*continued from pt 2*
Our physical bodies are numb, and our souls, tormented. It’s why some of us hurt ourselves. We feel a lack of purpose, draining our desire to go on. With no purpose, no love, and nothing but brutal lapses in our thoughts and emotions, will we ever be able to break free?
We are the ones who wish to die and escape this world in hopes of finding a better life after death. Our only hope is put into things we cannot see or feel. And that lingering, underlying hope is what will either keep us alive to see another day, or it will be what sends us on. Peace is what we are in pursuit of. To bad we’ll never know when and how we might attain it until its already too late.
Please read parts 1 and 2 for a fuller picture on the state of mind of those who struggle with severe depression, mental illness, and suicidal ideation.
Thank you for reading.
When a whisper shifts, it hollows out
tombs of insecurities, the smiles in which
I hold fade with each whisper. Thoughts, no longer mine
Running from reflections hidden behind painted walls
When a whisper shifts, suicidal ideation forms, knocking at unhinged doors
It’s footsteps creaking on bedroom floors
these thoughts are not my own
When a whisper shifts, my soul no longer belongs to me,
its cold air creeping through,
inviting the mental disorders I thought I buried
When a whisper shifts so does the rope hanging
The snake oil salesmen give a pill for depression
with the side effect of suicidal ideation.
A toxic concoction of charlatan greed
snake oil salesman and political madness.
At some point, you'll be diagnosed by a stranger.
Who has known you for 10 Minutes.
A D.E.I entity becomes your soul masseuse and manicurist.
Trimming burrs from the brain, putting pastel to dark words.
Pushers of protracted numbness and pain.
A million patches of burlap, never a concrete cure.
A heartless machine of trapdoor profit
and smash-mouth blame.
The mentally broken overflowing drains
a million sedated flowers
left in the jagged rain.
The older I get the more I grow
It’s apparent to me I do not know
There’s always something to learn
Keep on moving as the world turns
Why are instincts in animals so strong
To thrive and survive and carry on
Yet in some humans who have despair
Suicidal ideation thoughts are there
No one is perfect and minds can be
A source of pain a source of peace
Coloring life’s lenses we silver see
Sifting cleanses setting souls free
Do not forget in your pact with death
You may transfer pain to someone else
You must be certain that you persevere
Despite cherry challenges fuchsia fears
Lift up your spirits with the Holy Ghost
Always near us when we need Him most
let me love you again
in love with you in every way
in love with you in every way again
things you are
giving up
giving you up
i need to give you up, but i know not yet how
why can't i view you as a friend
why can’t i get over it
it’s been so long
addiction
my strange addiction
my favorite man
i hate you
i am selfish
i know you didn’t do this on purpose, but it has always felt like
you did.
what you did.
maybe you did it on purpose, and i am gaslighting myself
was that wishful thinking
do i wish for vengeance
why have you forsaken me
where did you go
i miss you
i miss you more than you will ever know
forbidden fruit
goodbye
i wish you knew
i wish i had kept you blocked
i cut myself on the same rusty knife as last time
now i want to be dead
it does not feel well
it does not feel well with my soul
My heart was shattered last Wednesday
It has been a week
How DARE time march on
without my sweet boy?
I still occasionally forget to breath
and feel like I am underwater
until my body automatically grabs
a huge cleansing breath
I am totally lost at times,
I foget to eat, I forget to grab
the medication I picked up and paid for,
yet left at the pharmacy
If people weren't reaching out and
soothing my bleeding heart with
the love of friendship and family,
I wouldn't still be here
But I have to stay strong, because
I have a fight to fight when I recover
a little. There has to be better care
for mental illness and suicidal ideation
I will sound the battle call when I can
remember how to be a human again
and I would love company along
that journey!
tw suicidal ideation
My mind’s fading to dark grey again.
I’m like a boat drifting in the storm, struggling above the waves for a second just to go right back under again.
I’ve been like this since I was six.
Why does death feel
So much closer than before?
It used to be something I wished for
But I knew I would never try to reach it.
Now…
I’m not so sure.
I lost belief in God when I was young.
No matter how hard I sobbed into my pillow
No matter how fervently I prayed
No matter how many times I tried to suffocate
He wouldn’t let me die
So my faith did instead.
Now here I am again.
Curled up on the shower floor
Weak prayers falling from my lips
Pleading to surrender to the darkness of sleep.
I don’t want your pity, your worry, your “it’ll get better. Trust me.”
I want to know why I’m like this.
Why have I always thought I’m worthless and stupid and useless and someone no one wants to speak to or see or notice?
Maybe then the storm will break.
Maybe then the boat will stay afloat.
Maybe then enduring sunlight will shine upon its bow.
I am the dark
Pigment in grey
I am the nail that binds the culms
Of our Bamboo bridge
I am the cement
That makes up the walls
Of the brokenhearted
But seeing me thru' your eye
I am nothing more than the rope
Hanging to your ceiling
For your suicidal ideation
You made me the worse
Oh yeah
I don't blame you
'Cos medicine kills people
And it also heals
It's just how your use it...
#ahroom
#thePoeticles
©2020
I was told to change my ways
lift the haze
or lessened were my days to follow
I try my best
to get out of my chest
that which makes reality hard to swallow
After a while
I wore a smile
that you and I were grateful to see
But what can seem sublime
will fall to time
and knock us to our knees
Sometimes we pretend we're fine
we make words rhyme
so its not a burden to read.
But it is too often
we wait for their coffin
before we see how much we let them bleed.
There are a few
that I always knew
would keep me in their thoughts.
To these men
that I call friends
you are the salvation that I sought.
Though still in pain
I am not the same
I have better ways to deal with sorrow.
Because even after rain
I stay sane
and have hope for a brighter tomorrow.
red-faced
he fears for their future
flushed
she is an optimist
***
When death calls, all is forgotten.
Chores are left undone.
Paintings are left unpainted.
Poems are left unwritten.
Suicidal ideation fantasizes.
The illusion of escapes rules.
Then, I go to the garden
Planting from dawn to dusk,
Escaping self-destructions.
One more time, I painfully wait
So God can call me to eternity.
Tomorrow, flowers will bloom.
Photographs will be taken.
Life will be made full
Until the ideation returns
...to suck out my joy.
Titrate down
till all the help is out of your system
the thoughts come fast
the pointless days
silent nights
the evil, sharp edges of sanity
roll with it, as blades of suicidal ideation
fill your waking hours
wait, wait, wait
the new one will come soon
new medicine that will take the thoughts away,
that will raise you from near dead daydreams
and let you breathe slow and even,
rest
until then, just turn, walk away
and shhh
keep it to yourself
no one wants to think
you have any problems
like that.
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