Long Antidepressants Poems
Long Antidepressants Poems. Below are the most popular long Antidepressants by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Antidepressants poems by poem length and keyword.
A dying woman's suicide note.
While writing,
I am trying to find a reason to live.
Amidst this chaos of heartbreaks,
A coward have I become!
I have forgotten how sweet
The bell of hope rings;
When the finger of God has already
Inscribed 'DOOM' on the walls of my life.
That garden of life which used to blossom;
The roses changed to thorns and
The stars we used to gaze at, sky high;
Have turned into stones.
Maybe I became insensitive to pain,
I do not remember how it feels to bleed;
But I can feel life bleeding out of me,
This blood—the only sign that I lived!
I lived dining on antidepressants because
My pain could not possibly be remedied
By the contents found in a first aid kit.
I loved!
I loved you more than life
Because you were a mother's prayer
For a father's protection being answered;
I dreamt!
I dreamt you would be my reason:
My reason to live on
In the face of tragedy;
I believed!
I believed pain would come and go,
Like the night turns into day—seasons.
If only I lasted longer;
But so would the pain—IF!...
I became a piece of TNT lit on both ends,
And blowing up was eventual.
I can feel that flame of life dying
And the gates of hell calling!
Calling. Calling. Calling.
The grim reaper knocks at my door,
Ready to collect my soul—
I called him.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
My savior, my salvation?!
The world would be better without me,
What of you my child?
Remember. Remember. Remember.
I gave you life,
And for you I will lose mine
But not because of you.
Live on?
I would say,
But I still want to be a good mother. Yes!
Even in death!
My baby, my joy.
For you I will live
But the blood on this paper
Tells me my hour has come.
Happy to be going,
But sad to be leaving you behind am I.
Darkness is blackening my sky,
A deep sleep imminent—death!
I can already see a vision of me.
I am looking down from a place above
For my sorrows are compensated;
Death loves the troubled!
Death whispers in my ear,
His words sound like a soft crescendo
Of a comforting lullaby.
His song is my farewell...
Written in blood,
Every letter red.
At the very least,
I died smiling!...
From the moment I was born I was considered a miracle
One month premature with so many things wrong
Many considered me a fighter, and I suppose I was
What they didn't realise is that the fight would continue
At the age of eleven I left for secondary school
Leaving behind the world of play for the world of work
But I never much cared for play, only finding praise
When I brought home the top grades
At the age of thirteen I realised something was wrong
Spending countless days trying to figure out why
Why I liked girls and boys, why I struggled in class
But mostly why I didn't want to wake up each day
At the age of fourteen I had begun the biggest fight
One that would last for plenty of years, always ongoing
With angry red lines on my arms, and thoughts of suicide
Always echoing around my head, I battled on
By fifteen I realised the one I thought I loved
Never loved me back, he saw me as his possession
One to do with what he pleased and throw me aside
But I found someone with gentle kisses to help me grow
By sixteen those gentle kisses had turned to violet bruises
Ones that reminded me of the emotional bruises on my mum
It seemed that life had given up on the little girl fighting for her life
The world grew darker in my head every day
By eighteen I was ready to finally leave the world behind
To move away and start fresh, becoming a new person
But the darkness in my head was to follow me
Proving that every year would be consumed in sadness
By nineteen I had turned to drugs, but not the ones I thought
Antidepressants made the world a shade of grey
No longer the black I was used to, but not yet the white
That I have been longing to achieve
So now at twenty-one I am thinking about who I was
Finding my old poetry that reads like a journal of the past
Of a girl scared and screaming for someone to help
Not believing she had the strength to help herself
But now she stands stronger than ever
Every day not quite as hard and the last
Looking forward to a future she knows she can have
Looking back on a past she knows she can overcome
The night was lonely when my pills called for me. Stock piling them, not knowing if they’ll ever be used. I told myself I’d take them if life still didn’t get better. So down they went, at least a couple hundred. I didn’t die, but I caused a lot of pain for friends, family, and my lungs, man.
The ablulance took me to the emergency room in my town. There aren’t enough recourses to save a stupid suicidal teen, so they sent me hours away in a helicopter. The last thing I remember was going to sleep. When I woke up I had tubes in my throat and doctors and nurse telling me to cough so the pills would pump out of my body. How can you cough with a tube in your throat though?
A day later, I was sent to a mental hospital where things only plummeted even more. There were about twenty people there, but I only made friends with two. Eventually more came and I had new friends for a few days. They had therapy dogs to help us psychos feel a little better until you’d go to art and be criticized by staff and become more suicidal. yay!
I was put on antidepressants which made my bipolar disorder peak. They eventually made me lose 80 percent of my memory, so your girl stopped taking them.
Then I got better. Believe me, I too, was an “it never gets better” person. I still was for months after leaving that mental hospital because the experience was so bad, but if you focus on the negative, how can you get better. My old cringy poems from years ago are a great example of how I thought things would suck for ever.
