will come
where i can take off the layers
and feel the love
of the life that i deserve.