I wondered if you could hear my heart in your sleep,
Recognize the smell of my skin in your dreams,
Touch my lips when you wake up,
And whisper in my ears while I sleep.
I pondered all that as you fell asleep to my heartbeat,
Breathing softly on my chest with one of your hands still feeling me.
And when I wake up it was your lips,
Or maybe it's all just a dream.
But when I declared "I love you",
I could feel your lips at my ear,
Whispering the sweet melody,
Of everything I ever wanted to hear.
No, depression is not just getting sad.
It's a constant sadness that melts into your bones,
An indescribably heavy weight upon your shoulders,
Never mind your heart and soul.
It's believing so many lies (maybe because you've learned to accept them)
And no longer appreciating your self-worth.
Wishing you no longer existed, wishing yourself gone.
Depression holds you back from your dreams
And pulls you into a nightmare.
It takes full control of your existence.
It makes you never want to get out of bed,
And when you finally do,
You just want to get back in it.
But you know the hardest part?
Ignorant people.
Just.
Like.
You.
No one can see the pain that we hide,
They're happy for us to keep it inside,
Our fear is our own; they don't want to know,
Why sould we involve them; why should it show.
You live your whole life in confusion and fear,
The need to feel something unbearably near,
Half of you living, Half of you gone,
And inside you know what your doing is wrong.
The thing's that can help, the thing's that may heal,
Are the flame or the blade and the sting of the steel,
The destruction of skin means the death of your soul,
But there's nowhere to run when your living alone.
It's sad,
How people lock themselves up,
In their own little world.
We lie to ourselves,
Say that everything's alright,
Everythings fine.
We wear the mask,
And act the part,
And say it's all part of the show.
We live in boxes,
See in darkness,
And speak in lies.
I't's our world
That we live in,
Why should it change?
I feel your hands in my hair.
I feel your breath on my neck.
I feel your body pressed so close to mine.
I feel your lips on my throat.
I feel your hands move to my back and your lips work their way up to mine.
I feel you and I love it.
I hear you say you love me.
I hear you whisper my name.
I hear you tell me I'm the only one for you.
I hear your breath in my ear.
I hear your soft snores as I fall asleep.
I hear you and I love it.
I see you as I run into your arms.
I see your face break through my world of darkness.
I see you fight away my fears.
I see you wipe away my tears.
I see you're in love with me.
I see you and I love
How to love a girl who can't love herself. by lupus-astra, literature
Literature
How to love a girl who can't love herself.
one.
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
two.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
three.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says
I'm Not the Marrying Kind by UntamedUnwanted, literature
Literature
I'm Not the Marrying Kind
I'm not the marrying kind.
I have stones in my hair instead of flowers,
And a rosebush of thorns is more poignant to me.
I'm not the marrying kind.
My words aren't pretty or wise,
And I can't sing about anything but a broken heart.
I'm not the marrying kind.
I am the sort of damaged you see in an old recorder,
And the kind of old in an instrument that breaks into a billion pieces at a touch.
I'm not the marrying kind.
Neither neat, nor tidy, nor correct in my behavior,
And yes, I did in fact tell you to fuck yourself.
I'm not the marrying kind.R
Slide the blade across your wrist.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Stop.
"Doesn't it hurt?"
I can't feel anything.
"A little."
Punch your own stomach.
Harder.
Harder.
Does it hurt yet?
Yes.
Keep going.
"Why do you do that?"
The pain makes me feel alive.
"I don't know."
Stare.
Cry.
Scream.
Stop.
Keep staring.
"What's wrong with you?"
I'm dead inside.
"Nothing."
"Emotional freak."
I'm just depressed.
"Sorry."
Stare at your arms.
Your stomach.
Your waist.
Your thighs.
"What are you doing?"
I'm ugly.
"Never mind."
"Attention seeker."
I just have low self esteem.
"I'm sorry."
Cuts.
Scars.
Tears.
Emotions.
"Emo."
"Scene girl."
"Psycho."
I'm just human
I tried to count my scars,
But I couldn't tell
Where one began
And another ended.
So I tried to count the cuts,
But I couldn't, because
Blood smeared across my skin,
Connecting them like a thin,
Red veil of pain.
And so I cried.
I cried a single tear, because
When I need to cry,
I can't.
Finally, I sat down,
And put pen to paper,
Or fingers to keys.
And tried to write my emotions.
But I couldn't, because
I don't know how to tell the world
What I feel like,
When I have no right.
I looked from the blood stained tissues,
Across my torn body,
Into my own eyes, reflected perfectly by the mirror before me.
Another tear was p
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
"I'm fine" is a dirty lie.
The truth is that I want to die.
"I'm tired" is not even done.
It really means "I'm tired of being no one"
"I'm better" is but a curse.
The truth is that I've never been worse
"I'm just cold" is what I say
so my sleeves can hide my scars away.
"I already ate" is said with a frown.
I starve to see the numbers on the scale go down.
"I'm okay" is probably the worst.
It really means I'm about to burst.
All these things are lies to me.