Now, it’s been a bit over a year, and my perspective on life has changed. No longer am I a pessimistic angry teen who hates everyone. I found little things to hold on to so I hade a “purpose” until bigger things that gave me a bigger purpose came along. I wish any who has “it will never get better” ingrained in their head will find a way to make it bearable for them to keep pushing until they realize things do get better.
If I would’ve died, I would’ve lost so much that I didn’t even know I’d gain.
Form: Monorhyme
Indigos, light workers, empaths are hear
Struggling to change the errors of yesteryear
Power, money, corruption and greed
Will no longer be the motive that leads
The 60's, the freedom, they tried with defiance
The ones in power had them silenced
Like darwins theory of evolution
We are born for the revolution
There is too much pain in the world we've created
The ones who have tried have been banished and sedated
With antidepressants, Ritalin and crack
A lot of the indigos have been held back
This change will come, but take many a year
When it is over, they'll be no more fear
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere
Vanaheim be the gate ye see elated
Bravery and courage is what did appear
Appearance just like that one of Paul Revere
Remember now what he had advocated
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere
First of course he was moving in high gear
Gravity of mission not understated
Streaking across the western hemisphere
His words could be heard cyrstal clear
It's time for you to be all federated
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere
His words ran faster than speed of a light year
Ringing that all had become emancipated
So, to all take your own regins to commandeer
Just go tell fear to get the heck out of here
Cause now you know, I am associated
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere
Now you can continue to fly down the track
All I hear is anti-everything!
Still unhealed from the wounds of my antagonist though.
All these knots in my stomach still can’t be untangled.
I remember, she said that she’s in love with Phil the Philanthropist.
Now all properly positioned arrows that I have ever shot are so well angled,
That they're directly piercing through the hearts of every 'antichrist without any antlers'.
All I see is anti-everything!
Still unknown by the world like a new antivirus or antitoxin,
A certain state of mind that dwells within the antisocial and anti-racist.
Similar to a poison that has no antiserum or anti-venom.
Its an antitypical practice of anti-magic creating an antithesis,
Of this RNA molecule undergoing transcription making antisense.
No different from using antiprotons and anti-neutrons to make antimatter.
Excuse my anticlimactic understanding of how anti-science is the key to antigravity.
All I know is anti-everything!
No antibiotics or antidepressants could ever help me now.
I’ve turned into an antigenic anti-hero, who lives an anti-life that ‘anti-matters’ to anyone.
Each antipsychotic I take hits the mind harder than a anti-aircraft.
Now I’m stuck in a conversation with anti-intellectual making this annoying anti-noise,
“Ingeniously”, speaking upon all the anti-choices made by the anti-abortionists.
Evaluating how our criminal antics are the product of our anti-apartheid era.
All that’s left is anti-everything!
There is no antidote only broken bones and exposed atriums.
Why do we keep making these anti-tanks, brought in by anti-traders for the anti-terrorists?
We’re just creating an anti-war and destroying anticivilizations that sing anti-anthems.
Without the people, whose goanna make these antiperspirants for the anti-feminist.
These wheels and turbines of the world are stuck in an anti-lock.
We are the substance which is added in petrol to inhibit pre-ignition like an anti-knock.
Seeking therapy for my self created problem,
Antidepressants to help deal with the pain of all that's ever happened,
Now no place to call home.
I think and think of what I've done wrong,
But did I really do anything wrong to get me where I am today?
Is being honest a crime so that I would be cast out of house and lives?
All the while suffering and despair cloud my mind,
I can't make a rational decision to save my life.
The one that I love does not love me anymore,
I do not know if I've really changed that much,
the perception of what I say and do has.
My future is uncertain and it's hard to think about anything else.
I desire to be loved and in my struggle return that love for which I hope one
person will have for me.
How long till I can feel this?
Hoping any decision I make will not be scrutinized due to opinion.
Wishing that all this pain and suffering of being separated from my wife and child
will cease.
This paradox unfortunately is reality.
Created not just by myself but also by the one I love.
Event horizon to a singularity sucking all life and thoughts from what I am.
What can I do to end this turmoil?
So much life and beauty in this world.
So much death and destruction in this world.
Craving to be content and happy at the same time seems to be so far fetched at
this point in my life.
Yet I must do what I can to remain optimistic.
Oh sun, oh moon, oh stars and mother earth I beg you to take me back to the
origin of all creation.
That I might become a drop of dew or a cloud in the sky or a snowflake.
Recycled, recirculated but never feeling dead inside. At least being these I never
cease to exist for all know who I am.
But now it seems, all that I've shared my life with, want to forget me.
And being forgotten is better than not existing at all.
I dont think its easy to grasp the concept of depression.
This is probably because it is not concrete, anchored, bound to one definition.
It pools around you ten feet tall before it enters your peripherals.
Completely unnoticed by its host for as long as it takes to fill a hamper, with the ocean.
Then depression sicks its sharks on you, showing only dorsal fins poking through the veil of 'normality'. Putting a gram on the other side of the scale, breaking balance, breaking you.
Slowly those sharks become serpants. Those serpants lick at your ankles, a facade of a friend.
