Over the past couple of years I have written many poems. I have posted some in various locations but never on my blog. So I have decided to try to post them in increments of 3, based on which ones I feel like posting out of my journal my my various experiences that I have been through. Some may be older. Some may be newer. It really just depends. Hope you enjoy.
4/2/16 Song/Poem (Not quite finished)
Suicidal Thoughts
Running Through My Head
Making Me Wish
That I Was Dead
Giving me false hope
That this pain will end
But it will only pass it off
To my other friends
Die! My head screams.
Die! It's not worth it.
Die! The pain's not over.
It's a never ending pit.
Running gets you no where.
It's a brick wall that you hit.
Your tears stain your pillow
Your fight leaves your eyes
You just want to give up
And give your soul a chance to fly
Fly among the eagles
Fly among the trees
Fly into the heavens
Until you sit down at God's feet
There's a never ending battle
That you're tired of trying to fight
When you want is peace and answers
And one quiet restful night
You ask all the questions
Yet can never get any answers
To why you're stuck suffering
To why you're still here
And your fight leaves your body
You want to give up
And give your soul a chance to fly
Fly among the eagles
Fly among the trees
Fly into the Heavens
Until you sit down at God's feet
Fly above the oceans
Fly into the sky
Fly above the world
And leave it all behind
And leave it all behind.
1/24/15 Poem
I have an illness.
Its name is depression.
It paints the world black.
It feels like a dark hole.
Or a cloud that follows me everywhere.
It engulfs me.
It encompasses me.
It is like a chain around my neck.
Constantly there.
I have an illness.
Its name is depression.
I have an illness.
Its name is anxiety.
It feels like the world is spinning,
the colors blending together
The room shakes, the chest tight.
The overwhelming fear
Of anything, everything.
The inescapable sensation
of unrelenting chaos.
I have an illness.
Its name is anxiety.
I have an illness.
Its name is PTSD.
Triggered by past hurt,
betrayal, trauma
Nighttime is my enemy
Daytime is a freedom
But only a small freedom
The color is red
Like a screaming child
Who's childhood is ruined.
I have an illness.
Its name is PTSD.
I have an illness.
Its name is BPD.
Its colors are black, white and blue.
Black for the depression, and the thinking
White is for the smile before the black,
the other end of the thinking.
Blue is for the tears, for the hurt
Caused by others and by self
Nothing in the middle, just extremes.
I have an illness.
Its name is BPD.
I have an illness.
Its name is RA.
Its colors are blue and purple.
Blue for the tears caused by
the pain, pain caused by the
rain, by the ever changing weather.
Purple for the swelling and the color
of the joints inflammed.
Pain is a reminder that life is
not what it should be, a reminder
of my limitations, a reminder of the
no cure, of the pain.
I have an illness.
Its name is RA.
I have 5 illnesses.
Each one has a different name.
They paint different pictures
of pain, suffering, tears.
But they also paint a picture
of hope - hope for recovery.
Recovery is possible.
I have 5 illnesses.
Depression, anxiety, PTSD, BPD and RA
But those illnesses are NOT me!
1/29/15 Poem
This place is not a place for me
A place for me to get help
A place where meds are changed
Friends are made
Life controlled.
This place is not a place for me.
This place is not a place for me.
A place where people want to help.
A place for a new journey to start.
But mine won't.
Mine won't.
This place is not a place for me.
This life is not a life for me.
A life full of suffering and pain.
A life slowly spun out of control.
Friends lost.
Family too.
This life is not a life for me.
This life is not a life for me.
A life that doesn't give breaks.
A life that spins round and round
Rest is what I need.
What my body longs for.
Eternal Rest.
This life is not a life for me.
And soon I won't be in it.
12/08/16 Poem
Broken
Bruised
Beaten Down
Lying in a puddle on the ground
Passerbys stare on their morning stroll
Wondering why I can't get control
My mind is freaking out
Wondering how to get out
Out of where you ask
Out of this place
Out of this town
Out of this state
Out of this world
Out of it all
Permanently
Gone
Never to be seen again
By those passerbys on their morning stroll
Now there will be just a hole
Where that puddle once laid
No crosses, no flowers
No candles on the sidewalk
No teddy bears to take the place
Of the person who once took the space
Where that puddle once laid
Broken
Bruised
Beaten Down
Lying in a puddle on the ground
No more
Just a hole
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