Iceberg

Sometimes all I can do

is share just the tip of the iceberg

of what makes me depressed.

It’s usually som superficial reason,

I know.

But I can’t find the words to share

about the tons of heavy ice

beneath the surface

that actually make me want to die.

So no one really understands

what the things weighing me down are.

They just see the silly, stupid things

that set me off on a plunge

and think I’m not worthy of help

or love

or attention

because why would sleeping in

be enough reason to kill yourself?

Nobody cares about that.

So no one hears about all the things that came after

like the dreams

or the self-destructive thoughts

or bringing my worth down.

Or feeling like a failure.

Because why would anyone

understand that all these things

are just a result of sleeping late.

Silenced

I am broken,

but silenced.

I feel pain,

but hide it.

I spiral down

but can’t fight it.

I feel emotions

but can’t describe it.

I think bad thoughts

but conceal them.

I paint a picture

but only half.

I need help

but can’t find it.

I’m ignored.

I’m silenced.

Poison

If everyone can emotionally poison me,

then why can’t I physically?

What’s one more toxic thing

to take over what’s left of me?

Too Eager

They say not to suffer in silence,

but yet when I try to speak

they are the same people

taping my mouth shut.

They are all too eager

to offer their help

but only if they decide

you actually need it.

It takes guts to come

forward an admit

that you want to die;

to lay naked for them.

But they can turn

right back around

and laugh: “No way.

You’re kidding, right?

That’s not a real problem.

Just grow the fuck up.”

On goes the tape

and here comes the silence

while the demons inside

continue to poison.

 

 

They Say, I Say

They say

“Don’t suffer in silence!”

I say

“What a crazy lie.”

They say

“I’m here for you.”

I say

“Yeah, here to judge me.”

They say

“I want to help you.”

I say

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

 

Fall Changes

As the air gets colder,

the world begins to change.

Bees find their wings

no longer seem to work.

Tress are stripped bare

of their only disguise,

some times for the last time.

Flowers slowly freeze

and crumble away

until they are nothing

but a victim of death.

 

How lucky they are

Career-Driven Woman

I wish I had the passion

and the motivation at least

to be a career-driven woman.

I mean, you would think

that after 17 years of working

towards the goal of having

a career and good life

would make me feel

successful or even happy

like everyone said it would,

but it doesn’t.

All I feel is frustration.

Frustration from following

the steps and directions

everyone gave me in hopes

that I would have the life

that everyone said I should have.

Now that I have it,

I don’t want it,

and I’m not sure I ever did.

But now I’m stuck with it

 

 

 

 

Leaves Beneath Your Feet

Sometimes the harsh crunch

of leaves beneath your feet

can make you realize

just how fragile life is.

 

Something once full of life

and service to give

now falls from the top

and withers away to nothing.

2066.9

2066.9

the mountain air is quite crisp

and the smell of maples and pine

fills their lungs with something brand new.

 

At 2066 high

where the land meets the bright blue sky

and birds dare to spread wings and soar,

where they can see everything.

 

At 2066 feet

two young hearts begin to beat,

for perhaps the very first time,

together as love starts to grow.

 

Up at 2066,

above the crunching of dry sticks,

you can hear two souls come to see

without each other, they can’t be.

 

 

Laundry

Laundry. Laundry.

Go away.

I’ll fold you

another day.

(Or maybe not.

What’s another week)