They pull your legs together, dissembling a foundation, as they make their way up your legs. Around your chest they begin to constrict, pushing your lungs closer together like a long distance friendship never severed. Taking away the ability to breathe as you forget that you want to, breathe.
They whisper alternative facts, promising a better day soon, that this will not be 'forever'. But they never prevail.
The ten foor tower of water surrounding you begins to grow dark as you realize, yes, you are indeed depressed... again.
Those antidepressants, they worked so well you felt so completely normal and laughed without reason.
But you forgot.
You arent normal.
You forgot normal people dont ahve to take those little pharmecuticals to remain engulfed in serotonin. And on top of the reemerging depression, you forgot to take them.
So you sit on your bed with your knees drawn to your chest, hyperventilationg quietly as those familiar tears, stop by.
For three and a half hours.
You want to escape so so badly, but how can you escape your safe haven? When all you know to be comforting is, right next to you.
How can you, how can I be saved?
When will it be
O v e r?
Speechless
Unstable
so now I'm off popping more antidepressants
after jonesing for the truth
so glad someone
anyone could offer me reality
that I'm truly
seriously
deluded and misunderstood
and now i know there is nothing i can say
Oh sinead
what does the con man sing to the bones of metaphors in the soup fiasco
about belligerence and brutality and psychological abuse
is it me
is it me can anyone here this plea
The pearls Jam the gates
oh my king throwing flames from his mouth
what can i say what can i say to Jeremy when he speaks in class?
i have no comment just the delusion
i am unstable
but intoxication of another
love note from you and broken homes is all i really need to spoil my therapy
Fred is Limp
The bizkit has me in a Full nelson
and if you listen closely to the words of wisdom to the new aged nuns of wood
stock 98
you will see the revolution spinning full blast
but the hippies are Jonesing flamethrower
the wars of winters are cold and frozen
take this Will I Am
and realize the place inside the fire
is something
something for you
for my rights in my living room
and the king i am
of plajerised words and themes
I am no saint so whats my name
and isn't it sad to know life is more than who we are and know
oh flame thrower
i don't know what to say
but hush your temper tantrum and pay attention for this Will I Am
finds That Mr Jones
has inspired me to say
steal the rythym while you can
and i know the pieces fit
so enjoy the schism
and flame thrower
everyone knows i am the liar
ask Mrs O'connor
ask Mr Durst
ask wuts under rug swept and rediscover
the place within the fire
Words Used
Ghost, Heart. (Nouns)
Shiver, Deliver, (Verb)
Wicked, Viscous, (adjectives)
I had a friend- jovial and sweet, in my college days.
The same room, we had shared at the hostel.
I noticed, by and by, she was losing her sprightliness.
Had no clue, what upsetting thoughts nagged her HEART.
One night, she woke up screaming- “GHOST, Ghost”
Looking delirious she said petrified, a ghost was at the window.
I brushed it aside, thinking she had seen a nightmare.
But her erratic behaviour continued, often acting bizarre.
Slowly, she seemed to have slipped into a spell of silence.
There was always a look of horror in her eyes.
She was no more the cheery girl of the past.
Into a world of spectral shadows, she seemed to have sunk.
If ever I woke up from my sleep, I saw her wide eyed,
Gazing into the air, as if seeing something horrifying.
Once, she said, she saw a skeleton dangling on a VISCOUS spider net.
Often, she was seen SHIVERING and stopped behaving normal.
So upset, I wished to DELIVER her of her mournful plight,
Her parents were informed who took her to a doctor.
Under examination, she was diagnosed with Schizophrenia,
Characterized by hallucinations of WICKED spirits, haunting her.
* * * * * * *
When memories come surfing, still my heart goes out to her
Who fell into the abysmal depths of delusion and frightful fantasy.
Will antidepressants work on her? Will she ever become whole again?
Or will the dark demons continue to haunt her, day and night?
I was trapped,
Trapped within my conscience, trapped within my own mind,
My thoughts were just devouring me
My thoughts had gotten control over who I had become
But what had I become? A depressed young woman who might go bipolar,
Living from day to day; gobbling down antidepressants as if my life depended on it?
Maybe it did,
I mean… I was just a kid,
From a dysfunctional family caught within dysfunctional friendships…
Caught within love?
That word I knew nothing about… I was far too young to understand,
Eventually got caught in… can I say dysfunctional love?
(Fake laughs then sighs)
Maybe if I didn’t depend on you so much then I wouldn’t be this messed up
Vulnerable and young was the best target for you I guess,
Leaving a girl with so much potential in so much mess…
I was strong maybe too strong for my age a mystery trying to figure out one of my own…
My life.
Maybe if I didn’t think so much I wouldn’t have gotten to this point maybe if I didn’t let my thoughts swallow me maybe if I didn’t let razors control me maybe… if I didn’t let u enter to break me…
(Takes in a deep breath and relaxes)
Physically… spiritually… mentally…
YOU BROKE ME
(Hey loves, yes all my poems are based on trues stories... real life situations not necessarily me and no i don't mention names in my poems if i do then the names are fictional).
P.S. I might add part two to this or just have it as a whole different poem.
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