But you take this as the truth because what else would I be?
You Left Me Stronger:
Hey there, it's been awhile, do you remember me?
I guess you might not, since I wasn't very important to you.
You know, I spent so many days thinking about - what I did wrong
I questioned if maybe, I was at fault or if I was screwed up.
I thought a lot about the things you said...
The things that were my fault, my problems.
I took them to heart at first, but then I realised you were wrong.
I realised that you are selfish and ugly on the inside.
On the surface you pretended to care, but like a cancer;
You amputate someone the moment you think they've gone bad.
You hide from the rigours of life and only emerge l
Depression isn’t true, my dear
Depression isn’t real.
It’s just a silly tragedy
You’ve forced yourself to feel.
Anxiety is fake, my friend
You wonder why it’s there.
But others have it worse than you!
Stop forming false despair.
Cutting is dramatic, love,
It’s ugly, and it’s dumb.
Why not just get over it?
Is the attention fun?
Suicide is stupid, dear,
And selfish, if I may.
Get over yourself, darling,
Can you hear these things I say?
Why aren’t you replying, love?
Oh, where could you have gone?
I never meant to hurt you, love,
Did I say something wrong?
Why aren’t you replying, dear
This Is All About You:
Most people giving you advice, might take a quote from a book
Most people giving you advice, have never had a real look
So from someone who's been watching, let me lay my heart bare
I want to show you all the special things, about the girl for whom I care
She always does her very best, no matter how tough the task
Even when she's struggling, she puts on a brave mask
She's always trying to learn new things, just for a chance to make you proud
She can be a little bit quiet, but I think that's better than being loud
She's not the very best in sports, I know she can be kind of a klutz
But she smiles and goes on an
I am the shadow, and I am the light
I am the sunlight, and I am the night
I am the battle, and I am the fighter
I am the water, and I am the fire
I am a raindrop just ready to fall
I am the world, and yet…
No one at all.
There are Things Beneath the Garden by WordOfChen, literature
Literature
There are Things Beneath the Garden
There Are Things Beneath the Garden:
~
There are things beneath the garden,
Which you really shouldn't see.
There are things beneath the garden,
That don't belong to me.
There are things beneath the garden,
Gone rotten blue and black.
There are things beneath the garden,
In a dripping gunny sack...
~
There are flowers in the garden,
Which you really shouldn't pull.
There are flowers in the garden,
That sit on top of wool.
There are flowers in the garden,
With a really rotten scent.
There are flowers in the garden,
Above bodies burnt and bent...
~
I love this little garden,
It's a special place to me.
I love this little g
She always fell for boys who needed saving. by sasunaru16, literature
Literature
She always fell for boys who needed saving.
She always fell for boys who needed saving.
Giving them kisses in the dark
to numb their headache from
drinking too much and yet
not enough to kill lust.
She was always adored by boys, who,
if given the chance, would rebuild
the world for her.
But she wanted to be the heroine
and refused to see
she needed saving, too.
Love is when somebody gives you a shoulder to cry on.
Love is when somebody makes you laugh when you're sad.
Love is when you miss somebody whenever they are gone.
Love is when whenever you see that person you feel glad.
Loving somebody is choosing not to see their flaws.
A human being will never be perfect.
Everything that person does you will give a loud applause.
Cause in your eyes everything that person does is correct.
You want them to smile.
You would work extra just to be with that person.
Even if it would be just for a while.
Love is unconditional, that's the truth.
Life spoke to the void.
"Why do so many hate me? Yet they cling so tightly to my cloak."
Death spoke to the void.
"I am accursed and feared by so many. Yet they all come to me in the end."
Joy spoke to the void.
"I am pursued by all. Yet they find me so elusive."
Hope asked the void:
"Why am I both held so tightly and thrown so easily away?"
War spoke to the void.
"I am what they hate. Yet they cannot live without me."
Peace spoke to the void.
"I am sought by all. Yet they have never found me"
Innocence asked the void:
"Why am I both the first they have and the first they lose?"
Strife asked the void:
"Why am I the one that they hate t
You are so much stronger than suicide.
You are so much more powerful than the cuts on your arm,
And so much better than your eating disorder.
So much more than your scars.
Darling,
Please look me in the eyes,
And show me your wounds,
Whether they be on your forearm,
Your wrist,
Your mind,
Or your heart.
Sweetheart,
Have you been skipping meals?
Have you been cutting?
Well, here’s something for you to try.
Think one thing,
Just one thing,
Every
Single
Day.
Just remember to prove to the world,
That you
Are stronger than
Suicide.
I hate that you're my every thought
That I wake with you on my mind
And fall asleep
To images of your smile
I hate that I adore you so
With gorgeous eyes
And sweet lips
I long to taste
I hate the way you make me feel
Like I need you to survive
As if breathing without you
Is excruciating
I hate that I yearn for you
I hunger for your touch
Every moment
Of every day
I hate the way I love you
With every beat
Of my wretched heart
That loving you keeps me alive
Yet keeps me alone