Hi everyone, this is a bonus post for this week, i thought’d share something little different to what i’d normally post here. I wrote this poem about suffering with depression a few months ago and i thought this would be a good place to share it, not exactly a happy piece but an honest one, hope you enjoy and May God bless you.
I want to live not just survive but when I look inside I see dreams that faded and died, promises made to my self as I roar at the sky, asking “where’s my better life?” I reach and reach to the next rung of the ladder, as I begin to see the light at the top, I close in on this chance to escape the pit my mind has been dragged into, can’t tell what’s false and what’s true, if I won’t save me why would you? I continue to climb towards that light, a blade as comfort to pass the time, looking down at those red lines, I feel like God looks at me and sighs, reaching on this ladder but reaching for a lifeline. I want to live not just survive, through your grace not just mine, I keep on climbing, I see your signs, your kingdom ahead of me but I’m always behind. I’m gaining height; I’m climbing to see what’s in store, I wanna keep going but I’ve failed a thousand times before, I can’t do this anymore, then I look down. I feel my hands slip, I lose my grip, then my grip gets me to slit and just for a bit, my heart stops hurting, not a solution but it’s quick, I need my daily fix, of suffering that I inflict, I look at what I’ve become and I make myself sick. It’s self vs self and I’m losing, trapped in a cycle of self abusing. They all say I’ve got a big heart, I see it as more to scar, I try to hold myself together but I keep falling apart, my will is like a house of cards, one I can’t rebuild, my heart is broken into shards, and I don’t think that I’ll heal. My friends try to pry open the door to my mind, but I’m holding it shut, they want to help when I can’t help myself, letting them in is bad for their health, my feelings are poison to positivity, gateways to anxiety, basically there’s no saving me, those I love try to free me from this hell of my design, but when they ask me how I am, I look up, nod my head and reply “I’m fine.”