I’m a fixture
A feature of this place
Inseparable
Part of the facade
Static disposition
Stuck at home
I’d hardly call it living
Tag Archives: Depression
Abandoned Years and Lost Futures
Vivid dreams of days long past, bringing me to tears
Memories of carefree play, bursting with good cheer
Memories of myself, always standing to the side
Lost opportunities
Lost my inner child
Declining to take part
Now I’m all alone with my closely guarded heart
Jaded and Weightless
Howling familiarity
Every day plays out the same
I’ve spent a lifetime transposing pain to page
Dropping deep into myself
The yawning abyss
Inflicting wounds, pressing bruises, then telling what I felt
Hope for anything at all
Looking forward to impact
I’ve lost the thrill of the fall
Glimpse The Sun
Memories of colour
Grayscale days
Looking inward, seeking some escape
Away from reality
Away from sleet and ice
Remembrances of Summer
Dreams of warmth and light
Tidal Thoughts
These fleeting moments of ambition, bubbling to the surface before bursting. I try my best to nurture them. Long, sleepless nights, spent at my bedside, head cradled in hands. Tumultuous depths, disturbances, then placid once again. Reflection comes back into view. Temporary clarity, then chaos renewed. Is this progress? Is this regression? I wonder in endless tides, rising and falling, often caught in shallow pools. Vain attempts at ruling these small worlds within worlds.
Downcast
Expectations low
Just as I hold my head
Empty hands in fists
Never held outstretched
Circumstance
Guiding every step
Perceived and played a fool
Pretending that I am
Vacant
Mistaken
Expectations low
I know that some things aren’t for changing
Self Help?
Self help books are getting aggressive. Just saw one called “Unf**k Yourself”. That doesn’t even make sense. Is it a book for people who get told off a lot? The other one was called “Hardcore Self Help: F**k Anxiety”, which seems a bit intense for anyone with anxiety issues. Maybe I’ll write a self help book called “F**k You and Your P**sy As* Depression”. It would save lives…. or result in a string of suicides. These things are coin toss.
Falling From New Heights
A precipice so tall
Heart stalls before the bottom
Repetitious falls don’t always leave you stronger
Somber tones of black and blue
A leap of faith with hope it takes me somewhere close to you
The truth is, I oft fall short
My body bruised and broken
I start to contort
Ribs clawing at the lungs
Folding in upon myself
The impact always comes
No matter how I brace
Gravity always seems to put me in my place
Zirconium Man
I’m a man that’s beautiful in the way of zirconium
Not nearly so charming when you look closer…
Intentions just as pure
Yet not what you expected
My imperfect allure is often rejected
Nothing cures the way of this stone
Flaws more apparent the more that you know
Like flowers of blue that poison the mind
I’m best left alone in the dirt with my kind
– Zirconium Man
Ceaseless
Sure, I rarely show it through frowns or heavy eyes
I often wear a smile
Master of disguise
Lies to keep away
Fighting this depression and self directed rage
Page after page after page after page
I can’t hold it any longer and my grin begins to fade
In the face of repetition
Weathered like a mountain where the wind and rain is ceaseless
thInkStains 